#i sketched one of my ocs too but i swear every time i draw him my grasp on anatomy flies out the fuckin window

[dyed-indigo]

some fun sketches of my sona

#idk man it's 2:30 am. #i sketched one of my ocs too but i swear every time i draw him my grasp on anatomy flies out the fuckin window #may attempt it again tomorrow once i've rested idk #oh yeah speaking of things i'm finishing tomorrow. ehehe #hopefully i'll finish the thing tomorrow. idk i have the more difficult part done #but also i started struggling with the easy part?? it's less work why is it more trouble #so we'll see. technically i could post half of it now but i wont <3 #my art #edit: just realized i forgot to elaborate what the thing is. well. ehehe

[mur-art]

I swear I’m working on other requests but I definitely went a bit too hard on this one. @aarcanaa​

This is getting out of WTTT and into my own OC territory but I hope y’all don’t hate me too much. I intended to add L.A. too but TBH I don’t think I’ve spent enough time in L.A. to feel confident with a design right now. Also I personally have a lot of negative feelings toward L.A. so it may be a bit unfairly biased. 

Anyway, some notes about my interpretations (and a sketch of San Diego v.2) below: 

Fun fact; I live in a super rural part of California literal hours away from the nearest major city (which is actually Las Vegas, Nevada) so my experience of being a Californian is a bit uh... different. Cities terrify me a bit (see my notes on L.A. above) but I’ve been to most of the CA cities at least once. Out of all of them, I’ve actually spent the most time in San Diego. 

Anyway, enough rambling; here’s some notes about them. Keep in mind, these are just my interpretations based on my own experiences. 

San Francisco: 

-Nonbinary; uses they/them pronouns. (I can’t get the idea of them saying “My name is San FranCISco but I’m anything but” out of my head.) 

-Has a lot of super artsy and well-executed tattoos (pretend I can draw them correctly!) Most of them are exactly what you’d expect, but some of them are truly bizarre. Many of them cover burn scars. 

-Apparently SF’s official city flower is the dahlia, so they’re wearing a vague approximation of a dahlia. 

-Has a semi one-sided rivalry with L.A. (L.A. is too busy with her own shit to care as much) I think this somewhat originally stemmed from the jealousy of L.A. overtaking San Francisco as the largest city in CA, but it continues because of their clashing personalities.

-Is rich AF but attempts to dress and act like they’re not. Wouldn’t want to be like L.A.; that’s what they’ll say. But they will 100% humblebrag about their latest expensive gadget purchase whenever given the opportunity. 

-Leans 110% into every single thing they do; they are seemingly incapable of half-assing something. This is their boom town mindset in action- first it was gold, now it’s tech. They are a MASSIVE overachiever, and this leads to them always being stressed-while-pretending-not-to-be-stressed. 

-Acts kind of spoiled and haughty and can be a judgmental asshole sometimes, but despite this, they actually do care about people. When shit hits the fan, they’re the first one to lend a hand. Maybe it comes from coming close to dying multiple times (in the way that personifications can actually die, not just silly accidents) that gives them a deep sense of empathy and awareness of their own mortality. This leads them to champion causes that seek to make the world a better place. They’re not perfect and sometimes things backfire, but they do try. 

San Diego: 

-Cis female; she/her. 

-Canonically (at least in WTTT) California’s favorite city. She knows this and tries to work him to her advantage to get what she wants. 

-She’s basically sunshine personified. She’s super bubbly, outgoing, and generally friendly. Unlike the other California cities, she is actually genuinely laid-back and relatively stress-free. 

-She’s very book smart, especially with numbers and engineering-related things, but she often acts outwardly ditzy and carefree, leading some people to doubt her intelligence. However, when she gets to work she can prove herself immediately. 

-Historically, she was overshadowed by the other cities. At times, they even forget she existed, despite her trying her best to make herself stand out. I found this great quote from a 1920s businessman: 

“What is the matter with San Diego? Why is it not the metropolis and seaport that its geographical and other unique advantages entitle it to be? Why does San Diego always just miss the train, somehow?"

-Despite being perpetually overshadowed and ignored, or maybe because of it, she forged her own identity. She didn’t feel like she had to uphold any rigid standards like the others did, so she became much more chill. 

-She can be very flaky; don’t try to make plans with her, she’ll either forget or get distracted by something else. If you want to hang out with her, you just have to go with her flow. 

-She can speak Spanish fluently and is best friends with TJ (Tijuana). 

-She’s super fit and could beat you up, but she won’t. 

-San Diego is well-known for having a large military presence, so I had to include San Diego in her day job attire. (Ssh, pretend I know about military stuff and got her uniform accurate) She can go from hippie mode to drill sergeant mode in an instant, but only when someone has really fucked up. 

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me! 

#kind of wttt #but also oc stuff #mur's silly headcanons #personified cities

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

#Fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ori the dwarf #Ori #OC #Fluff #Diary #1st person

[birdy-bat-writes]

Final Conclusions

A/N: So Fish and I came up with this Dad!Constantine concept while talking about this one OC I created and a few OC’s she created. The one I created is named Maya. The premise of her story is that she’s a love interest for Damian and she treats John like a mentor/father figure since he’s teaching her to control her magic. This plot is basically what has sprouted any of the Dad/Uncle/Mentor Constantine content I’ve created. Fish has contributed a lot and I love her so much. The basis for this interaction is that John finds a lot of amusement in the fact that Damian likes Maya and he just hates John so much. Even though it’s based on an OC, I’m going to write it x reader style with the reader having the same powers as my OC. So now that there’s context let’s begin!

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

 It’s the opening night of the Gotham Academy’s festival of the arts. The night where young artists and musicians show off their talent in the galleries and performances, and two people who never show up to these things- like ever- both happened to be here at the same time for the same reason. You. And it irked them to no end.

Both John and Damian arrived at 6:30 pm on the dot. Damian looked so irritated to see John there. Why is he even there? He doesn’t even like going to these things. But then again, neither did Damian. He decided to put his irritation aside and began to walk into the building with John. He had to admit, John stepped up for the occasion.

John cleaned up, did his hair, shaved and actually wore a jacket that was not his usual beige trench coat, all to attend some crummy high school art show. But he did it anyway because it was your work that was being displayed. The disdain he felt towards these events was replaced with a sense of pride he had in you. He sported a grey blazer and black shirt with matching slacks, that contrasted Damian’s black suit.

“Nice to see you here, Damian.”

“Likewise.” The conversation stayed stagnant for a while as they looked around at the different works displayed. Neither of them walked around much. The silence was broken when you walked up to them, looking elegant as ever in your green dress.

“Hey, guys! I’m so happy you both could come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Damian said sweetly. And that was a rare sight for John to see. Damian being sweet?!

“Do you want to see my display?” They both excitedly nodded “yes” and followed you to a wall at the end of the hall. You cautiously cut through the crowd and pointed. “Tada!”

“That looks amazing, Y/N. You’re more talented than you know.”

“Not bad, kiddo. It’s the best thing I’ve seen from you since that chicken you managed to turn green.”, John said ruffling your hair. Thank goodness you left it down. If it was done up, it would have taken ages to fix, but since you knew john was coming, you took the precaution. He had a habit of doing that when he was proud of you, and it made your day every time.

“Thank you. I’m just going to check out the ceramic displays, you guys want to come?”

“No thanks, dear.”

“I’ll just wait here.”

“Okay, see you in a bit. I’m so happy you both are here.” You chimed. You had that little gleam in your eye that you always did when you were happy, and Damian didn’t fail to notice. He lingered on it. Just as he did with your smile, and the soft glow on your cheeks. He was regrettably brought out of his love-trance by the sound of John’s voice.

“Does that look like ketchup on paper to you too? Or is it just me?” Damian wanted to roll his eyes and say something snarky, but instead, looked up at the painting john was talking about. It really did just look like a glob of red paint.

“I can’t even tell what that’s supposed to be. If it’s abstract, they did a good job.”

“To be honest, I don’t really get this ‘art’ thing. Half of these canvases look like something a two-year-old could muster.” John said, and Damian sighed in return.

“You have to look beyond the surface. Art is about the emotion behind the paint and pencil.”

“Alright, Picasso, what’s that one about then?” Damian stayed silent. “I thought you were an artist; you don’t get art?”

“I sketch sometimes but that doesn’t make me an artist.”

“Ah, damaged closet-artist.” Damian groaned lowly.

“There isn’t anything in that piece to understand. It’s just paint splatters. Half of these can only be admired for their technical skill; there’s no emotion behind them. If there is one, it’s not one that I understand.

“Whose work do you like then?” Damian gave that one some thought,

“I like the classics, I suppose. The only current artist whose work I’ve liked is Y/N.”

“Interesting, so, what emotion do you get from her work?” John had his trademark devilish grin plastered upon his face. He knew Damian was head over heels for you, and it sure was fun to get a rise out of him with that. Damian was trying not to let his mind wander off to the charcoal sketches he has framed in his room. You drew them for him and left them in his room one day. They were all sketches of Titus, Batcow, Alfred the cat and his personal favorite, a charcoal rendition of a polaroid you took. It was the two of you at the beach with the family, and Damian was smiling. It was rare and reserved just for you, so he couldn’t help but think the emotion he got from it was love. That photo stayed between the two of you, and the drawing wasn’t shown to anyone but him. John doesn’t get the luxury of knowing that. Why did he even ask? Why is he even here?

“Why did you come here?” Damian asked.

“Y/N invited me.”

“You don’t like going to these events. Why’d you say yes?”

“Same reason as you mate, I care about her more than I hate the rest of society.”

Damian gave a light nod that anyone would have missed if they weren’t’ looking for it. “What about you? It’s not like you enjoy school activities and such.” Damian looked a little flustered.

“I wanted to support my friend and classmate. It’s important to her.”

“Right, you wanted to support your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Aye, but you want her to be.” John said with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t give me that. Its plain as day that you like her.” Damian scoffed and looked down for a while.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” He tried to play it off like sarcasm, but that didn’t really go as planned.

“You hate people and yet you love being around her. You’re an artist and can’t understand anyone’s art but hers. You want to protect her from anyone who you think isn’t good enough for her, myself included. The signs are pretty obvious.” Damian looked a little flushed but remained speechless. “And besides, she’s pretty easy to fall in love with, I hear. My home phone gets calls from boys on the daily.”

“What?! From who?!?”

“Hehe, and that’s how I came to that conclusion.”

“Constan-!”

“There you guys are! I’ve been looking for you. Art awards are going to be announced soon. Want to go find a seat?” You had just found the boys and were ready to take them into the auditorium for the Art Awards.

“Sure thing.”, John said cheerily.

John smiled and Damian just returned a cold glare.

***

They were seated next to each other and chose not to complain about it. Instead, opting to tense over the fact that they were nearing the end of the awards ceremony and your name hadn’t yet been called. This meant one of two things: Either you were about to win one of the top cash prizes or you weren’t going to win anything. And the thought of the latter had both John and Damian gripping the arm rests of their seats tight enough to dent them. The anticipation was building in all of you, but it flooded away from you when you turned and looked at the boys. They looked more stressed than you did, and it made you want to laugh. Of course, you stifled it. This is what you liked to call “Chaotic caring energy”. And truth be told, these two were awfully similar for a pair of people who can’t stand each other.

It was down to second place. You had lost hope and accepted you wouldn’t win anything. The boys hadn’t, though. They were literally at the edge of their seats, and you swear you saw Damian grab John’s shoulder at one point. Just then, you heard your name called. First place, Y/N L/N, 8th grade.

“Yes! I’m so proud of you!”

“Well done, N/N! I knew you’d be up there!” They could be heard over the Loud cheering from the rest of the audience. You walked up and received your award and you waved at them from the stage. John looked at you with a genuine smile and adoration in his eyes. He knew you were talented, and he was so proud of you for working so hard for this. You had finally gotten the recognition you deserved and the look in his eyes reflected how happy he was about it. Damian noticed too. John really cared about you. Damian saw it now. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad mentor for you after all.

While leaving the hall, the three of you saw Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Alfred waiting by the doors. They congratulated you and showered you with hugs. They had seen the ceremony as well, but they watched it from the auditorium balcony. While you were off showing your plaque to everyone, Damian took an opportunity to say something he felt he needed to say.

“Hey, John?”

“Hm?’

“When you said I want to protect Y/N from people who aren’t good enough… I don’t consider you to be someone I should protect her from. You’re a good mentor.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” They shared a look of agreement. Perhaps they had finally settled a truce. “And of course, I’m a good mentor for her. I’m the master of my craft.” John added smugly.

“I saw you light your tie on fire once.”

“Who said that was an accident?” They shared a chuckle. Meanwhile, Bruce and Alfred were making celebratory dinner plans, and you were standing flabbergasted with the boys because Damian and John were smiling at each other??? They walked up to you and overhearing Bruce’s discussion about dinner, Damian took the liberty of inviting John to join you.

You choked on your saliva, Tim looked beyond concerned and when John said he’d be delighted, everyone freaked. Bruce looked terrified, Dick squinted, and Jason was about to take a picture while Alfred just stared.

“Are they smiling at each other?”

“No, that’s not possible.”

“Um, they’re walking side by side and talking without grimacing.”

Y/N looks like she’s about to pass out. Someone catch her.”

#john constantine #constantine #damian wayne #Damian al Ghul #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne fluff #john constantine fluff #fanfiction #DC comics #dc fluff #robin #hellblazer #oc x canon #nightwing #damian wayne x reader #x reader #batman #BatFam #batbros #batfam x batsis #batboys #Red Robin #red hood

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

CURSED: CHAPTER THREE

“I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations”

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Mack and jo have a sleepover. Ben and Kai make a bet.

Warnings: Kai being Kai, swearing

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mack walked out onto the bleachers and instantly found Jo, who waved enthusiastically with a big smile on her face. Mack sat down next to her and pulled out her lunch and looked around. She quickly spotted Kai sat with a group of the football boys, including Ben. Kai has quickly become popular due to his cocky and outgoing personality and his sarcastic humour. Kai said something that Mack couldn't hear and all the boys erupted into a manly fit of laughter, throwing their heads back and clutching their sides. Her sight shifted slightly to the left where Mack saw a group of the popular girls, who sat with resting bitch faces braiding each other's hair and applying more makeup. They were probably gossiping about the boys to their right or Mack and her mystery new best friend. All of a sudden the girls burst into a wicked laughter and all glanced over at Jo and Mack in-turn. Mack scoffed and rolled her eyes, not believing she used to be a part of that group.

It had been two weeks since Kai had driven Mack home from the diner and since then her and Jo had only grown closer, sitting with each other at lunch and hanging out after school when Mack wasn't with Ben. Mack's attention was turned back to Jo when she asked:

"Hey, I was wondering if you'd want to come to mine for a sleepover this Friday?" Jo said before taking a bite of her sandwich, looking at Mack kindly. Mack's expression perked up, the thought of not having to spend time with Ben.

"That would be great, what time should I head over?" Mack said excitedly. Jo waved her off and finished her mouthful.

"Oh don't worry about that, I'll have Kai take you home from school. Although I'll have to meet you back home because I have to go pick up my little brother and sister from school." Mack nodded and frowned.

"I don't want to be any trouble." She replied. Jo shoo her head.

"Not at all, Kai will be happy to take you and I'll be less than an hour. I'll have Kai make you a snack when you get in or something." Mack nodded slowly before thanking Jo and taking a bite of her banana she had been peeling.

As Mack and Jo chatted Jo patted her on the shoulder before pointing in front of them at the group of boys.

"Look!" She spoke as Ben waved Mack over. Mack blushed and Jo winked at her before pushing her out of her seat and towards the boys. As Mack walked down she noticed the popular girls glaring her down over their sunglasses. She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

She reached Ben and he grabbed her hand, pulling Mack down to sit next to him. He kissed her cheek and rested his arm over her shoulders, bottle of water in the other hand.

"Hey babe."

"Hey." Mack spoke back, trying to hide her fear. She caught Kai's eye and he winked at her, but Ben luckily didn't notice.

"We need you to help settle a bet." Ben began. Mack slowly nodded, urging him to continue. "I bet Parker over their that girls prefer being on the bottom rather than the top. I'm right, right?" He said, pulling her closer into him as he talked.

"I, um-" Mack started but Kai interrupted.

"Speak the truth, Kenz." Kai said with a smirk, knowing she'd probably just agree with Ben.

"W-What did you guys bet? Why do I need to decide?" She asked nervously. Ben and Kai chuckled.

"Because, if Parker over here wins," Ben said pointing towards a grinning Kai, "he gets to kiss you, and if I win he pays me 50 bucks." Ben said with a smile.

"So, who won babe?" He prompted further.

"W-well I can't speak for everyone, but most I know prefer to b-be on t-top." Mack stuttered out and Ben was instantly shot a triumphant smirk by Kai.

"Damn it!" Ben said and took his arm from around Mack's shoulders. Kai stood up and pulled Mack to her feet.

He slammed his lips to hers, wrapping an arm around her waist and cupping her cheek in his hand. His lips were soft and warm and Mack was shocked to find herself kissing back. She held onto his shoulders for support and Kai pulled away almost too soon. Damn, she thought, now I hate you even more. She hated the fact that she liked it, wanted more, craved another.

Kai smirked at Mack before stepping away, leaving her dizzy and confused.

"I-I should get going." Mack almost whispered before scurrying away.

"You do that, sweetheart!" Kai called after her, the sound of the boys all laughing following her. She earned the jealous looks of the popular girls, all wishing they could have been there.

~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~•=~

Friday rolled around and Mack was sat quietly in first period, doodling in her sketchbook. She looked up as Kai walked in, laughing at something his friend just said. He shot something back and his friend feigned offence before they both sat down, Kai in his usual seat next to Mack. He crossed his ankles with straight legs and picked up his pen, fiddling with it. His friend threw a paper plane at him and it landed on Kai's desk. He picked it up and threw it towards the teacher, who turned around with a scowl as it hit him in the back of the head.

Chalk in hand he glared at Kai, pausing his writing on the board. Kai put his hands up in surrender and held back laughter, a smirk on his face. His friend was in fits of laughter, clutching his side and hitting the table with his closed fist. The teacher rolled his eyes and went back to writing, used to the popular boys' shit.

Mack rolled her eyes too, turning her focus back to the half-finished drawing of Jo in her book.

"Hey, what's got you so down?" Kai said sarcastically to Mack. She huffed.

"Oh just that I have to sit in a car with you later. Alone." She said snappily.

"Ooooh, Kenz is angry todayyyy." He mocked, poking her cheek. She slapped his hand away and he laughed leaning in to her. "You know I like pretty little things with sharp tongues." He whispered in her ear, earning a scolding look and a smack on the arm from Mack. He pulled away muttering, "O-kay."

Mack reluctantly climbed into the jeep as a grinning Kai opened the door for her. He walked round to his side and climbed in, pulling his seat belt on and looking at Mack.

"Put your seatbelt on, we don't want to to get hurt now do we?" Kai said with a fake pout and Mack rolled her eyes and put her seatbelt on slowly.

"Ugh, whatever Parker." She said with attitude. Kai whistled.

"Parker?" Kai asked while laughing and Mack shook her head.

"What would you rather me call you? Dick? Asshat? I've got options." Mack stated dryly.

"You've got an attitude today, princess." He chuckled before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the car.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." Mack said through gritted teeth, trying to keep focus as Kai rested his elbow on her seat next to her head. It made sense when he looked over his shoulder, reversing out of the space with ease. Kai's flexed bicep right next to Mack made her bite her lip before she shook the thought from herself, she hated him - why did he seem attractive to her?

Kai suppressed a smile at how Mack had bitten her lip and kept driving, glancing at her every once in a while with a goofy grin. After a while Mack got fed up and snapped.

"Will you stop that! I can't think with you grinning at me like that!" Mack said loudly, throwing her hands up annoyed. Kai chuckled.

"Struggling to think about how mind blowing our kiss was? We can do it again if that would help." He smirked at Mack and she hit his arm. Kai laughed at her and Mack stared him down for a moment before bursting into laughter too, throwing her head back again the head rest.

"She laughs." Kai remarked and Mack shook her head.

"This does not mean I like you." Mack said sing-songy while waving her finger at Kai.

As they pulled into the Parker drive way Kai stopped the car and unbuckled himself, climbing out the car and walking around to Mack's side. He opened her door and smiled at her, snickering as she rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag.

"I can open my own doors, Parker."

The sound of Kai laughing followed Mack as she walked up to the door of the Parker house and opened the door, knowing it'd be open from the few times she'd hung out with Jo after school before. She walked through to the kitchen and dumped her bag on a chair, Kai following close behind and throwing his books onto the kitchen counter.

"Would you like a drink? A snack?" Kai asked before reaching up to a cupboard and grabbing a couple glasses.

"Sure, just some water please." Mack said, suddenly nervous. Kai nodded and filled the glass with water, pouring orange juice into the other presumably for himself. He slid the water to Mack and she picked up the glass, downing it in one.

"You should do shots, I'm sure you'd be great at it." Kai remarked, seeing how fast the girl chugged the liquid. Mack rolled her eyes and Kai winked, taking a sip of his juice.

"Jo should be back around four, so what do you wanna do?" Kai said with a suggestive smirk.

"Not talk to you, that's for sure." Mack deadpanned, pulling out a chair and putting her sketchbook in front of herself. Mack heard shuffling and assumed Kai was making something to eat. After a few minutes her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the toast pop out of the toaster and saw Kai lathering a slice with jam out the corner of her eye.

Kai's hand rested on the table next to Mack as he peered over her shoulder, holing his toast in his free hand. He took a bite before asking,

"So what's with the sketches? You never seem to be doing anything else." He said with a full mouth, watching Mack intently as she kept drawing. Mack sighed before answering.

"My family isn't exactly rich, my sister had to skip college and the only way I can go is if I get an art scholarship."

"Oh." Kai said before lifting his hand from the table and pointing to the page. "Is that Jo?" He asked before taking another bite.

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it to her for her birthday." Mack said over the noise of Kai's obnoxious chewing.

"It's amazing. I could honestly mistake it for a photograph." Kai walked over the the sink and brushed off his hands on a tea-towel after taking the last bite of his toast and downing the last of his juice. Mack stood up and picked up her glass from before, filling it up again from the sink. As she turned around and leant again the counter Kai reached past her, leaning his body into hers slightly.

Mack's breath hitched at their closeness and caught herself staring at his lips, then his eyes, then his lips again. After a second he pulled back with something in his hand and a sly smirk on his face. After realising the effect he had on her, Kai put down the object - which turned out to be a pager - and leant on his hand in the same position as before.

Mack swallowed thickly and tried to avoid Kai's eyes, knowing if she looked into them she'd most likely break. Kai's lips brushed her ear.

"Do I make you nervous, Kenz?" He whispered, the smirk on his lips obvious through his tone. She gulped and nodded slowly, bringing her eyes to meet Kai's. He placed a few soft kisses on her neck before pulling away and walking back slowly with an amused expression before holding up his hands and walking out the door.

The sound of laughter entering the house snapped Mack out of her confused and dazed trance.

"Mack!" Jo called before sending Liv and Luke on their way.

"I'm in here." Mack called back just before Jo walked into the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"How was Kai? I hope he wasn't too bad." Jo said sympathetically.

"K-kai? H-he was fine." Mack said quickly and put on a smile. Jo nodded and they headed upstairs to Jo's room.

A few hours pass and Jo sat in her bay window cross-legged with a cute pillow in her lap whilst Mack later on her front on Jo's bed with a pillow under her stomach and propped up on her elbows.

"So have you and Ben..? Y'know.." Jo prompted with a smirk and a raised brow and Mack's eyes widened. She picked up a near-by pillow and threw it at Jo, who held her hands up to cover her face and caught the flying object. Both girls erupted into fits of laughter and Jo continued. "What?!" She exclaimed through the giggles and Mack buried her face in her hands before looking back up at Jo.

"Yes." She said before biting her lip and blushing, looking away.

"What! How was it? Was he good?" Jo bombarded her with questions through the laughter and Mack went bright red, nodding shyly and Jo's eyes widened.

"Holy shit! When?"

"A few weeks ago?"

"Have you-"

"Not since then, no." Mack said abruptly, shocked at this side of Jo.

Suddenly a loud knock sounded on Jo's door before it burst open immediately after. Kai stood there with a disappointed pout and Jo rolled her eyes.

"What were you expecting? A pillow fight in our underwear?" Jo said sarcastically and Mack shook her head whilst holding back her inevitable laughter. Kai put a hand on his chest to fake offence before saying:

"Actually, yes. Yes I was, Josette." He grinned at her and Jo threw the pillow at him that Mack had thrown at her earlier.

"You're such a perv Malachai, get out!" Jo shouted with a giggle and Mack instantly burst into laughter. The twins both turned to face her and Kai raised a brow, waiting for an explanation as to what was so funny.

"Malachai? Josette?" She said through laughter, kicking her feet as tears of joy escaped her. She wiped them away and Kai lobbed the pillow at her.

"Hey! It's not like we named ourselves!" Kai laughed.

"You can't say anything, Malachai. Josette is no where near as bad." Jo stuck out her tongue at him and Kai gave her the finger before backing out the room but leaving Jo's door open.

"Shut the door!" Jo yelled.

"Do it yourselves assholes!" Mack could hear being shouted back from the stairs. The girls kept laughing and Mack dragged herself off the bed, heading over to the door to close it. As she reached out to shut the door Kai jumped out and screamed:

"BOO!" Making Mack jump three feet in the air and scream bloody murder. Kai clutched his side and leant forward as he laughed, starting to cry from the laughter. "I got you so good!" He exclaimed before wandering off to his room.

"Dick!" Mack called after him as she shut the door, turning to Jo who was still giggling girlishly.

#smut #elena gilbert #image #images #stefan salvatore #the vampire diaries #tvd #chris wood #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson #Kai Parker #kai parker fanfic #kai parker x reader #kai parker image #kai parker smut #tvd fanfic

[majachee]

do ur OCs have any sexy lore you can tell us 👀

I DO!! I have a lot!!

I don't wanna give away too much since I plan on producing comics that would explain the story entirely, but I will most certainly share what I can! Which is... Already a lot!

I'll give some lore for just Raziel and Michael to start with cuz I feel like if I start rambling freely, I'll get overwhelmed cuz there's just so much INFORMATION ya know?

Michael is, as some of you may have guessed, the general of Heaven's armies. Now, of course, every section as their own higher ranking angel to receive direct orders from, but those higher ranking angels all gotta answer to Michael. He also works as a judge when the time calls for it.

Michael's a good general (and judge), he's very intelligent when it comes to battle strategies and has a strong voice when giving commands and orders, he's got a strong moral compass too. But outside of that... Michael isn't the best at one-on-one casual conversation, it's not something he's personally confident in, compared to how he feels when planning out strategies for combat, training, etc. He stumbles over his words a lot and sometimes struggles with finding the correct response to a question or statement. He's an introvert, not too keen on crowds and feasts and the like -- so unless it's explicitly related to something he feels he's good at (aka his general duties) then he usually opts out.. That is unless Heylel (aka Lucifer) manages to drag him out from whatever dark corner in Heaven he's hiding in.

It's not that he hates spending time with the other angels in a more casual setting, not at all! He's just super awkward about it and doesn't like large gatherings.

Michael also has a hidden passion for the arts - specifically the musical arts, sometimes he'd hide away in a corner of the room during a gathering Heylel dragged him too and just.. take in the music the Heavenly Choir is producing. He specifically likes instruments like lyres and kinnors, flutes, and when bells come around he absolutely falls in love with them. The ringing makes him happy :). Just wait until he finds out about the triangle! Hes always wanted to play these instruments, but he feels as though it isn't his.. place to be part of the choir, he doesn't even sing really... Just hums along.

Michael's best friend and closest brother at the beginning of his story is (or.. was) Heylel. They're fairly close in age (Michael being only a smidgen younger than Heylel, all things considered). While Heylel certainly pushes his buttons at times with the whole socializing thing, he also knows when to drop it and leave Michael be, and Michael appreciates that, since quite a few of the other angels close to them in rank (specifically Gabriel and Metatron) sometimes don't always pick up on when Michael is just straight up done socializing. (Not complete fault of their own, mind you, sometimes it just be like that.) But there was always a bit of... Tension. Heylel liked being in the spotlight, he liked being in the center of attention, and Michael understood that, he respected that, hell he even let some of his own accomplishments be credited as Heylel's just to make his older bro happy. Michael doesn't mind having some attention and victory taken away from him, after all, he's not one for socializing, after all, Heylel is the more social one -- the more likeable one, always has been, so surely giving him a few more accomplishments to his name wouldn't hurt. If Heylel is happy and enjoying all the attention, then Michael is happy.. right?

Now for Raziel...

Raziel is the keeper of secrets and general knowledge of the universe. According to texts, he sits by God's throne and writes down everything God whispers to him. I've changed that a bit and made it so he can pick up on this knowledge from his Father in.. a weird sort of one-way telepathy? In a way? Yeah, one-way telepathy, that's it! Cuz I want him to walk around and such.

He also has hyper-sensitive hearing that he could even use to pick up on what other angels are whispering about. He has a thing for control, you see, and knowledge and secrets allow him to feel in control of the situations around him. Writing down this information also helps him feel in control, he chooses what words to use, he chooses how to organize this information, he knows where he's written in and how it's written. He's even added little drawings to go along with the written text. Diagrams and sketches explaining the wonders of the universe..! Like, black holes, Obama's last name, ya know. Usual universe magic stuff. He takes great pride in being knowledgeable.

He... Actually hates social interaction for the most part. He likes working from the shadows, being sneaky, being mysterious. Mr. "I'm so secretive, I'm an enigma, nobody knows why I'm here or who I am" ... Everybody knows who you are, Raziel. He does have a small group of friends, surprisingly! Raguel, who's his closest friend, they're practically inseparable -- just two quiet bros who enjoy chilling in the same dark corner in complete silence, just enjoying eachother's company -- AND!! Raphael, Barachiel (how well known is he again lol?), And Azrael! Raph, Bara, and Az are their own group, but thanks to Raph's constant attempts at dragging Raguel to their hang out sessions in Raph's Medicine Hut™, Raziel accidentally got roped into it as well. So he just kinda, stands/sits in the corner during these hangouts and writes in his book while the other four converse (mainly it's just... Raguel being exasperated and slightly weirded out with Raph and Bara's incredibly dark humor, and Raph just being a little shit in general. I love Raph. Also Azrael is having the jokes completely fly over his head but it's okay cuz he's having a good time regardless). What a fun group! :) Sure hope nothing bad or tragic happens to them :)

. I swear most of my characters aren't introverted these two are just... Hella introverted lmao

Feel free to ask for clarification! I know I'm not the best at explaining since I tend to get ramble-y heheh,,

#ask #ratcarney #oc tag #michael #raziel #lost lambs #oc lore #raphael #raguel #azrael #barachiel #heylel

[elbracco]

LiS2 Fanfiction recommendation list - updated

I updated the ff list I made a few months ago. As before, if anyone has any suggestions to add, I’m all ears. I divided the stories into three categories (Post-ending, AUs and Missing Moments) and all the ffs on this list are either completed or still actively updated.

POST-ENDING

Blood Brothers: To Puerto Lobos - And Beyond! by SerratedCucumber, in progress. It starts as the brothers break into Mexico and follows them as they try to build a life for themselves. I swear that I hear Gonzalo and Roman every time that Sean or Daniel say something: the dialogue is that good. 11,000 words for now.

*

Lone Wolf: The One You Feed by zeldanerdster, in progress. This work follows the "Lone Wolf" path immediately after events unfold at the border. Following that, it will chronicle Daniel's experiences for as far as they take him in an effort to reconcile the various open-ended resolutions of Life is Strange 2. Because LW didn’t break our hearts enough. 20,500 words for now. Lone Superwolf by Dreamprism, in progress. The ff begins with Sean’s death at the border and aims to show how Daniel got from the car to the “six years later” scene. The fanfic is written from the perspective of Daniel Diaz, similar to how Sean shares his internal thoughts with the player throughout Life is Strange 2. 17,000 words for now.

*

Parting Ways: After by koldtbold, one-shot. Sean gets to Mexico, Daniel doesn’t. Sean has a lot to do and think about. What I love about this story is that there’s much bitter and little sweet, but like in the game there’s an undercurrent of optimism, a feeling that tomorrow can still turn into a better day. 6,000 words. When There’s Nowhere Else to Run, by Autumnyte, in progress. It begins right after Daniel yeets himself from the car and follows Sean as he tries to build a life for himself in Puerto Lobos. I told Autumnyte that this story feels like a blanket: it’s warm and comfortable. No matter what issues Sean has to deal with, there is a pervasive undertone of "tomorrow will be better" that I think really captures the spirit of the game. He is done running, and he can now start to look to the future with hope. 31,000 words for now.

*

Redemption:

The Bravest Wolf in the World by RoodAwakening, 2 chapters left. Ask anyone for reading suggestions, and they’ll inevitably point you to this story, for a reason. Sean finds out he can use his sketches to time-travel, much like Max did with her photos, prevents Esteban’s death, and has to deal with the consequences as he tries to navigate the new life he made for himself. Wonderful characters, a realistic depiction of trauma, and golden dialogue. I love this Sean, I love the people in his life, I love his interactions with all the characters. 160,000 words (!) for now. A Howl in the Night by Bracco, one-shot. Sean is in prison, and Daniel is free: it’s everything that Sean had wanted when he surrendered. That means he can be happy… right? 28,500 words. Tomorrow's Horizon by AlariOdonell, in progress. A mysterious stranger recruits a post-bay Max Caulfield with the promise to bring Chloe back to life and to right a few wrongs along the way, like those suffered by two brothers. I am very partial to this story because it ticks every box in my list of narrative kinks: a well-written OC, an incoming threat, superpowers, misfits teaming up, IC characters, action and fuzzy feelings... 52,000 words for now, updated bi-weekly. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want by DarkJaden825698, one-shot. After his sentence, Sean reconnects with some old friends and says some things he didn't get to say when he had the chance. This story is a warm, fuzzy thing where everything goes well for a change. I may also be very partial to the title: that song is tied to some of my fondest memories, so extra points to the author. 4,000 words. Spirit Realm: Road to Redemption by Sombraguerrero, completed. Sean has served his sentence, abbreviated by a lack of success on the authorities' part to attain burden of proof on the supposed major crimes. The public has run out of patience and has allowed Sean and Daniel to try and pick up the pieces, with as much help as they can get along what is once again a rough road. 21,000 words. Stay Strange by DarkJaden825698, completed. Dr. Bright is assigned to Sean Diaz as his therapist in prison, and walks him through his trauma while trying to find him a lawyer to challenge his sentence. Crossover fic between LiS2 and The Bright Sessions podcast - you don’t know anything about the podcast? Me neither, and it’s not an issue. 32,000 words.

AUs

And All These Empty Streets by Riona, one-shot. After the apocalypse, Sean and Daniel have a run-in with Joel and Ellie from TLOU. I think that this is the story that made me realize how I love Sean and Daniel so much that I’m willing to read the weirdest AUs and crossovers so long. It flows really well and it feels natural. 2,000 words.

Riona has written a lot of stories that start from an unexpected premise and draw a little vignette. They are all different from each other and I loved them all. Check out her AO3 profile! Can you give me a hint by Idnis, completed. Teenage Daniel/Chris. If you like “mutual pining” and “dumb idiots in love”, this story will make your day. It’s just... fluffy and sweet and innocent, a tiny bit of teenage drama that Daniel and Chris deserve after everything they’ve been through. 22,500 words. Closer to the Heart by darkjaden825698, in progress. After the shooting, Sean waits for the police to arrive. He’s cleared of all charges and sent to live to Beaver Creek, where he must come to terms with what happened and rebuild a life for himself. A teen drama where nothing bad happens to the boys and they get to live normal lives? Hit me with it. 4,000 words. Double exposure by Riona, completed. It draws inspiration from *Your Name*: Max and Sean begin swapping bodies at random. If the premise doesn’t turn you away, it’s a beautiful bittersweet story about two people trying to help each other while their own worlds are falling apart. 11,000 words. Faithless by HollowK, in progress. Six years after the failed heist, Sean wakes up from his coma and has a brother to find. Exactly: oof. 6,500 words for now. I Took Both Roads, series by owlmug. AU where Esteban isn’t shot. Sean/Finn (with some Sean/Cassidy in the first story). It’s a coming of age story, and I really loved how the author mirrored some situations that are found in the game by giving them a new twist. I won’t lie, these stories hurt, because they made me think about what could have been. The characters are spot on, and the interactions of the Diaz family are golden. Bonus points for having Sean behave like a teenage brat at times, because the boy deserved to have temper tantrums and getting into fights with Esteban over stupid stuff. There are also a lot of beautiful images across the series, a lot of lines that feel raw and powerful, and a lot of healing. At times it’s like having a heart-to-heart with the author. Sometimes I felt that the sex scenes were too long, and some of them I found unnecessary, but that’s just my personal taste. I really liked all the four stories, but the last one is my favourite for sure because it follows Esteban’s point of view and it’s *chef’s kiss*.

 1.       A Way to Reappear (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096837), 18,000 words. Sean’s POV

2.       A Piece of the Puzzle (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386670), 26,000 words. Sean’s POV

3.       A Little left Behind (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852561), 24,000 words. Finn’s POV

4.       (I’ve Been Going Through) a Change (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562086), 28,000 words. Esteban’s POV.

If I Lay Here by owlmug, completed. Diverges from canon after episode 3. Sean and Finn try to track Daniel down. Sean/Finn, 46,500 words. I can repeat here most of what I wrote for the earlier series: wonderful characterization, beautiful imagery, touching themes, characters that find themselves along the way. Something that makes you go “Please, sir, can I have some more?” at the end of every chapter. i just don’t know how i’m doing (i’m so curious about you) by Larrymurphycansteponme, one-shot. Another High School AU, another wonderful coming of age story for Sean. I wish I could make it justice without repeating everything I said about owlmug’s series: spot-on characterization, a beautiful narrative about growing up and finding one’s way, wonderful imagery. It’s the story of what Sean deserved to have, and one of my favorite ever. 28,000 words.

MISSING MOMENTS

A Night With Misty Mice by That_one_internet_lover, completed. It follows Sean and Lyla’s concert night that is mentioned in his phone chat in ep.1. It’s the first fanfiction I read after my endgame heartbreak: it gave me all the happy Sean I wanted, and even a bit more. The dynamic between him and Lyla is exactly what I pictured from their interactions in the game, put into words by someone who knows what they’re doing. 10,000 words. Astray by Riona, one-shot. Daniel leaves Sean behind after the events of Wastelands. It’s probably more of an AU than a Missing Moment, since it was written before Faith came out and so it’s not entirely canon-compliant, but it’s still a very good window on Daniel’s state of mind after the heist. I’m eternally grateful to Riona for filling some of the gaps that the game left in the development of these wonderful characters. 1,500 words.  Fire and Floods by Riona, one-shot. Sean and Daniel go on the run, and this fic covers the first day of their journey. A spot-on dissection of Sean’s feelings after the shooting. 1,500 words. life is strange 2 poems by Spotsuns, an ongoing collection of one-shots. These stories have all the oooffness of the game. The stories in here hurt. In the good way, but they hurt nonetheless. Beautiful character studies, and some heavy-duty, post-ending feel unpacking. 11,000 words. Never Stop Shining by CorazonDesnudo, in progress. During his stay in Away, Sean receives a letter from Finn with an offer to help him and Daniel cross the border. It’s a chance to come to terms with a lot of things he didn’t really process before. 11,000 words for now. Torchbearers by Riona. Ep.1’s Sean and Daniel run into Max and Chloe among the ruins of Arcadia Bay. I can definitely see this story being a moment of quiet in the game. 2,600 words. What Remains of the Diaz Family by That_one_internet_lover, completed. Lyla sneaks into the Diaz household after the brothers have disappeared. Heartbreaking oofness ensues as Lyla walks through their memories and faces her own pain. 6500 words.

#life is strange 2 #lis2 #life is strange 2 fanfiction #lis fanfiction #sean diaz #daniel diaz #i'm terrible with tags

[wowzers-howzers]

Ok *slaps hands together* got some good good content right here. Rohan x wife!reader x Jotaro

Reader is joot’s wife, sex pollen stand trope, you know the deal. It’s obviously smut so like yea. Also, it’s a collab with @sacreddarknesss and we listened to Dreamscape the entire time we wrote. Brit Knee is an OC me and my friend came up with on the fly.

Mori mori mori moriocho radioooooo

Morioh was a quiet town, save for the occasional unruly stand user. Rohan sighed to himself in boredom. The only bad part of this town was the fact that there was nothing to do. When inspiration is lacking, the only thing to do was wander around until it struck.

The artist stands up, slowly stretching his back out. Hearing a few pops, he smiles to himself. Maybe he could go check on that new cafe downtown? Or maybe he could people watch down at the beach? Options.

Rohan checks his Rolex and notes that it’s a little after lunchtime, prime time at the cafe. He decides to go there and packs up his camera and a small sketch pad should inspiration strike him.

Walking briskly down the sidewalk, Rohan sees a streak of pink in the corner of his eye. Odd; He slows his walk to a stop and looks around cautiously. Something isn’t right.

Rohan’s emerald eyes flit across the street and at the various suburban homes lined up neatly as far as he can see. Nothing seems off, until he notices an unusual plant breaking up the monotony of the pristine lawns. It looks to be a large Calla lily in full bloom. That shouldn’t even be possible, Morioh doesn’t have the proper climate to support those. Odd.

Deciding to investigate, Rohan crosses the road and silently creeps toward the flower. Inspecting the leaves, suddenly a fine mist sprays out from the stalk of the flower. A sickly sweet scent envelopes Rohan in a stupor. His senses are overwhelmed with the strong smell and he finds himself on his knees coughing. His eyes are watering from the aroma.

“What the hell?!” He shouts, covering his mouth with his shirt. Rohan quickly scans his surroundings, hoping to find the stand user, but he has no such luck. Damn. He fishes his phone out of his messenger bag and dials Jotaro’s number. He was given orders to call Jotaro should any stand related problems arise.

Rohan waits with bated breath as the line rings several times. His hands grip his pants tightly, knuckles turning white from strain. Rohan feels his entire body burning, like a flame swallowing him up. A haze falls over his vision. This stand could pose a serious threat if he doesn’t get Jotaro here now to take it out.

Finally, the line clicks and a female voice greets him on the other side.

“Hello? Who is it?”

Rohan’s throat tightens up and his mouth goes dry.

“Get Jotaro,” he manages to sputter. He hears a commotion on the other end as (y/n) fetches her husband. Rohan swallows roughly, trying to ignore the pulsating tension flowing through his body.

“I don’t know where he is. Are you okay?” Concern is evident in her voice.

Rohan clenches his jaw.

“Enemy stand. Go to the old bookstore. I’m across the street,” he gasps out.

The dial tone drones on. He hopes that she is hurrying. He doesn’t know how much more he can deal with choking every time he breathes.

Rohan lays down on the cool grass, his senses heightened and feeling every blade of grass against his skin. His head pounds with what feels like a migraine and his vision swims deliriously.

He can’t get the sound of her voice out of his head. The soft tone plays on repeat.

Jotaro’s wife was a wildcard. She was a powerful stand user, but she rarely used her powers, preferring to be a support on the back lines. She had a quick wit and didn’t hesitate to give verbal lashings to anyone she believed deserved it. The image of her stuck in his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could never quite capture her in drawing. Her soft features, silky hair, lovely curves. Wait. Rohan tried to snap himself out of it. He had never thought of her in any sexual way, mainly out of respect to Jotaro, but now? He couldn’t help imagining her plush thighs in his hands, her gasps for more, how warm and soft she would feel around him. What was he doing?

Rohan feels a new tension in his stomach and notices his pants tightening slightly. He moves to sit up and groans at the friction. Why was he so hypersensitive? It must have something to do with that stand.

Panicking slightly, he realizes that he may not be able to actually fight the stand user. His mind is too clouded and stuck on his base desires. Part of him has the sick desire that (Y/N) will help him with that after they defeat the stand user. Rohan imagines her form, covered in glistening sweat after an exhausting battle, chest moving up and down as she pants.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears a shout of his name. Oh. His name. The way it flows out of her mouth has him whining. More. He wants her to say his name more. (Y/N) sprints across the street and kneels down next to Rohan.

“Are you hurt? What happened? Did you see the user?” She rapidly fires questions at him. Rohan stares at her in a daze, unable to speak. She frowns slightly and puts a hand to his forehead.

“You’re burning up!” She shouts, but Rohan can only comprehend her soft skin on him, hoping to feel even more. He barely chokes down a whimper when she takes her hand back.

Her (e/c) eyes shoot around her surroundings, looking for anyone who may be watching. She slowly stands up, clenching her fists as she calls out her stand.

She notices movement behind the curtained window of the house whose lawn they were in. Bingo!

Bounding to the door, (y/n) quickly rips the door open and grabs the user before they have the chance to even react.

“What did you do? Tell me what you did!” She yells at the cowering man in her grasp. He looks back at (y/n) in utter disbelief, how had he been found out so quickly? He smirks as he stands up slowly, looking over the female, assessing how much of a threat she is. (y/n) glares at the man, his long blonde hair parting on the left side, with hints of a strawberry pink highlight going down the middle of the part. His blue cyan eyes look her up and down rapidly, perhaps if he activates his stand in time he could have a chance of seducing her.

He smiles widely now that he has the skeleton of a plan forming in his mind. He adjusts his belt buckle, showing off both the gender symbols, his entire outfit screaming 80’s. The white bell bottom pants, the pink v-neck shirt, and the bedazzled pink scarf around his tense neck showing off one of his many amazing hobbies.

“Why hello there beautiful, what brings you over to my humble abode?”

“Well I can’t kick your ass without coming inside now can I?”

“Aweee easy kitten, I don’t mean much trouble. I just wanted to help your friend out there, it seems like he was a little wound up.”

“What the hell did you do to him!”

“Heh, well sugar, I’ll tell ya, if you let me have a little fun with ya.” His smile grows wider as (y/n) glares harshly at him, ready to kick his ass into the next millennium.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but there is now way in hell I would ever even consider ‘messing around’ with you. Now tell me what the hell you’ve done to my friend or I’ll beat your ass!”

“Oooh~, kinky. Well, my dear, my name is Brit Knee and it seems that I’m going to have to teach you a lesson on how to be much nicer to people, you naughty little thing.~”

(Y/n) grimaces in disgust. Fucking cretin. Brit waves his hand up dramatically in the air as his stand materializes, a bright pink stand covered in calla lillies emerges from the ground. It’s face is made from one giant calla lily, and it makes a noise which roughly sounds like a horse neighing. It raises its petal covered arms and fires lillies at (y/n), who quickly doges out of the way.

“That’s it!” (y/n) yells summoning her stand, a giant dolphin-human hybrid emerges from behind (y/n).

“Tell me what you did,” she growls out, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him in the air. Brit chokes at the pressure on his neck.

“Fine!” He sputters. (Y/N) drops him to the ground abruptly, standing over the pathetic man ready to fight if he tries anything.

“Bare Naked Ladies is an aphrodisiac, but I can’t take away its effect,” he cries. “Once you inhale it’s fumes, if you don’t have sex within 24 hours you die!” Brit whimpers on the ground, curling into a ball. “I can’t do anything now so please don’t kill me!”

(Y/N) scowls in disgust. This stand’s power is absolute hedonism. What’s this about dying? She never knew a stand could do something like that.

“What do you mean? Are you even telling the truth?” She interrogates the bawling man.

“I said what I meant! He will die! I swear I’m not lying! Please don’t kill me!” He continues cowering like a little bitch.

“Well how do I stop it?” She questions.

“Well...uhhhhh...hmmm...my best recommendation is take him to a whore house,” he mutters under his breath.

“A what?!”

“Get him a prostitute!” Brit Knee cries out.

“He’ll have to fuck it out of his system!”

“What the fuck kinda stand is that?!” She screams.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me! I am creature I cannot help this!” He cries. (y/n) glares at the broken man before her, almost pitying him. But then she pushes her pity aside and decides to deck him in the face.

-Time skip-

Rohan is curled against the ground, cradling his massive headache. (Y/N) slowly approaches him, hearing him groan in pain.

“How could I be so stupid? Putting my face in a plant! I, the great Rohan Kishibe, have made an utterly terrible mistake!” He cries out to himself.

“Shut up, stop being a baby,” (Y/N) scowls at him. “I found the stand user, he’s done. Let’s get you fixed up,” she leans down to pick up the smaller man.

Rohan cries out almost immediately after (y/n) touches him, which makes her pull away in shock. She sees him sweating and clenching his jaw. Rohan struggles to get to his feet alone.

“Don’t touch me,” he breathes out.

“Are you okay to walk?”

“Who did this?” Rohan demands.

“Brit Knee bitch,” she solemnly answers. “Sorry, that was a joke,” she trails off.

Rohan doesn’t even acknowledge her, “Where is Jotaro?”

“I don’t know. I’ll take you to the hotel in the meantime, you’re in no state to go anywhere alone right now,” she reasons, offering an arm to Rohan again, which he promptly refuses.

“We can call Koichi when we get back. He may know where Jotaro is.” (Y/N) looks sympathetically to the artist. He was drenched in sweat and visibly struggling to keep a grip on himself. He walked with a drunken stupor and (y/n) couldn’t help but grab his shoulders to steady him.

“Please,” he begs her, “I don’t know if you should do that.”

“Well I do know that you can’t walk so unless you have a better idea, this will do,” she snaps at him. Picking him up in her arms, she speedwalks to the hotel, ignoring any passerby’s who look oddly at the pair.

(y/n) enters the hotel, doing her best to ignore the gazes of the staff and any guests who happen to walk by. They probably thought she was having an affair, as they knew that she had checked in with her husband who was definitely not the man she was carrying up to her room right now. Rohan tries his hardest to ignore the problem arising in him, but it’s hard to do when the woman you’ve been silently pining after is holding you in her arms. (y/n) quickly makes her way to the suit and enters, using her foot to kick the door closed. She makes her way over to the bed, gently setting him down, much to his dismay.

Rohan breathes in the smell of the sheets and notices how much they smell like her. How many times had she and Jotaro laid in this bed together? If only she knew how badly he wanted to take Jotaro’s place, holding her and loving her until neither of them could stay awake.

Oblivious to Rohan’s thoughts, (y/n) quickly dials Koichi’s home phone. She bounces leg to leg, praying for someone to pick up soon. The line connects and she smiles brightly, happy for a breakthrough. Rohan notices her smile and can’t help but breath out heavily, wishing he could make her smile like that.

“Hello, this is the Hirose residence. Who is this?”

“Hey Coochie,” (y/n) laughs to herself at her joke, “Is Jotaro there?”

Rustling is heard on the other end as Coochie goes to check, a distant sounding “yes” is heard as he readjusts the receiver.

“Yes he’s here, want me to get him Mrs. Kujo?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He sets the phone down and runs off leaving (y/n) on hold.

(Y/N) worriedly looks toward the artist resting on her bed, hoping that Jotaro has an answer on what to do about this. The phone is picked back up and a gruff voice answers.

“(y/n), what’s wrong?”

“Well, ya see, um…” she trails off. “Rohan got attacked by a stand, I took care of the user but there are some...residual effects.”

“Residual effects?”

“Um, he is, uh, incapacitated by, well I don’t know how to put it. The user said something about fuck or die.”

“What?”

“Fuck or die? I don’t know but he made it clear that if Rohan doesn’t get release within 24 hours, he will die.”

“Well isn’t there a strip club in this town? Take him there. He has enough money to get a happy ending,” Jotaro reasons.

“I don’t think so? Even if they did, I really doubt it’d be like American strip clubs where money will get you anything.”

“Does he have anyone who he can call for this?”

“What, like a booty call? Him? Fat chance of that, but I’ll ask,” she answers. Calling out to Rohan, “Do you have anyone who um, you could ask for, hm how should I put this? A favor? Of the sexual kind?”

“I’m not a whore,” he shoots back.

“Yea that’s a no from him,” she informs her husband.

“No wonder he is so awful. Can’t even get laid. Well, do what you have to do.”

“What? What are you saying Jojo?”

“Fuck him. Quick and easy. It’s not like we have any other options. We can’t just let him die. Good grief, woman, what do you think I’m saying?”

“But! I can’t just! I-I can’t do that!” She protests.

“Why not? You aren’t cheating on me, and it’s not like he will come back for more. If that’s the only way to save him, I’ll allow it.”

“Jojo! I feel like I should have a say in this!”

“Okay. What do you want to do about this? Do you have any better suggestions?”

“Not really, but there must be some other way,” she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What’s the issue then?”

“I-I don’t want to do this alone…”

“Good grief, speak your mind!”

“Please come back. We can do it...together?”

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” he abruptly ends the call.

(Y/N) let’s out an unsteady breath. What had she just agreed to? A threesome with her husband and Rohan? How would that even work? She glances over to Rohan, seeing him panting.

Five minutes pass agonizingly slowly. Finally, the door to the room is opened and quickly slammed shut as Jotaro stalks into the room.

Jotaro glares at the man on the bed, “Pathetic.”

Rohan scoots away from the side of the bed closest to Jotaro, inadvertently bumping right up against (y/n).

“Are you sure this is the only way?” (Y/N) looks at Jotaro.

Rohan covers his lap under the fluffy duvet and looks down.

(Y/N) rubs his back, to which Rohan responds with a low gasp.

Jotaro’s eyes squint, “It seems this is the best course of action.”

Rohan looks between the two, silently praying that one of them will break the tension and just start.

(Y/N) shakily puts her hand against Rohan’s chest.

“Don’t worry, we will take care of you,” she soothes.

Rohan shudders at her low voice and pushes against her touch. Jotaro gets the message and stands behind (y/n) resting his hands on her hips.

She nervously pulls Rohan forward into her grasp and gently kisses him.

It’s like a shock to his system. Rohan can’t help himself as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her back onto the bed, her legs straddling him. Jotaro leans over and leaves soft kisses up and down (y/n)’s neck, ending by sucking against the junction where her neck meets her shoulder.

Rohan’s hands roam all over her body, coming to rest on her chest. He gives an experimental squeeze, eyes lighting up when he hears her shuddering groan. Jotaro holds her hips tightly in his own grasp, hot breath fanning across the back of her neck. The taller man pulls her ass towards himself and slowly grinds against her, feeling himself start to harden.

(Y/N) reaches a tentative hand down to Rohan’s lap, and squeaks in surprise when he roughly grabs her hand and pushes his hard length against it. Rohan shakily sighs, finally getting some form of friction. Taking his lead, she massages him, pressing the palm of her hand firmly along his cock.

She sighs as Jotaro, kneels behind her, giving her support from the awkward angle she was in. He gently caresses her ass, ghosting his large hands over her heat.

Rohan whines against (y/n)’s touch and quickly breaks apart from her soft kisses to take his shirt off, finding the constriction unbearable.

“Calm down there buddy,” (y/n) laughs nervously, only to be met with Rohan’s lust-blown eyes. His mouth is parted slightly, panting. Rohan looks to Jotaro, as if asking permission to do something. Jotaro nods slightly. Rohan roughly pulls your shirt up and off of you, leaving you in a bra. Jotaro makes quick work of that, flinging the now useless garment somewhere in the room.

You gasp in shock and Rohan greedily takes one of your nipples into his mouth, already roughly grabbing and massaging the other one.

“R-Rohan!”

He growls against you and lightly nips at your sensitive chest. Jotaro, not one to be outdone, pulls your pants down and off of your legs, leaving you in your underwear. He presses one hand roughly against your clothed slit. Your back arches against him.

Rohan pulls you down to sit on his lap, relishing in the heat between your legs rubbing against him deliciously. Jotaro glares at him, resigning himself to holding your head back for heated kissing.

You wiggle your hips, gyrating on Rohan, sending him into even more of a frenzy than before. Jotaro snakes an arm around you to reach down your front side. His hand momentarily rests against the elastic band of your panties before diving underneath, teasing you with one finger against your lips. You whine against him, trying to adjust your hips to feel more, but Jotaro refuses to give in and finger you. Instead, he gently presses against your clit, adding more and more pressure every time you move against him.

“J-jojo, please,” she whines needily.

“Please what?”

“Please go in, please use your hand, I can’t take the teasing,” (y/n) grinds against Rohan and Jotaro’s fingers.

Suddenly, Jotaro dips his fingers into her wet pussy, roughly finger-fucking her. She screams out, slamming her hips down, making Rohan moan as well.

Hearing him, (y/n) looks down and sees how painfully clothed he still is.

“Rohan,” she mewls. “Take your pants off, please~”

He visibly shakes, hearing her beg and say his name so sweetly is like music to his ears. He slides his pants down, leaving him in only boxers. (Y/N) palms against him before grabbing him through the thin material. He gasps at her hard touch. Keening against her for more, Rohan bucks his hips into her grasp.

(Y/N)’s thighs squeeze against Jotaro’s hand, prompting him to take his hand out, seductively licking her moisture from his fingers before giving her another open-mouth kiss.

Tasting herself on him, she moans against him, tilting her hips against him to give him a roll. Jotaro breathes out heavily before pulling back and stripping off everything. (Y/N) finds herself licking her lips, watching her husband take it all off for her before he rejoins her on the bed. Jotaro presses his thick length against her still clothed pussy, rubbing in between her thighs, groaning at the feeling.

Rohan watches with rapt attention, the pure eroticism of the action making him drool. He watches (y/n)’s face as it contorts in pleasure. Rohan grips himself, tugging himself out of his boxers, grabbing her hand to grip him directly.

His tip is leaking, after being so needy and wanting for so long, he can’t take much more waiting.

Jotaro grabs (y/n)’s hips, hands playing with the band of her panties before ripping them off.

“H-hey! Those were my good ones!” She protests.

“Shut up, I’ll buy you more,” Jotaro silences her, one hand holding her neck, not putting pressure on it yet, but just holding it there. Rohan, taking the moment she is distracted, runs his fingers through her folds, gathering up moisture.

She squeaks in shock, watching as Rohan puts the finger in his mouth, sucking her essence off of him.

“Exquisite,” he sighs, gazing at her adoringly.

“Mine,” Jotaro replies, possessively grabbing (y/n)’s body, positioning himself at her entrance.

“Me first,” he grunts, relishing in the feeling of her tight walls clamping down on him.

(Y/N) let’s out a shaky gasp, never getting used to how well her husband fills her up, just how large he is. Jotaro finally bottoms out, only to pull her hips back up before dropping her back on his dick. Rohan watches, eyes stuck on the sight of her cunt swallowing the large dick whole.

“Make yourself useful,” Jotaro glares at Rohan, prompting him to stimulate her clit while she bounces on his cock. Rohan eagerly complies, using his hands to rub against her.

(Y/N) cries out, overstimulated from Jotaro’s dick jackhammering into her combined with Rohan’s skilled hands working her clit.

“G-Gonna cum,” she gasps out, thighs clenching, hips bucking against Jotaro.

“Cum for me, show him how well I treat you,” Jotaro growls in her ear.

(Y/N)’s orgasm hits her like a freight train, spasms ripping through her body as her vision whites out from the pleasure. Her pussy clenches onto Jotaro’s cock, bringing him to release too.

He holds her hips steadily against his own, panting in her ear as he empties himself out into her. Rohan finds himself transfixed by the sight of Jotaro’s cum oozing out of her.

“Here. Your turn,” Jotaro removes himself from her folds still breathing heavily.

“Blow his mind, honey,” he whispers against her ear. (Y/N) shudders at the gravelly tone in his voice before nodding, falling down to cage Rohan between her arms. Her arms support her weight, not wanting to just fall against the smaller man. He is broken out of his stupor when she lines herself up against his cock and sinks down slowly.

To say Rohan enjoyed it would be an understatement. It was pure bliss, Jotaro’s cum acting as a lubricant, allowing him to slide against her velvety walls. The warmth made him feel like he was melting underneath her, eyes rolling back as she finally reached the bottom.

Giving an experimental roll of her hips, Rohan’s arm shot up to her back, his nails digging in in pleasure.

“A-Ah~ (y/n)! Please,” he begged. Oh how the mighty fall. The great Rohan Kishibe, reduced to a begging fool at the slightest provocation. If he had the mental wherewithal to be ashamed, he would be, but right now, the only thing he could think about was how warm and wet her pussy was as she bounced up and down on him.

(Y/N)’s sweat-covered body warmed up again, the angle Rohan’s dick hitting her in just the right way. Her back arched, pushing her pelvis against him. The new position added just the right amount of friction against her clit with every bounce of her body.

“Rohan, I’m, fuck, I’m cumming!” She shouted, her hips losing rhythm as she ground herself against him, clenching down. Rohan moves his hands to her hips and roughly pulled her up and thrust into her, not wanting to lose the delicious friction.

Gasping out, (y/n)’s body went into overdrive, the added pleasure wiping her out entirely. “F-fuck~!”

Rohan moaned his approval, hips canting to meet her hips every time he dropped her down onto his dick.

“So close,” he cried out. Unable to hold out any longer, Rohan slammed with more fervor. Like an animal seeking release, Rohan held her body tightly against him until finally the coil of tension snapped, crying out as he rode out his orgasm.

“(Y/N)!” Rohan couldn’t help but scream her name, shooting his cum inside her to mix with Jotaro’s. His vision was filled with stars, drool spilling out of his parted mouth, body entirely blissed out.

Jotaro watched in amusement, he knew his wife was a dream in bed. He watched as she rolled off of Rohan to the side. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the bathroom to clean her up.

“You’re welcome,” he said, kicking the bathroom door closed to clean (y/n) up.

Rohan, thoroughly spent, stared up at the ceiling, unable to move from his pure exhaustion. His body finally started ramping down, finally relaxing after hours of pure tension.

#My writing #rohan x reader #rohan x reader x jotaro #jotaro x reader #part 4 jojo #rohan kishibe #jotaro kujo #youtube

[vanaera]

Mikrokosmos

[Moodboard made by the wonderful @bluesxde] Synopsis | There are three times in Jungkook's life where he has fallen in love with you and most of the time, they are more than what they appear to be (Or the three times Jungkook learned what falling in love felt like because of you). Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, drama, some angst (surprise hons!) Wordcount | 7.8k Warning | Mentions of bullying A/N | Some parts in this installment have references of the garden talk Jungkook and the OC had when he was 17 (read “The Sprout”) and the Lee Taeyong Incident (mentioned in “Melodies in a Distance”). You can view these stories first before reading this, although this fic can be read as a standalone (though reading the garden talk would give you a better view of the concerns Jungkook was holding, hence, it will explain the depth this installment will give to the whole series).

  Read more football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose!

           Some things do not seem what they appear to be. A frown appears to be a sign of discontentment but can actually be an intuited expression in unprecedented incidents. Smiles do not always mean satisfaction and pleasure but can also be a forged sign of strength and invulnerability. Likewise, a home does not automatically signify an establishment composed of four walls and a roof. It can be a hobby, a memory, or even a person. Despite being bound by the sense making of people and the laws of the world, every bit in this universe is more than what they are. Each represents the special and significant intersection of the world and its phenomena that can only happen once and never again. And just like how you told him that the universe the people live in are more than what it is, Jungkook came to realize that his affections for you are more than what they seem to be.

           The first time Jungkook encountered this knowledge, it was through your story about the star prince.

           “Did you know, the Star Prince lived in a kingdom called Constellatia?” you close your giant storybook, a sewn stack of papers Jungkook learned was just filled with your random sketches, and grinned at him. Broken teeth and all.

           Jungkook scrunches his nose. “That name sounds just like normal constellation. It sounds lame.”

           “No, it's not!” you huff behind him and Jungkook feels your presence behind him when a sprinkle of sand lands on his castle.

           “Oops. Sorry,” you mutter and Jungkook, your ever-stubborn seven-year-old neighbor that moved in beside your home six months ago, clicks his tongue. He turns his back to you and decides to build another castle.

           You seem unbothered by it as you plopped beside him. You’re already used to your neighbor turning his back to you that you started to see this as an endearing quality about him.

           Jungkook has always been this aloof since he moved in with his mother. He doesn’t speak to anyone at school, not even to you! Sure, it was unsettling to know that a kid like you does not care for wonderful stories and playdates and prefers to play alone but as your mother told you, you shouldn’t give up and Jungkook just needs time to warm up. And yeah, you learned that friendship takes time to bloom as after a few months of your constant befriending tactics, Jungkook for the very first time, met you halfway with a shy “You already know I’m Jungkook, right? So…yeah, can you...can you tell me about the story you told at school yesterday again?”

           Anyway, you started blabbering again. “You see, the Constellatia is the universe we see. The stars up above us at nights belong to the Star Prince’s kingdom.”

           Jungkook still has his back turned to you and you pout. You made your voice louder. “The Star Prince is really cool, no? He lives in a world full of stars! How amazing can that be?”

           Jungkook hums as he piles another bucket of sand.

           Seeing his disinterest, you realize it’s time to bring out your big guns. “You know, I found that the cosmos are not what they seem to be.”

           This time, you successfully caught your neighbor’s attention. Jungkook halts on his third bucket of sand and looks at you, suspicious. “How did you know?”

           You find yourself smiling. You knew this will work. “Well...I saw the 'cosmos' on the TV. It showed some pretty pink and purplish waves of skies and I've never seen anything prettier than that in my whole life,” you glance at Jungkook and after assuring he's interested, you smile wider. “And I figured that my toys are not what they usually are, I thought then that the cosmos are more than what they really are.”

           Jungkook tilts his head. “What do you mean you found your toys 'not what they usually are'“?

           “I found out that they're actually alive! Mom even assured me that they really are living and breathing! She said they just come to life when people are asleep because they are afraid of capitalism?” your eyes wander to the right and after recalling that your mother used the same term, you affirmed it with a grin. “Yeah, capitalism.”

           When you see Jungkook scrunching up his forehead, you shrug. “Don't ask me. I don't know what capitalism is. My mom just said so, but I bet it must be really bad because it prevents us from having an animated conversation with our toys.”

           You may have not actually narrated the story of the Star Prince to Jungkook, he came home with a story on the tips of his tongue and an excited jump in his steps. Although the effect of your cosmos thingy and the toys turned out to be something you didn't expect when Jungkook informed you the next day that his mother scolded him for knowing something adults should only deal with.

           “She even told me I'll get plenty of white hair if I continue talking about it. Don't bring it up again, okay?,” Jungkook looks into your eyes. “My Jeon Effect will be in danger.”

           “Okay, I promise,” you give him a small smile and raised your pinky for him to interlock with his own. He locks it and presses his lips on his thumb.

           “Promise sealed. For the sake of the Jeon Effect.”

           “Yeah, for the Jeon Effect!”

           “Oh!” Jungkook sputters, almost jolting as he remembers your unfinished story yesterday. “What about the Star Prince again?”

           You cross your arms and wiggle your eyebrows. “I thought you weren't interested yesterday?”

           Jungkook instantly finds his cheeks and ears heating up. “I uh–um I–”

           “He lives in a kingdom called Constellatia,” you chuckle at the way his eyes widen.

           “And?”

           “That's it. I'm still doing my umm research? Yeah, research about it, so that's what I only know as of now.” Seeing his shoulders deflate, you immediately reassure him, “But! You'll be the first person to know of him once I figured out his story!”

           “Promise?” Jungkook holds out his pinky but what he said seems to just pass through your right ear and out of the other.

           “Don't you think we're doing too much pinky swears?”

           “There's no such thing as too much pinky swears–do you promise or not?”

           “Fine, fine, okay, I promise,” you lock your fingers again and press a soft kiss on your thumbs.

           The both of you went home with fingers interlocked, eventhough it was only two months ago that Jungkook told you he hated any kind of skinship because it's corny. He didn't mind the dampness of your sweaty hand that afternoon, so you relished the warmth of his hand with a big, goofy smile.

           The story of the Star Prince was brought up again a year later, coinciding with your neighbor's birthday, and therefore, was told in a pillowfort the both of you made in his bedroom.

           “His hair is made of stardust and starlights?” Jungkook aks and you nod, opening your flashlight.

           “Yeah, the Star Prince's hair glows so much that when he feels happy or excited,” you press a button on your flashlight, turning the scope of the light much bigger than before, “his whole body can emit light that can enshroud the whole room around him just like this.”

           Jungkook's jaw drops in amazement when he sees how gigantic the light of your flashlight shined on his wall that it almost mimicked a spotlight.

           Happy with your neighbor's reaction, you continue, “Because of these instances that makes him burn up with so much light, his kingdom Constellatia can easily provide the sun enough shine to light up every planet in our galaxy for a few years. On the usual basis, his optimism provides enough daylight to our world. When fortunate enough, his light crosses to the dark realm which allows the Midnight Princess–who balances the light he casts with darkness and also his destined bride–to pull up the moon and use the stars the Star Prince created to draw constellations on her skies.”

           “That sounds wonderful,” Jungkook says, eyes shimmering and for a moment's second you thought the glow in his eyes can rival the “spotlight” you created on his wall. However, it soon diminishes and you're left staring at his honey brown eyes again when he pulls his lips into a small frown. “But, how can the prince and princess meet if they're separated by two realms? Of course they have to meet face-to-face to fall in love, right?”

           “That's where you're wrong, Kook. You don't need to physically meet to fall in love.”

           Jungkook just looks at you more confused than ever.

           “You see, the eyes are not the only ones which can see,” you reach out to him and Jungkook freezes in his spot as you place your palm flat against his chest. “Your heart can see, too. Far more than what your eyes could.” You giggle, “See? You're nervous. I can't see it on your face but I can feel how fast your heartbeats are.”

           Jungkook lets out a squeak and before your eyes can see the reds that must have colored his cheeks, he swats your hand away. You laugh and he feels his cheeks become hotter. “Wh-what? I-I'm not nervous.”

           “But you didn't deny that your heartbeats are really, really fast, Kook.” When he didn't reply, you let out a chuckle.

           “Anyway, as I told you, you need not to physically meet to fall in love. The constellations the Midnight Princess lays on her skies manages to dwell a little longer on daybreak just enough for the Star Prince to have a glimpse on. Most of them have messages, others just artworks of the princess, nevertheless, it warms the heart of the Star Prince. In return, the Star Prince creates more stars for her to use and paint on the skies, each containing a secret message that unravels once the princess touches it. Some of them express the Star Prince’s admiration for the princess’ artworks, but most of them tell how much love he feels for her.” You smile at him, “Remember the star we saw yesterday at the playground which our teacher pointed out wasn't actually a star but a planet?”

           Jungkook nods.

           “That’s Venus. The joy the Star Prince felt when the Midnight Princess returned his feelings made him shine so much that the planet Venus caught tons of his starlight enough for her to shine like a star even in broad daylight up ‘til evening to carry the message ‘You’re utterly beautiful’ for the princess.” You turn to Jungkook, “See, Kook?  Essential entities like love are invisible to the eye and can only be seen with the heart. And with that, here’s another gift of mine for your birthday.”

           You turned off your flashlight and immediately, the two of you are surrounded by darkness.

           “Look above you, Kook.”

           Jungkook raises his head and his mouth opens in wonder, “Whoa.” Above him were thousands of constellations, lining up every corner of his room with glowing stardust and starlight. Some were red, orange, and pink, the others in blue, purple, and green, while almost all of them are yellow. Most of them even look like they’re glittering gold. They fill up every space in his room and for a moment, Jungkook feels he isn’t in his room but in the outer space–in the Constellatia you painted for him and you, a secret world only both of you know.

           The stars you placed on the ceiling with the help of his mother that morning when Jungkook is playing outside are only glow-in-the-dark sticky stars you bought with your mother in Walmart. However, they looked so much more than what they really are when they are spread above you, blanketing the both of you in comfort and wonder no other world can do.

           As if taking the words straight from your mouth, Jungkook gasps in wonder, “This…this is beautiful.”

           “Yeah, it really is,” you feel your smile growing into a grin. “It’s the masterpiece the Midnight Princess created when she and the Star Prince finally met in the first eclipse a thousand years ago.” You turn towards Jungkook again and he looks at you with surprise when you place a soft peck against his cheeks. “Happy 8th birthday, Kook.”

           You came home that night with your end of the metal-and-strings phone he crafted (“so we can you know…call each other whenever we feel like it,” Jungkook mused while running a hand through his hair) along with a new milestone in your friendship with your neighbor.

           When Jungkook’s mother came to bid him goodnight, she found him smiling in his sleep for the very first time. That same night, you found yourself dreaming about one single sentence over and over again:

           “Y/N, you know…you’re my very first friend.”

 --

             The second time Jungkook encountered your view of things being more than what they seem to be, it was because you followed him when he ran away from home.

           Teenage years have done Jungkook no good. A complete 180 turnover from his peaceful childhood, the seventeen-year-old him was not someone he could ever be proud of. He lost hope on his dreams, he never had any plans for his future, fucked up everything he built his life on, he traded your friendship for some twisted kind of brothership with Lee Taeyong and the other hotshot kids, and he even got into constant fights with his mom about his growing bad reputation in school. Sure, he asked for forgiveness from his mom and you when he woke up from his horrible mindset after the Lee Taeyong Incident which involved you six months ago, but it's not enough. It will never be enough. So Jungkook decides he'll stop fucking up everyone's lives by leaving everything he’s ever known. He've already caused everyone he loves enough damage to last their lifetimes.

           However, all of his plans started to go downhill the moment he spot the beanie he gifted to you three years ago on some hunched up gal in the bus. The seconds seem to fast after that–he jumped off on the next stop, started sprinting for God knows where, and now you're here running with your breath leaving you as you try to keep up with him.

           “Jungkook, stop!”

           "Y/N! Just go home!" Jungkook yells over his shoulder before he faces forward again, biting his lips in frustration. He wills his legs to fasten his pace. He’s already a city away from home and only now when he stepped down the bus stop did he know you’ve fucking followed him. Why the hell did you follow him? How come you’ve known his plan of running away? Do you actually think you can convince him to come home, when what–after he just screamed at his mom that she can never help him with his feelings of un-usefulness? When he knows he’ll never lead a meaningful life even if he tried? When he knew that everyone’s right–he’s just a scum dragging down everyone around him and it took him one stupid year to realize that they’re true? When he’s hurt everyone he loves, even you, far worse than what he intended? Jungkook chokes down a grunt and pulls the straps of his backpack tighter. He’s not coming back. Looking behind will only hold him back and he didn’t need that as much as you don’t need him and he’ll be fine with that–

           “Jungkook, can you fucking stop and look at me, just for once!”

           Jungkook pays no heed and continues running but when the absence of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him dawns on him, every limb in his body ceases into a staggering stop.

           Even if you didn’t follow him, Jungkook simultaneously feels sick and relieved to know that you’ll never leave him alone.

           “Jungkook–”

           “What were you thinking?! You knew I would fucking do this and you even thought of fucking following me–Why did you even follow me?!”

           “I–uh–I–“

           “It’s fucking midnight, Y/N–”

           “Do I look like I fucking care?!” you scream and under the pale glow of the streetlight did Jungkook notice the streams of tears cascading down on your pale face. “You just bolted out of your home with no qualms of turning back. What do you want me to do? Wait until you’ve finally really left for good? I can’t fucking do that! You’re my fucking bestfriend, for Christ’s sake!”

           Jungkook remains unmoving in his spot and you found this enough of a reason to take a step forward. “Don’t pretend that I don’t fucking know why you’re doing this. Yes, rumors about you and your bad reputation about your constant fights have spread like wildfire in high school. Yes, you’ve hurt your mom even if she’s the only family member who have stuck by your side. And goddamn sure as hell you’ve also hurt me when you figured my weirdness and nerdy-ness is out of place with your pursuit of so-called manliness. You’ve pushed me away, turned blind eye to my bullies, and even joined Lee Taeyong and others in their bullshits. But are they enough to fucking change how I see you? Hell-fucking no! You’re still the shy seven-year-old boy I met when I was four–the one who I took time knowing and befriending through letters pasted under your desk in preschool. You’re still my friend who would do anything it takes to make his mom smile because he loves her so much. Remember the tons of thank you cards you send to her monthly up ’til now?”

           Jungkook nods, his huge backpack dropping to the ground, but he doesn’t look up to meet your eyes.

           “If that’s not a sign of how much you love your mom, I don’t know what else, Kook. Yes, your father fucked up real bad with your mom, but don’t you dare think you’re anything like him. Yes, you have your flaws, but unlike him, you learn from them and you try your best to right them. You always made it up to your mom whenever you fight. You always told her you’re sorry, you clean the house, try to do better in school. You told Jimin to help me with Taeyong even when you’re far away in the city with your team for your teambuilding camp, remember? And you finally said your apologies from the shits you put me through the second you came back to town.” It was only now did you realize you’re only a couple of steps away from your bestfriend without him running farther away. You sniffle from your sobs, hopes still raised. “I know your mother will forgive you from the things you said which I know you didn’t really mean. I have already forgiven you, Kook, and you know that’s a big deal because you know how bitchy I am when I hold grudges,” your lips try to attempt a smile but you can’t will them to, “So why not give yourself a chance to forgive yourself?” You realize you’ve began sobbing again as you continue, “Remember what I told you in the sandbox when you were seven? That things aren’t really what they appear to be? Tha-that-that they are more than what they seem to be? That shit I made up when I was four is still true until now, you know. I figured that people are more than what they seem to be. Tha-that we can create beautiful things much larger than ourselves–that we can become our own worlds we create for ourselves. And with that,” you look at his eyes for the first time, warm brown and homey like the first time you met him. “You are more than what your flaws make you to be,” your voice flattens in a heavy sigh and you push away your fringe to wipe away your tears.

           You raise your arms to encircle around his frame, not fully enclosed enough to keep him to stay in your arms, but not loose enough for him to easily slip away. “I-if you still want to run away, then put down my arms and I assure you I’ll never be in your way again. B-but if you choose to come home with me, you know I’d gladly take you back in my arms again.” You know how volatile your situation is right now–that it’s possible you’ll never see your bestfriend ever again–but you still wanted him to have a choice, to freely believe that he is more than his mistakes and regrets, that he still has so much to become. He’s still unmoving and you close your eyes, unknowingly whispering, “Please stay.”

           Seconds do not need to drag too long as the moment your wish fills the empty street, you feel Jungkook immediately engulfing you in a tight hug with his tears wetting the sleeves of your jacket as he continuously mutter “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

           "You know I’ve never been those first benchers, Y/N, right?” he chokes on his sobs but he continues, “I never had grades worth to be proud of. I’m just always there–doing whatever insignificant, fucking everyone’s lives, just being a nobody. Trying to prove something I cannot prove from the start. It hurts to know you aren’t good in anything, you know? It pains to know you have no dreams for yourself.”

           “But you have,” you interrupt him.

           “I have?”

           “Yes you do,” you look up at him and hugged him tighter. “People say it’s okay to not have any dreams but I dare to disagree. Not all dreams can be grand, you know. They can be little things like growing up a dog, finishing a day’s work, living ‘til you make it to another day–they’re small things but ironically big. Remember the number systems we studied in Algebra?”

           Jungkook huffs. “Yes but why you bringing up Math, Y/N? You know I’m a shithead in that–”

           “Shush,” you chuckle, “I know, I know. I’m not good in that either. But do you remember the infinity the numbers held? Thousands and hundreds of numbers can go on and on. Decimals go on and on but they’re much smaller than those thousands–sometimes even insignificant, especially when we’re talking about bucks and dough. However, they also hold an infinity, Jungkook. Small things can have immeasurable value. Small worlds of their own, small universes of their own, they are more than what they appear to be. And knowing you, Kook, I know you want to make your mom happy. That’s more than enough to be a dream. That’s more than enough to be a reason to motivate you to keep living.”

           Jungkook nods and he sinks further in your embrace. “But you know I still want to find my passion, Y/N, right?”

           “You’ll find it, Jungkook. I know you can. If you need help, I’ll be here by your side.”

           “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

           A moment of silence passes before Jungkook breaks it again. He sighs, “I'm sorry for-for doing all these. It's dumb, I know."

           "It is,” you pat his back, “But it’s okay, we’ll get over them eventually. Part of growing up.”

           "I'm sorry I've always been a shitty friend. I can't forgive myself for what Taeyong and the others did to you."

           "It's okay. You've already apologized and I've long forgiven you."

           “I'm sorry I’m not yet someone you could be proud of."

           "Don't say that. You know I've always loved you being my friend. It's all I could ever ask for."

           "I-I just thought I’m becoming too much like my dad–fucking up mom’s life, fucking up other’s lives, never doing anything right. I’m afraid to be the source of my mom’s sadness again so–so I figured if I left her, she’ll do and feel much better.”

           “Do you think she’ll actually feel better if her one and only knight in shining armor leaves her?”

           Jungkook shakes his head. “No.”

           He could feel you smiling against his jacket. “You already know the answer, Kook, so stop comparing yourself with your dad. You’re not fucking up anyone’s lives here.” You pull yourself away to look at him again, “Oh and I’m sorry too for talking too many shits about your dad. It might have been too painful for you.”

           “It’s okay,” Jungkook pulls you and presses your head against his chest again. “I got over him already. He’s just plain horrible to me. He deserve all those shits.”

           “Okay, if you say so.”

           Jungkook hums and he feels you flutter your eyes close as you sink again in his embrace. He relishes the feeling of your warmth he has missed for long months.  He shifts in his place to have his arms in level with your head and before you could ask what’s wrong, he caresses your hair and whispers against your head, “Can we stay like this for a while? I kinda missed my little peanut otor-nim.”

           He could feel your smile grow into a grin. “Of course, Kook. I missed my StarKook, too.”

           The last buses have long been gone on the streets, the night much darker than the one in your hometown, but the stars that twinkle above the two of you have never burned this bright. You knew this midnight can easily outshine the million ones you’ve had in your whole lifetime.

           In the morning, you and Jungkook went home. He went straight to his mom to ask for forgiveness and he’s never been happier in his life to feel his own voice reverberating again on his end of your metal-can-and-strings phone.

             "Hi, Y/N. I-I'm back. Thank you for bringing me home."

 --

             The following day, Jungkook finds himself in a green field two blocks away from his home and a football shoved under his nose.

           “What’s this?”

           “A football.”

           Jungkook scoffs. “yeah, no shit, Y/N.” You open your mouth and before you can utter some witty comeback, Jungkook cuts right to the chase. “Why are we here anyway?”

           You raise your eyebrows at him, lips tugged into a smirk. “I thought we’re going to find your passion?”

           “In here?” Jungkook gawks, “We’re no longer kids to be playing, Y/N.”

           “Oh but we, are!” you grin and you start running ahead of him. “You already know my passion is to write, Kook! And when I write, I feel like a child! Children have this thing of knowing what they want. They find it easier to be happy than adults. But remember, we adults have been children before. We only need to really open our hearts to remember what it felt like. We can do paintings tomorrow, miniature sculptures the next day, visit the planetarium on the other day; but for now, let’s do football. It was our favorite game when we were toddlers, remember?” You turn back to him and spread out your arms. “So what do you say, Kook? Play football with me?”

           “Fine with me,” Jungkook hollers and he kicks the ball so far he could already see losing your breath running for it. The rustle of the grass felt too new in his ears as the greens bend to the loud crunches of his shoes. He could be running close behind you but he could tell you’re already sporting a large grin growing on your face.

           You giggle, nearing the spot where the ball has stopped. “We haven’t set our goalposts yet!”

           “Worry about it later! Just worry how you’ll catch up with me with your cute ass legs!”

           “You’re really asking for it huh? Here you go!” you kick the ball farther away, but not as far as your bestfriend did–just a couple of five large steps Jungkook knows he can easily make. “Argh! Damn my short legs! Hey, Kook, wait for me!”

           Jungkook laughs and before he knew it, you two have become children again getting acquainted in the sandbox where the story of the Star Prince originated. Unheeding to the the noise of the city, to the stares of other people, the both of you let the green field become your own world, your own universe filled with countless wonders of lights and stars just like the utopic Constellatia you created for you and him. However, this time, the stars don’t reside in Constellatia, but in yours and Jungkook’s eyes.

           When you went home, he told you he wanted to play football again and for the following weeks, you led him to countless green fields to play with you. It wasn’t until the next month came did he find his passion for the sport. You came home muddy and messy but Jungkook returned with a newfound dream and a song in his heart he never heard before. You don’t need to place your hand flat on his chest for him to know his heart started to tune itself to the melody of your name.

 --

             The third time Jungkook was reminded again of the philosophy the four-year-old you have created, it finally had a name. Unknowingly, the things you said no longer involved the universes in general, but instead him and you, and the things he started to feel for you.

           “’Microcosm, from the Greek words micros kosmos. To have humankind be regarded as the epitome of the universe’,” Jungkook looks at you, smirking. “Wow, you’re doing real good with our project for our literature class. How come you can easily define these words without using a dictionary? I mean,” he scrambles for his own paper, “look at mine: ‘Microcosm means small cosmos.’ I struggled for like twenty minutes just for this four-worded shit!”

           “It sounds fine to me,” you shrug.

           “No, not for me. Yours still look the best.”

           “I still think yours is okay,” you lay your back down on the mat Jungkook has spread on the grass. “Leonardo da Vinci once said ‘simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.’”

           Jungkook chuckles and follows suit, hands supporting his head as a pillow, his eyes set straight towards the night sky.

           University ended early today, which granted you and him to spend the rest of your free time biking and chilling. Of course it was Jungkook who did all the biking with you sitting behind him on the makeshift seat he added behind his on his bicycle. You’re still learning how to ride a bike and Jungkook would rather cut his arm than let you on a bike again so soon as the last time you did, you almost crashed into a speeding car. Nevertheless, the night was fun. You had dinner in Mark’s, stopped by an arcade, bought keychains for each other at a street event you passed by (a pink bunny for Jungkook and a blue sleepy cat for you), and now you’re here, stretched out on the mat you packed, staring at the stars while you compare your notes in your class.

           Glancing at you, now talking about another piece you’re writing, Jungkook wonders how he’s been too lucky lately. He was able to snag the same class with you in Comparative Literature even if it wasn’t even offered in his program in Computer Science just so he can have one common class with you. Hell, he still can’t believe how he managed to get in this prestigious college with a sports scholarship just so he can be by your side as long as his chances could let him. He first thought it would be pretty weird not to have you by his side when you practically grew up together. However, now, the heat that creeps in his chest, cheeks, and ears that makes his fingers tingly and his feet jumpy whenever he’s with you, he’s no longer sure if his initial reason to study in this college was still the same as the one he now holds in his heart. If there’s proof, it had to be his stubbornness to tell you that he actually just applied in Comparative Literature to see your sappy face (that weirdly started becoming too pretty in his eyes) and the sparkle of your eyes. They said when people talk about their passion and dreams, there’s some otherworldly light and shine you can see in their eyes that makes them glow with so much beauty and God was your beauty utterly astounding when he saw those stars in your eyes in that class for the very first time. He hopes that he also looks that attractive to you when he talks about football even if he’s practically showered in sweat and mud– wait, what–

           “Jungkook,” at the sound of your voice, Jungkook whips his head to you, warmth searing in his chest and his ears. You seem unknowing to the thunderous beats in his ribcaged heart as you say, “I…what do you think about sending my story about the Star Prince to a publishing company? I know I just wrote, like, two chapters about him and his adventures, and of course I’m still not sure about them but I think they would be nice enough for a debut work, right?”

           Jungkook turns to you on his side. You follow suit and as soon as your gazes interlocked, Jungkook felt the need to look a little bit away from the hazels of your eyes before he stutters on his own words. “I-I think it would be great, Y/N. I mean, the Constellatia was a pretty awesome world and I bet other kids would also like to hear about it just like how I did back then and still do now.”

           You shift closer to him and Jungkook gulps. “You sure? You’re not just sucking up to me just because I helped you with our define-it-yourself project?”

           “Wh-what are you saying? Of course not. I know you’re good and I’m not lying when I say so.” Jungkook bites the corner of his lips. “When are you sending the copy to the publisher?”

           “I’m planning to send the online copy tomorrow and the hardcopy on the other day. It would have been better if I could give them the hardcopy tomorrow, too, so by the time my birthday comes,” you giggle, “I can have their feedback as a surprise birthday present. But I think it would be impossible to do since finding a ride to the city is hard and–

           “I’ll drive you tomorrow there.”  

           “With your bike?” you scrunch your forehead, “won’t it be too hard for you to drive that long with another person adding weight to the back?”

           Jungkook doesn’t know what the hell he’s spewing out right now but he feels it’s right to just let them out. “But I want to. So you can have their feedback soon as you said. And you know I can,” he smirks, “I have the Jeon Effect by my side.”    

           “Oh, fucking stop with that!” you laugh, playfully punching his shoulder, and Jungkook chortles as he makes faces at you. When the hysterics tone down, you brought his attention back, “But no, seriously, are you sure?”

           “Yes, I’m sure. I want to do that.”

           True to his word, Jungkook drove you to the publishing company the next day. You submitted your work, your bestfriend treated you in a café (“Early birthday gift so I won’t bother to remember the date again and again–” “Damn you, Kook!” “Just kidding, sappy face!” “Don’t call me that!”), and went back to your dormitories with a smile on your faces and your hearts warm enough to keep you from the cold of the night.

           Jungkook believed in mutual exchanges. He believed in order for a relationship– whatever form they are–needs some giving and taking. These instances provide the knowledge of assurance: assurance that the promises uttered will be kept, assurance that you mean good and nothing else, assurance that one is not alone in this connection. Such things are needed because it provides solace to a disturbed mind and soul, like some new batteries for a flashlight stored in the emergency kit. All his life, Jungkook felt it was you who kept on giving and giving in your friendship and he felt guilty for not being able to do anything for you in return. Night upon night, he wishes to his lucky stars to give him at least one shot to let him return the favor and day after day, his wish gets delayed. So when his chance came when the stars aligned in your birthday, Jungkook, for the first time in a long while, didn’t know what to do.

           “What do you mean she hasn’t turned up in her night classes?” Jungkok’s voice sounded hoarse and exasperated as the worry wears on him in beady cold sweats on his forehead.

           “I told you, man” Jimin says on the other line, “Y/N’s not here. I asked Hoseok hyung and Seokjin hyung who were in her communication class before the one I’m taking with her right now and they also said she was nowhere in sight.”

           “Fuck.” Jungkook curses in his breath and immediately changes his training shoes into the sneakers he wore earlier that day, phone still lodged between his ear and shoulder.

           “You alright, man?” He could hear Jimin’s own worried voice on the other end but he can’t will himself to focus on his friend as he crams his training clothes in his gym bag, along with his birthday gift for you.

           At the lack of response, Jimin decides to give some assurance. “I will keep looking around for her, too, and I’ll let you know immediately.”

           “Thanks, man,” Jungkook manages to mutter and by the time he ends the call, he’s already sprinting away from the football field, leaving Taehyung and his teammates perplexed and shouting for him to come back.

           Times like this, Jungkook thanks himself for having enough knowledge about you that you share in bits and chunks that can easily help him in piecing things together. That’s why at the twentieth minute mark of running around the campus, Jungkook isn’t surprised to find you sitting on the abandoned swings of the park behind your dorm you two always frequent. What he didn’t expect to find though were the fat tears running down from your swollen eyes.

           Jungkook immediately rushes to your side, falling on his knees in front of you from the sudden skid he did on a downslope but the pain didn’t bother him as he cups your face in his large hands. “He-hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

           You shake your head, “I-it’s nothing. I-it’s stupid.” You try to tear your gaze away from him to wipe your tears but Jungkook beats you to it when the rough pads of his thumbs wipe them away for you.

           “It’s not nothing when you’re crying about it, especially when it’s your birthday.”

           At the mention of your birthday, you cry harder and Jungkoook bites his lips as he hugs you, running his hand soothingly on your back, breathing in even breaths for you to follow to calm down. He can wait until you’re ready to talk.

           Jungkook remembers why his mother meant when she told him that when he cries, it also breaks her heart. He’s always seen you smiling whenever you’re with him that when he sees you crying, it becomes too painful to bear. It hurts much more when he knows the times he’s seen you cried like this was because of his stupidity and insensitiveness. He closes his eyes to shake those memories away as he hugs you tighter. It’s different now. He swore to himself he’ll never make you cry again.

           It takes a few more minutes for you to calm down. When your breathing finally evens out, Jungkook feels you pulling away to look at him. You don’t meet his eyes but the squeeze of your hand on his own reassures him you’re ready to talk.

           “The-the manuscript we sent was rejected.”

           Jungkook’s eyes widens. “Wha-what?”

           “The publishing company thought that my idea of a universe created by one single prince for his princess is ridiculous. The-they said tha-that it would have at least an once of chance of getting published if I didn’t lack so much in my writing skills. I-I really tried my best, Jungkook, and I also expected rejection bu-but I didn’t imagine it will hurt this bad.” You start tearing up again and Jungkook instantly opens his arms to let you fall in his embrace again.

           “I-I thought I really had my shot, you know,” you try to stifle your cries in Jungkook’s shoulder, “But you know what, maybe they’re right. I’m not that good, Kook. Not even close.”

           “Hey, don’t say that.” Jungkook pulls away to look at you. He wipes the fresh tears that have fallen and tucks your fringes that have stuck on your tear-stained cheeks away from your face. “It’s just the first time we tried to send a copy for publishing. And yes, rejection is highly probable but this doesn’t mean you have to stop. It always happens! Look at me! I was rejected in the football tryout in our last year in high school, but did that stop me from continuing football? No. No one can tell me what to do with my life and my dreams, except me. No one can bring down the Jeon Effect, you know?” Jungkook tries a smile and when he sees your lips curve a little, relief slowly creeps to soothe the tightness in his chest. “Not only in football, I was also rejected in the drama club! The people there told me I got no experience with the sound and light controls but did that hindered me from doing just that? No. I tried for another application in the second semester and they got me as a trainee but at least, I’ve got better chances now.” Jungkook rubs his neck, “I know this probably really rubs off on me, like I’m probably the King of Rejections right now, but you get what I mean right?”

           You nod and when he sees you wiping your tears with a smile growing on your tired face, Jungkook  feels like he could straight up go to paradise.

           “Maybe that publishing company isn’t ready for you yet and that’s okay because we will keep trying and working hard, right?”

           “Yeah.”

           “So don’t cry anymore, okay?”

           “Okay.”

           “Here, I got you your birthday gift.” Jungkook rummages through his gym bag and before you can have a clear view of what he’s pulled out, you could already feel his gift’s warmth on your chest.

           “I knitted you a scarf; scarlet red like your favorite color. I kinda wanted to put more effort in your birthday this year so yeah,” Jungkook finishes the loop around your neck, “I made you this. Hope you like it.”

           “This…” you trail off, eyes still in wonder of the fabric, “wow it feels so soft. I can’t imagine you actually made this.”

           “Believe me I did,” Jungkook chuckles. “You know you’re the only one who I’ll spend this much effort in making gifts.”

           “R-really?”

           Jungkook smiles. “Yeah.”

           The night dwindles further into midnight yet the two of you didn’t mind. The bitter cries and sobs were now replaced with laughter and wonderful stories. Jungkook told you the first escape from training he did tonight and you told him the classes you skipped classes today for the very first time. Jungkook talked about the gingerbread man story he wants to animate for his class and you brought nostalgia to the both of you as you narrated the story of the Golden Prince and his Rose just like how you first told it to him. All of it have been a blur of solace, happiness, and innocence in Jungkook’s mind. However, Jungkook felt the whole world stop when you looked at him through his eyes and said one sentence that changed everything about you, him, and his feelings for you that don’t seem to be the way they appear.

           “I remember the night sky I saw in my childhood whenever I look at you.”

           Jungkook stills, throat dry, eyes wide. “I-I-Why?”

           You chuckle, “Because you always remind me of everything we’ve been through a-and everything we can be.”

           Jungkook slept that night running your words in his head over and over again. The warmth that have constantly resided in his chest ever since you’ve taken him to the green fields have now turned into a widespread wildfire, waking up every nerve in his body and lighting them up as if he is made of every bit of starlight and stardust in the universe.

           Jungkook felt the need to lay his palm against his chest to feel id his heart is still actually intact or has it already gone with the wind with his brain cells who kept on singing the syllables of your name. Little did he know, this will just be just the start of his own pursuit to match the gravitational forces of attraction between your universe and his, not as the Golden Prince, but as Jeon Jungkook–your childhood bestfriend and your little prince.

Epilogue

1. Falling in love is similar to the feeling of belongingness. To be in love, is to become a friend.

2. Falling in love needs self-discovery andself-development. To be in love is to love yourself.

3. Falling in love feels like owning a whole other dimension you've never heard of with another person. To be in love is to be brave enough for the fall, all risks and benefits be disregarded.

           Jungkook bites the cap of his ballpen. Yeah, this is enough of a storyboard for the animation for his project.

           On the table beside his notebook for his major Computer Science and his letter from the Korea Football Association, is a pink envelope with a golden crown. Peering from it is a cream-colored paper with his illustration of your golden prince and a red rose.

"Dear princess,

By now, the sprout I have sent you last year’s Valentines must have bloomed. Sunflowers symbolize longevity of love, adoration, and joy (I researched about this, you know ;D). They’ve always known how to find the light and all throughout my life, I’ve always been motivated by your light and the light of the worlds you created for your readers, for you and me. I know this is getting cheesy but I figured they’re enough to carry the message and the weight of my feeling for you and I hope, these flowers have made you happy.

On the side note, please enjoy this film I created of how I came to love you, just as much as how I enjoyed falling in love with you.

Love from a faraway land,

Jeon Jungkook, your little prince. 

P.S. By the time you finish reading this, I’m probably behind you now with a bunch of roses and a cheesy eyecandy outfit trying to ask you out for a date. I hope you say yes”

A/N pt. 2 | HI HONS! I MISSED YOU ALL! I know I’ve been off the site quite for long so I this is my way of making it up to you guys! Lately, I’ve been struggling with writing and when my uni announced a week-long break, all my lucky stars aligned to help me sleep more, write more, and enjoy more. I worked on this fic for like a whole week after weeks of inactivity, so please send me what you think about it! (Seriously, I need this, hons. I need to know if I’ve improved or not. *Lowkey me trying to get some compliments and love too because balancing my life between being a content creator and a uni student can be quite hard and some love can really do wonders for me, you know? Hehe)

Thank you for the support you’ve all been giving me! I love you, hons!

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

#bangtan bookclub #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #btsguild #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #the prince and his rose #tpahr #football player!jk + childhood friend!you #football!jk #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook reactions #bts reactions #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts #bangtan #bangtan seonyeondan #jeon jungkook #kookie #jungkook #Sorry for the long wait! #here it is hons!

[drakexwillow]

One Long Summer

Chapter 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x Willow (OC) Maxwell Beaumont x Sophie (OC)

Warnings for the series: Smut, Swearing, Drug use, Sexual references. do not read if under 18.

Premise for the series: This will an AU following Drake when he leaves Cordonia to go to Texas for a year, instead of college he decides to get a job and just live a simple life with Maxwell joining him to also get away from court.

A/N: Okay this is my first ever series, i’ve decided to make the jump and just go for it so it might be abit rough around the edges. Let me know if you want on or off the tag list at any point

Tags: @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @lyndsaycdrake1111 @furryperfectionlover @tinypenguincheesemachine  @janezillow  @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld  @msjr0119 @jlynn12273

Chapter one here if you need to catch up.

Drake was roused from his sleep when his alarm on his phone went off. Groaning her rolled over shutting it off before burying his head back into his pillow. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, silently thanking himself for remembering to leave some aspirin and a glass of water on his bedside table. He popped a pill into his mouth before downing the glass of water. He dragged himself out of bed and hopped into the shower, hoping it would help him feel more awake. He swiveled the handle letting the water run before he climbed in, he stood as the water cascaded over his body. Once satisfied he climbed out, grabbing a towel and drying himself before throwing on his work clothes and boots and making his way to the living room in search of coffee.

Drake wondered into the living room finding Max sitting cross legged on the couch wrapped in a blanket, eating cold pizza from the night before and engrossed with the cartoons on the TV. He chuckled taking in Max’s disheveled appearance “you look like shit” 

Max groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face “I think i’m dying”  

Drake made his way to the kitchen, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and pouring coffee into each of them “i thought you’d be used to a hangover by now”

“I’m never drinking again”

Drake snorted as he walked over handing him one of the mugs “We both know that’s a lie”

Max nodded “yeah” he took a sip of coffee while side eyeing Drake “Sooo...you and Willow looked like you got along last night”

Drake shrugged “just being friendly” taking a swig of his own drink and thumbing at his phone.

“so friendly that you kissed” Max waggled his eyebrows as he nudged Drake’s shoulder with his own.

Drake glanced at Max before looking back down at his phone.

“Drake and Willow sitting in a tree K-I-S-S” 

“Okay” Drake interrupted standing from the couch putting his phone in his pocket “i preferred it when you were dying”

 “Hey!” Max shouted “take that back”

Drake chuckled as he walked over to retrieve his keys from the bowl by the door “I’ll be back at 5″

“Are we watching the game tonight?”

“sure” Drake called over his shoulder as he left the apartment.

*********************************************

Willow’s eyes snapped open as she felt the covers being pulled off of her “5 more minutes” she groaned pawing at the blanket desperately trying to pull it back over her head.

Sophie stood, arms crossed over her chest “Willow get your ass out of bed it’s nearly noon”

Willow sat up rubbing the sleep from her eye’s “fine i’m up, happy now?”

Sophie cocked an eyebrow “sitting up doesn't count as getting out of bed and I've come to help you unpack your stuff”

Willow eyed the boxes around the room full of her things. She’d been back a few days and still hadn't unpacked not wanting the memories of the past 3 months to flood her mind. She sighed as she rubbed a hand down her face “Alright i just need to get this over with”

Sophie sat down on the bed placing a reassuring hand on Willow’s arm “Look i know it hard but the sooner it’s done the sooner you can forget about it”

Willow slowly nodded her head “I know”

Sophie pulled her into a hug “It’s good to have you back Lo, i missed you”

Willow pulled her tighter “i missed you too”

***************************

Drake was finishing up his work on the ranch for the day. Walking around the stables making sure all the horses were secure. he left the stables pulling the gate closed and securing the padlock around it. He slid both his hands into his pockets and began walking up the dirt path back towards the ranch. He paused as he looked at over the field's and rolling hills in front of him, the sun peaking over then casting a golden glow. Drake as startled when he heard a voice behind him “Beautiful isn't it?” He turned to see Willow sitting under a tree leaning against it, a sketch book on her lap and various pencils laid on the floor beside her. Drake looked back at the view as he nodded “sure is” he turned making his way towards her “I’m surprised to see you out here” Willow twirled the pencil in her fingers “trying to find inspiration”

Drake sat down beside her as he glanced down at the drawing on her sketch pad “you like drawing?”

“yeah, i’m a bit rusty i haven't drawn anything since I've been back”

“Mind if i take a look” Drake gestured towards her sketch pad. She nodded him handing him the book. she shifted pulling her knees up to her chest and rested her head on her knees as she watched him. Drake turned the pages looking through the drawings. All of them of different landscapes, forests, rivers, lakes and various other locations. Some had pictures taped to the opposite page he guessed used for reference “these are really good”

“you think so?”

“Yeah” Drake nodded “have you been to these places?”

“Most of them, i traveled for 3 months.Took a lot of pictures and decided to draw the ones i liked” Willow shrugged

“i think this ones my favorite” Drake pointed to the drawing on the page. Willow shifted to look over at the book, a smile tugging at her lips “Mine too and lucky for you i can actually take you there” she stood picking up her pencils and took the sketch book from Drakes lap “come on” Willow held out her hand to help Drake up. He took her hand and he got up onto his feet. He followed her to the ranch, just as they reached the steps she turned towards him “wait here i’m just going to put these inside” she motioned to her pad. Drake waited as Willow ducked inside the ranch and then appeared moments later. She lead him round the back of the ranch and to a wooded area, she held out her hand “take my hand it will be easier to get through” Drake placed his hand in hers as they weaved there way through trees and bushes until they came to a clearing. She lead him just short of a little cliff edge and dropped his hand, she sat down with her legs dangling over the edge and patted the space next to her. Drake complied and sat down mimicking her position, He looked out taking in the few. Not far down from the little drop was a lake that sat in the middle of a wooded area, as the trees encircled the lake. the sun shone through the trees causing the water bellow to sparkle in the light. It was quite and peaceful, the only sound to be heard where the birds singing. “This is beautiful i didn't even know it was here”

Willow smiled as she scanned the lake “Most people don’t venture past the trees that’s why” 

“So how do you know it’s here”

Willow sighed “My mom used to bring me here all the time as a kid. every night we would sit out here and talk or just enjoy each others company away from everything. Once she died i used to come out here when i need to think  or draw or just be away from everything when it all got too much. i haven't told anyone about it, it’s always been my own little safe place.”

Drake smiled as Willow slowly swung her legs back and forth over the edge “i’m surprised Sophie doesn't know about this seen as its part of her ranch”

Willow shook her head “It’s not, it’s my families ranch Sophie was just looking after it while i was away”

A comfortable silence fell over them as they both took in the scenery. Drake turned hie attention to Willow allowing himself to drink in the sight of her. Her hair was tied up in a loose messy bun. The way the light hit her caused the gold flecks in her brown eyes to shine. He loved the freckles that were scattered across her nose and sprawled down onto her cheeks. Willow turned to look at him, blushing under his gaze, she grinned caused to deep dimples to appear either side of her face “what?”

Drake shook his head not able to hide the smile on his face “Nothing just...thank you for bringing me up here”

Willow grabbed Drakes hand and squeezed it “I know we only met last night but i like you Drake, Sophie’s told me a lot about you”  

Drake watched as her eyes flitted to his mouth and back up to meet his gaze, he licked his lips in anticipation as she started to lean towards him. There faces were inches apart when Drake’s phone began to ring, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, he fished his phone out of his pocket to see Max’s name flash across the screen. Willow giggled as Drake rolled his eyes as he answered the call

“What is it Max”

“Drake the game starts in 5 minutes you were meant to be back an hour ago!”

Drake could see Willow Biting back laughter as he smirked at her “yeh sorry i got caught up i’ll head back now”

“Make sure you bring food”

Drake chuckled “okay i will” he ended the call and slide his phone into his pocket. Willow playfully nudged his shoulder “i didn't realize you had a curfew ill keep that in mind next time” Drake laughed as he rose to his feet, offering out his hand to Willow “come on I better head back he’ll only keep calling me otherwise”

the pair walked back to the ranch hand in hand, as they reach the steps to the porch Willow turned to look at him offering him a smile “i guess i’ll see you round”

Drake nodded “i’m sure you will” Willow stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss onto his cheek, she turned and headed up to the front door as she reached it she turned and gave him a small wave which he returned. As she diapered through the door Drake headed towards his truck, a smile plastered on his face as he rubbed his cheek.

#trr #trr fanfic #trr/trh #the royal romance #the royal heir #drake walker #drake x OC #maxwell beaumont #maxwell x oc #pixelberry choices

[kurokoros]

Focal Point | Part Four

Title: Focal Point

Rated: M (language, smut, references to past violence)

Words: 10.7K

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Jones!OC

Summary: Jubilee stares at him in disbelief, mouth opening and closing though no words come out. A dozen emotions flicker in her eyes as she takes in what he’s said, but they pass too quickly for him to register anything but her confusion. Eventually, she crosses her arms, leaning back in the booth, quirking a brow at him. “You want me to pose for you,” she repeats slowly, absolutely bewildered by the request. “Naked.”

Sweet Pea wets his lips, mirroring her pose, looking far too calm for the request that just came out of his mouth. His eyes meet hers, throat bobbing with a harsh swallow, and she’s relieved to see a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “Yeah.”

College!AU in which Art Major Sweet Pea needs a nude model for an assignment. He decides to ask his best friend.

Chapters: One | Two  | Three | Four | Epilogue

AN: This is going to be a three four part fic (now with a short epilogue!) that’s part of my extended College!Verse Like the Kids in Art School Said! It should be updated every Thursday until complete assuming nothing comes up in my personal life! Inspired by @sweetpeasbabydoll wanting an artist Sweet Pea au with him doing a nude portrait!

The first two hours go surprisingly well.

Sweet Pea isn’t entirely sure what he was expecting. Hormones. A raging hard-on. The two of them being too awkward for this to work at all and him being too distracted by her sudden nudity to do anything but stare. But it’s not nearly as awkward as it should be, and that might be the bigger problem.

At first, he tried to keep his eyes off her as much as possible once his brain caught up with the fact that Jubilee was naked and waiting for his instructions, a task made even more difficult thanks to his conversation with the guys earlier this morning. He’s long come to terms with his feelings, and their kiss last night is still fresh in his mind, but now isn’t the time to drag up buried feelings and drunken kisses.

He just hopes he can get through this without saying or doing anything stupid.

Working with Jubilee is easier than he thought it would be—easier than it should be. They’ve always been a good team, no matter what they were doing, and so far nude modeling is no exception to that. The first few minutes involved some awkward floundering as she moved into a position that worked for him but wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her to hold for an hour or two, with Sweet Pea trying not to stare at her chest as she shifted around on the couch across from him.

If he didn’t know better, he would think she was doing it on purpose just to fuck with him.

His brain practically short-circuited when she asked how he wanted to do this—“Where do you want me, Sweets?”—and it’s a little embarrassing how long it took for him to respond. He’s just lucky he didn’t stutter when he told her to get on the couch. And he’s even luckier that he managed to swallow back a groan when she did exactly what he asked, her eyes never once leaving his.

Sweet Pea might be wrong about saying there was nothing sexy about figure drawing. There was definitely some subtle, uncomfortable shifting in those first few minutes from his end. It’s a miracle that Sweet Pea managed to keep his more inappropriate thoughts locked away as he started the sketch. It certainly wasn’t easy though. Between the way Jubilee kept looking at him and the utterly shameless way she stripped down for him, he’s lucky that uncomfortable shifting was the worst of it.

Though, that might say more about Jubilee than it does figure drawing.

They settled on a classic Titanic style pose. Simple and easy. Not original, but it meets the task at hand. Jubilee stretched across the couch with her left arm draped over her head on the armrest and her right hand nestled next to her cheek, her fingers curled slightly. Fangs will probably give him hell for it later when he inevitably finds out, but Sweet Pea couldn’t help but notice how much softer she looked like that.

Sweet Pea kept to his promise of not being a silent artist and the conversation has been steady since he started working. It’s always easy with Jubilee. Sometimes more than it should be. After a while, they both settled into their spots and he was sucked into the drawing, letting the motions take over.

Despite her taking the initiative earlier, it took Jubilee a little longer to relax. She was stiff at the start, unsure where to put her arms, but seemed to shake it off once he started talking to her.

Soon, it starts to feel like any other Saturday afternoon. Sweet Pea works on his project. Jubilee curls up on his couch and enjoys the quiet and lack of roommates. He’s almost able to forget that she’s naked. Almost, but not quite.

It’s a little difficult to forget that important detail when he starts to work lower on the drawing and the little details of her skin start to appear on the paper in front of him. Jubilee’s clothes are still scattered across his floor and he keeps getting distracted every time she shifts and her dark hair tickles at her skin.

He’s torn between his professionalism and his feelings for Jubilee and one of them is going to give before the night is over.

“—and that’s why Fangs and I almost got arrested in Cancun,” he finishes, pausing in his drawing when her shoulders shake with laughter. Despite his and Fangs promise to never discuss the details of that night, she finally managed to weasel it out of him. Fangs won’t be happy about it, but the fond amusement swirling in Jubilee’s eyes is worth it.

“I can’t believe you two.” Jubilee shakes her head and snorts, but falls still again a moment later.

Sweet Pea finishes the detail of the thin, nearly invisible scar on her hairline before he glances at her over the top of his sketchbook. “What was I supposed to do?” he asks her, grinning when her lips twitch upwards. “The guy attacked me!”

Jubilee scoffs at him as her head tilts towards the hand lying on the pillow beside her face. “He threw a piñata,” she corrects him simply, still trying to wrap her head around the nonsense story.

“Same thing.”

“So you pulled out a samurai sword? Where did you even find one of those?”

Sweet Pea’s gaze flicks up to meet hers before he traces the curve of her neck with his eyes, adding definition to the rough sketch in front of him. “I thought it was fake,” he reminds her.

Her collarbones take shape on the paper and for a moment he allows his eyes to wander down to the tattoo on her ribcage, nestled just behind her breast. It’s just a splash of blue and lavender against her skin and he’d think it was a bruise if he didn’t know better.

He rips his eyes away from the tattoo when she says, “I can’t leave you two anywhere, can I?” Sweet Pea’s eyes slide back to hers and his heart swells when he sees the familiar, fond look in her eyes.

Sweet Pea turns back to his sketchbook just as quickly. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “You know us,” he jokes, “always getting in trouble.” Jubilee hums her agreement and he can’t help glancing at her again. “And you could have come with us.”

“And be a fugitive in a foreign country?” Jubilee asks him teasingly. “I’ll pass.” She grins at him and he shakes his head.

They lapse into comfortable silence for a minute as Sweet Pea tries to get the tiny details of the spatter of freckles beneath her collarbone just right.

Sweet Pea’s eyes immediately find Jubilee’s when he looks up again and for a moment he lets himself drown in them. His hand falters for a second, his pencil hovering just above the half-finished drawing. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat, “what are your plans after this?”

Jubilee’s eyes narrow just a tick and she purses her lips. “Tonight?” she asks him slowly, hesitating for a moment. “Or…”

He nearly swears when he catches the implication. “Graduation,” he corrects quickly, avoiding her gaze as his face heats up. “It’s coming up quick. You haven’t said anything about it.”

“Good question.” Jubilee wiggles her fingers idly before taking her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on it. Sweet Pea stares as she rolls it between her teeth, his mouth suddenly dry. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“What?” he jokes, shaking away the thought of taking her lip between his own teeth and making her moan, “no big plans with your literature degree?” He quirks a brow at her and Jubilee rolls her eyes.

“Shut up. You sound like my dad.” Sweet Pea chuckles and Jubilee sighs as she relaxes back against the couch. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”

A smile tugs at his mouth. “I know you will.”

“And what about you?” she asks. “Any big plans after this, or are you going the starving artist route?”

He rolls his eyes, but grins at her teasing. Art as a career might not be the most stable thing, but Sweet Pea knows his friends and the other Serpents will support him no matter what he chooses to do. They got him this far after all. He just doesn’t want to let them all down like he did before.

Sweet Pea’s smile fades as his thoughts drift to the Serpents and his last conversation with FP over winter break. “Your dad offered me a job actually.” Jubilee’s brows knit together in confusion. “Hog Eye’s looking to retire. They need someone to run the Wyrm when he does.”

“What about your art?”

“There’ll be time for that when I’m not working the bar.” It rings hollow even to him and Jubilee’s frown deepens.

“I thought you didn’t want to bar-tend anymore,” she murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

He shrugs. “It pays the bills. It’s stable. And I’m good at it.” Jubilee hums her agreement but doesn’t say anything. Sweet Pea’s hand stills and he stares at the half-finished sketch in front of him, tracing the fine lines with his eyes. “So I’m thinking about asking Micah for an apprenticeship once we go back to Riverdale.”

Jubilee is quiet for a moment. “Tattoos? Now that I can see.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re good with your hands,” she tells him. Sweet Pea snorts, shaking his head, and she laughs. “So why haven’t you asked him yet?”

“Not sure if it’s right, you know? Tattooing, it’s…” he trails off, unable to find the right word. “Delicate,” he decides on as he meets Jubilee’s eyes. “It’s easy to fuck it up.”

As usual, Jubilee sees right through him. “It makes you nervous.” She doesn’t move from her pose save for the slight downward curl of her lips, but that’s all he needs to know exactly what she’s thinking.

He laughs, ignoring the heavy look in her eyes. “Something like that.” Sweet Pea starts detailing her hair, falling in messy waves around her face, taking care to capture each strand as it falls around her.

They lapse into silence again as he gets sucked into the sketch, each stroke of his pencil more delicate than the last. Eventually, Jubilee asks, “so how many times have you done this?”

“Nude drawings?” Her head gives the slightest of nods and he hesitates before drawing the wayward strands of hair tickling the side of her neck. The small, red marks that he left last night have long since disappeared, but he can still taste her on his lips and hear her little gasps in his ears. Sweet Pea grits his teeth, shifting on the stool uncomfortably. “A couple times,” he answers vaguely, forcing his eyes not to wander further down her neck and trying to keep his thoughts from straying somewhere they shouldn’t. “I took that class on it before, but we only had one drawing session per week. Fangs and Archie ended up modeling for the class and I very seriously considered dropping both of my majors.” Sweet Pea glances at her, catching the slight quirk of her lips. “If I ever have to see Archie’s abs again, I think I might rip my eyes out.”

She giggles. “And do you like it? Figure drawing?”

“It’s okay,” he tells her.

It’s not a real answer. Not really, anyway, but it’s as close as he can get to one. Because he likes the intimacy of it, how different it feels from any other form of art he’s tried, but he’s not sure if he actually likes drawing people he barely knows when they’re naked. He can appreciate the form, but it’s the vulnerability that really gets to him, and he’s never been sure if he likes being that open and honest with his work.

Jubilee makes it different though. The amount of trust she has in him has always surprised him. Even after he let her down when they were younger, she’s always trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, to let him protect her. And she makes him vulnerable too.

“Jubilee.” He doesn’t look at her as he speaks, gaze locked on the delicate curve of her neck etched into his sketchbook. “Thanks for doing this. You’re a good friend.” He doesn’t catch the way she stiffens as he talks, or the way her breathing hitches. “You know,” he chuckles, not thinking as the words tumble out of his mouth, “I’m really glad Fangs said no when I went to ask him to model for me this morning. You’re a hell of a lot prettier than him.”

The grin on his face disappears as soon as he glances up at her. Jubilee has gone still, her entire body tense. The small smile that’s been tugging at her lips since they started is gone, but that’s not what makes him freeze. It’s the raw, open hurt that flickers in her eyes for a just a second.

“So that’s why you practically ran out of here this morning.” A breathless, bitter laugh escapes Jubilee. “You were asking Fangs to—” She shakes her head before breaking her position and sitting up. “God, I’m an idiot.” She doesn’t look at him as she stands from the couch. “Shit.”

Sweet Pea watches in confusion as she scoops up her clothes off the floor. He sets his pencil down and stands from the stool slowly. “Jubilee, what do you—”

“You know what?” she cuts him off, still not looking at him as she shimmies her panties up over her hips, shying away from him. “I’m done. I’m done. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.” Jubilee laughs again and this time it’s watery, the sound sticking in her throat. She yanks his flannel over her head, leaving it half-unbuttoned and grabbing for her discarded jeans. “I’ve been throwing myself at you all fucking week, Sweet Pea, and clearly you aren’t interested, so I think I need to leave.” She buttons her jeans, leaving her shirt on the couch with her bra and scooping up her things. “Sorry about your project, but apparently you already asked Fangs to be your back up, so you’ll be fine.”

The amount of venom in her words makes him flinch, and he can only stand there dumbfounded as she grabs her phone off the coffee table. “You’ve what?” he finally manages to ask once the words register. She’s been throwing herself at him? “Jubilee, wait!”

She ignores his question, but turns around to look at him as he steps around the easel towards her. That raw hurt stops him again and he can’t breathe. For a second she doesn’t say anything, just stares at him in utter defeat.

“You know, when you asked me to do this I thought maybe you finally figured it out,” she says, barely above a whisper. A sound caught halfway between a sigh and a laugh slips from her and she shakes her head. “Maybe you wanted me just as bad as I want you, because why else do you ask one of your best friends to strip down for a nude portrait? But then you make out with some random girl at a party and I kiss you and you practically run out of here the next morning.”

It hits him in the stomach, the realization that she remembers last night—that she meant to kiss him.

Jubilee waits for him to say something, anything, but Sweet Pea only stares at her, unable to move as he tries to wrap his head around all of it. It takes him a second too long to realize he’s fucked up and by then Jubilee is already turning away from him again.

“Lydia was right,” she murmurs, so low he almost doesn’t hear, “this was a mistake.”

She grabs her book off the coffee table.

He reaches for her instinctively, his fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her from storming off. “Jubilee—”

“Don’t!” she snaps as the book falls to the floor. His hand drops immediately. An apology flickers in her glossy eyes and his heart squeezes in his chest. “Sweet Pea, just don’t,” she repeats, softer this time. “It’s fine, I get it. It’s not… I’m not mad, I just can’t be here right now, okay?” Jubilee tries to smile for him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

She leaves the book on the floor and turns away from him.

Sweet Pea stares after her, unable to move as Jubilee shoves her phone into her pocket and heads towards the door.

She’s been throwing herself at him? Blood roars in his ears and his mouth moves but no sound escapes him. It hits him again that everything she did last night was on purpose. Asking him to zip up her dress. Kissing him like that. What else has he missed this week? Or even before that? How did he not notice it?

Or maybe he did notice and chose to ignore it.

“You’re wrong,” he calls after her, desperation seizing him as she grabs her bag and shoes off the floor and reaches for the front door. Jubilee hesitates, her hand hovering over the knob. Sweet Pea takes a step after her, his throat tight. “About me not being interested.”

Jubilee’s head snaps around. Her hand slowly drops back to her side as she looks at Sweet Pea, expression guarded and her brows narrowed in confusion. Jubilee’s lips part, but she doesn’t say anything as he takes another step towards her. She turns to face him hesitantly, and he stops in the middle of the living room, his stomach flipping sickly as she stares at him with wide eyes.

The shoes slip from Jubilee’s hands and fall with a clatter onto the floor, loud in the suddenly quiet room. She wets her lips, eyes leaving his for a second before snapping back to him. Her mouth moves wordlessly. “You never said anything,” she finally chokes out, letting her bag fall to the floor.

A breathy laugh escapes him. “Neither did you,” Sweet Pea jokes, the ache in his chest lessening when she steps away from the door. Jubilee crosses the small space between them until there’s hardly any left and his fingers twitch with the need to touch her.

She stops just in front of him, looking small and vulnerable in the flannel that practically swallows her whole. She has to crane her head back to meet his eyes, her head barely coming up to his shoulder. “Sweets,” Jubilee whispers.

“Fuck, Jubilee,” he takes a shuddery breath, “if I’d known you—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Jubilee surges up onto her toes and fists a hand in his shirt. She drags him down to her, cutting him off with a rough, messy kiss that he melts into easily. Sweet Pea’s hands settle onto her hips instinctively, one palm sliding around to her back and holding her loosely against his chest. His heart thumps erratically and he’s lost in the feel of her pressed loosely again his chest and the light scent of her perfume. The kiss becomes slow and coaxing, so much like the one from last night, and Sweet Pea sinks into it as her hands slide up his chest, her fingers tickling the sides of his neck as he sighs.

Jubilee pulls away from him slowly, lingering there as she drops back to her feet.

Sweet Pea’s palm presses firmly against her lower back and Jubilee shivers as the heat of his hand sinks into her skin through her haphazardly buttoned shirt. An absentminded finger traces the curved lines inked into the side of his neck and Sweet Pea shivers as he leans into Jubilee. Her breath fans across his lips and he drags his hand up her back, the tips of his fingers tracing the length of her spine.

“Why did you ask me to do this?” Jubilee asks him after a tense minute, her eyes searching his desperately for some answer. Gently, she cups his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking back and forth across his cheeks. Her exhales are shaky against him and she’s so close that Sweet Pea can hear the hitch in her breathing when he cradles the back of her neck with one hand. “Sweets?”

He opens his mouth to answer her, but no words leave him. He already knows why he asked her earlier this week. She was the first person he thought about when Kandinsky told them about the assignment. Jubilee’s always been beautiful, he’d be a fool not to notice that; but that’s not the reason he asked.

She means everything to him.

Instead of responding, Sweet Pea dips his chin and catches her in another slow, sweet kiss. His fingers wind through her dark hair as Jubilee tilts her head back and arches into his chest until there’s no space left between them. Her arms wind around the back of his neck tightly, dragging him down close, and a groan rumbles in his throat as her lips suddenly move against his in a way that’s almost bruising.

Sweet Pea kisses her back just as frantically, just like he did last night, only it’s different now. They’re both sober and he wants her just as badly as he has since they were in high school. And she doesn’t stop him.

Jubilee leaves fire in her wake as her fingers fist at his hair. She relaxes into his touch as his grip tightens around her hip. And Sweet Pea drinks in the taste of her, sweet and thick on his tongue, like honey and raspberries. Her perfume tickles at his senses in a hazy cloud and when her nails drag down the sides of his neck he shivers against her. Heat curls in his gut.

It’s sweet, but it’s not what either of them want.

A keening gasp escapes Jubilee as his tongue traces the seam of her lips. She surges up onto her toes again to kiss him harder, and Sweet Pea moans as she pulls his hair roughly. Jubilee nips at him, catching his lower lip between her teeth and biting down before releasing him again.

Jubilee shoves him. A grunt tears from his chest as he stumbles back against the couch, his knee knocking against the arm. But Jubilee doesn’t disappear for long. Her mouth is back on his again a moment later and she urges him down against the cushions. As soon as he drops back she crawls on top of him and straddles his lap.

Sweet Pea grins against her as she settles on top of him, her hands on his shoulders to hold her steady as her balance shifts. His hands drop down to her hips, squeezing roughly before snaking higher on her torso to trace the soft strip of skin that was peeking out beneath her shirt earlier. She sighs in response to his touch and idly he wonders if she would make the same noise if it was his mouth on her.

His moan rumbles against her lips as her hips roll against his. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Sweet Pea mumbles, pulling back just enough to look at her. Jubilee’s fingers bite into his shoulders as his big hands grasp her hips again, squeezing roughly as he grinds her down against his hardening cock again. He swallows her gasp and bites her lip. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jubilee murmurs. Her lips drag across his cheek to his jaw, where she starts peppering feverish kisses.

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty in the quiet room. Instead of answering, he grabs her chin, bringing her mouth back to his for another rough kiss. Jubilee melts into him, her arms wrapping loosely around the back of his neck. Every inch of her is pressed up against his torso, and he could stay like that forever if it was what she wanted. But her head tilts for a better angle and her fingers run through his hair as her hips roll against his in a steady rhythm.

Sweet Pea’s mouth tears away from hers with a lewd, wet sound, but he doesn’t stray from her for long. His lips meet her skin once more, hot wet kisses trailing over her jaw and down her neck without warning. Jubilee gasps as his lips wander across her soft skin, following the same path as last night. She squirms against him as he roughly bites and sucks at her pulse point, his lips lazily trailing down the column of her throat as he noses at her. His teeth gently scrape down her neck and her thighs lock around his hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Jubilee gasps as he peruses her neck. She tilts her head up to give him better access. “Sweet Pea,” she pants against his ear, her fingers twitching against the back of his neck. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw, and her hips rock against his, desperate for some kind of friction as an ache builds in her stomach.

The sound of his name on her lips and the whimpers slipping from her mouth makes something hot flood through his veins. When she chokes out his name again, Sweet Pea bites down on her neck roughly. She yelps, but the stuttering sound becomes a breathy moan as he soothes the spot with a slow lick. Sweet Pea blows against her wet skin and she shivers, hips stuttering against his.

Swearing, Sweet Pea’s mouth latches onto her again. He pays particular attention to that sensitive spot on her neck, drawing her blood to the surface. Jubilee lets him work a bruise onto her skin and squirms when his mouth moves lower, peppering smaller hickeys down the length of her neck down to her collarbones and the exposed swell of her breast.

Jubilee brings his lips back to hers before he can linger on her chest and Sweet Pea shifts uncomfortably beneath her, painfully hard in his jeans as her core continues to grind against his. Her hips circle against his slowly and her hands cradle his jaw as she kisses him deeply. Sweet Pea’s hands slide up her back and he wraps one arm firmly around her back as his right hand finds the back of her neck again, holding her head loosely in place.

The urgency slowly drains from them, and Sweet Pea lets her rock above him lazily, content with whatever she’s willing to give him.

Her hands drift from his face down to his shoulders and his chest, and Jubilee sighs as her hands slip beneath the open fabric of his flannel. She begins to shove his shirt aside and Sweet Pea reluctantly breaks his hold on her as the flannel catches on his elbows. He shrugs out of it and throws the flannel aside.

Jubilee’s hands slide down his arms appreciatively and he grins against her mouth.

“Please,” she murmurs, muffled by a needy kiss.

Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck and his free hand slips beneath her shirt, teasing the skin just above her jeans. “What do you want, Doll?” He doesn’t want to push her.

Jubilee quells his hesitation with a series of slow kisses. “You,” she breathes between brushes of their lips.

The easy answer makes his heart squeeze in his chest. A surge of affection and lust rips through him. “Shit.” His hands latch onto her hips as he jerks beneath her. “I don’t have a condom,” he mumbles, swearing when she rolls against him. He didn’t think he’d be needing one anytime soon.

A breathy laugh slips from her. “Back pocket,” she tells him before kissing him again.

Sweet Pea’s brows knit together in confusion before his hands slide down, groping at her ass and grinding her down against him. She moans into his mouth as his fingers dip into the back pocket of her jeans and squeeze. The foil package crinkles beneath his fingers and he pulls away from her to chuckle. “Did you plan on seducing me, Jubilee?”

Her hips jerk against his when he pinches her ass and fishes the condom out of her pocket, slipping it into his own. “I’ve been trying to all week, thanks for noticing.”

Shaking his head, Sweet Pea’s hands slide around to the front of her jeans. He pops the button on them and Jubilee’s breath catches. “Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs, “do you know how hard it was not to pin you to the couch and make you beg for it?” Jubilee squirms over his lap and wriggles out of her pants, kicking them to the floor.

She whimpers when his hands squeeze her ass again, his touch hotter without the extra layer of clothing between them. Jubilee wets her lips. “I think I have an idea.”

Her fingers ghost over his hips before grasping his arousal through his jeans and palming him roughly. Sweet Pea groans and his head drops against the back of the couch. Jubilee takes the opportunity to latch her mouth onto his exposed throat, nipping and sucking at his skin like he did to her, leaving faint marks in her wake. His breathing becomes ragged as he presses into her hand.

Jubilee presses butterfly kisses over his pounding pulse as she pops the button on his jeans and works her hand beneath his pants and underwear. Her soft fingers wrap around his cock and Sweet Pea grunts. “Shit, Sweets,” she murmurs against his neck, tracing the length of him with her hand. His eyes slip shut as she strokes him slowly, fingers squeezing around him until his hips stutter beneath her.

“Fuck. Jubilee,” he chokes out, hissing through his teeth when her thumb circles the head of his cock. Her lips move up to jaw and chin until she reaches the corner of his mouth, where she presses a surprisingly sweet kiss.

Sweet Pea reluctantly pulls her hand out of his pants and ignores the questioning look she sends him. She opens her mouth, but whatever she was planning to say is cut off by her gasp when his hands grab her ass. Sweet Pea stands suddenly, surprising her, and he chuckles when Jubilee clings to his shoulders. Her long legs wrap around his waist as he shifts his grip on her and pushes away from the couch.

Her mouth covers his again and he stumbles blindly around the furniture in the room until he finds the nearest surface.

Jubilee yelps as he shoves her back against the closest wall, his mouth immediately swallowing her appreciative moan as her legs squeeze around his hips. She hits the wall with a bang that he hopes his neighbors don’t hear, but Jubilee doesn’t seem to care as she coils around him. His grip on her thighs is bruising, but she only keens at the rough treatment, arching into his chest as her fingers tangle in his hair, her lips moving against his.

Her legs squeeze around his hips as he settles against her, mouth meeting hers in a fiery kiss. He forces her head back against the wall, enjoying the way she squirms against him, fingers pulling at him tighter as she rolls her hips against his again, no space left between them. Her thighs quake around him when he grinds against her, a soft, fluttery sigh leaving Jubilee. The breathy sound makes him shiver, his fingers sliding high on her legs until he’s flirting with the hem of her underwear. The lace tickles at his skin and she squirms as his fingers dip beneath the fabric teasingly.

Jubilee’s fingers ghost down the sides of his neck, the teasing touch making Sweet Pea’s hips snap against hers. She pulls back to murmur his name against his lips, and Sweet Pea’s heart seizes. Warmth blooms in his chest as she traces the shape of his jaw with a delicate finger.

For a minute they stay like that: Jubilee pinned between him and the wall, her touch soft and sweet as the tips of her fingers draw shapes down the sides of his neck, their lips brushing and their exhales mingling because they’re so close.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs absentmindedly. Jubilee’s breathing hitches and her eyes widen a fraction, her pupils blown wide with arousal. This time, Sweet Pea is the one to close the small distance between them, and when Jubilee sighs he relaxes into her. His thumb strokes her skin, sweeping back and forth across her thigh lazily.

Her hands slide into his hair and Sweep Pea pushes away from the wall. Jubilee’s legs tighten around his waist when she becomes airborne, but he keeps his hands firmly on her thighs to make sure she doesn’t slip. He feels his way through the apartment carefully, so wrapped up in Jubilee that he’s hardly paying attention. It’s easier than it was last night, with the sun still shining in through the open curtains, the sun only just beginning to set.

Sweet Pea drops her down carefully onto the end of his bed, hovering over her for a second and kisses her once more before pulling away just long enough to tear his undershirt over his head and toss it on the floor. Jubilee’s gaze rakes over his bare chest appreciatively and Sweet Pea can’t help the grin that pulls at his mouth, his dark eyes glimmering in amusement.

“Like what you see, Doll?” he jokes, standing in front of her with kiss swollen lips and messy hair from her fingers pulling at him. Faint hickeys are peppered across his neck and his jeans are slung low on his hips, unbuttoned and unzipped.

Jubilee is equally rumpled, wearing nothing but those white, lacy panties and the green flannel she was wearing this morning. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath and deep red and purple love bites are scattered from the underside of her jaw down to her collarbone. Her flannel is half-hanging from her shoulder and revealing the enticing curve of her breast. He tried not to stare at her before, but now he can barely tear his eyes away.

Jubilee isn’t as patient. She huffs, reaching out for him with both hands. “Get over here.” He chuckles as she wiggles her fingers expectantly, but does as she asks. Sweet Pea lets her drag him down to the bed and she giggles as he crawls on top of her. Jubilee tries to wrap her arms around his neck but he gathers both of her hands in his before she can, pinning them to the mattress on either side of her head.

He kisses her again before she can complain and links their fingers together gently. She squeezes their interlinked hands before slipping her fingers away from his. Her palms press flat against his back, dragging across his skin slowly and making them both sigh.

Sweet Pea braces one arm against the bed, keeping his weight off her as he slips one hand between her legs. Jubilee gasps into his mouth when his fingers drag along the inside of her thigh. Goosebumps rise on her skin as his fingers trail higher, Sweet Pea testing the waters.

He releases her mouth, kissing her cheek briefly before his mouth moves lower. Jubilee arches into him, pressing her hips closer to his hand encouragingly. Two of his fingers drag along the front of her damp underwear and her hips jump as his fingers brush against her clit through the thin fabric.

“Sweets,” she gasps against his ear, opening her legs wider as his fingers continue to tease her. Her fingers dig into his shoulders as his mouth moves down her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. Her nails drag down his back suddenly and he grunts into the side of her neck. Sweet Pea dips a finger beneath the strip of fabric separating their skin and she gasps. Jubilee’s eyes flutter shut as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. “Please.”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs back to her, breath fanning across the hollow of her throat. He’s still painfully hard against her thigh, but he ignores it, taking a slow breath. Sweet Pea removes his fingers from beneath her panties and rises on his elbows enough to look her in the eyes. He needs to be sure this is what she wants, that everything isn’t happening too fast. “Jubilee, if you don’t want—”

“I want you, Sweet Pea,” she says, cutting him off gently. Her hands leave his back to grasp his face, and Jubilee brings him up to meet her in a slow, reassuring kiss.

Sweet Pea sinks into the kiss for a long moment before finally pulling back. He returns to her collarbone, working another hickey onto her skin as he slips his hand back between them, this time finding the buttons on her flannel. He pops each one open slowly, perusing each new inch of skin revealed to his greedy mouth. Jubilee’s chest heaves beneath him and a stuttering gasp slips from her mouth as his fingers find the last button.

He sits up again to look at her and Jubilee shrugs the shirt aside. The dark green fabric slips from her arms slowly and for a second he can’t breathe. Despite the fact that she stripped in front of him and he spent over two hours working on a nude sketch of her, it hits him in this moment how much she trusts him.

Jubilee watches him as his eyes drag down her frame like a physical touch, taking in every inch of her skin in a way he didn’t before. There’s a splash of color on her ribcage that catches his attention, just behind her left breast, almost on her back. His heart aches when he sees the small, delicate petals of a flower he recognizes. The blue and purple watercolor tattoo is still as beautiful as the first time he saw it.

“I remember when you got this.” His fingers trace the shape of the tattoo and she shivers beneath him.

Jubilee relaxes beneath him. “The day before we left Riverdale.” A heavy sigh escapes her, and Jubilee’s ribcage moves beneath his hand. He strokes his thumb across the tattoo one more time before sliding his hand higher to cup her breast. She inhales sharply, arching into him when his thumb brushes against her nipple. “Micah did a good job.”

Humming in agreement, Sweet Pea leans down to press his lips back to her collarbone. He works his way lower, lips wandering down her chest lazily. She’s vocal but quiet as his tongue and teeth graze her skin, little gasps and coos slipping from her mouth.

He grins against her when she hooks a leg over his hip, trying to pull him down to her. A frustrated sigh escapes her when he doesn’t budge, content to peruse her chest and drag more soft sounds from her. He could get high off the sounds she makes.

“Sweets,” she huffs, leg squeezing around him as he kisses across her left breast. Her fingers thread through his hair as his teeth graze her skin again, and she squirms when he nips at her, leaving a trail of faint red marks across her skin. As she presses her heel into his back, Sweet Pea’s hand slides down her side and back between her legs. His tongue swirls around her nipple and her gasps rise in pitch as he takes it into his mouth.

Sweet Pea rolls her nipple between his teeth as his fingers slip back beneath her underwear. His digits trace her opening and he groans when he feels just how wet she already is. Jubilee keens, hips rocking up against his hand as his thumb bushes against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses against his ear. “Please.”

“I know,” he murmurs against her breast, the vibration from his mouth making her leg squeeze around him tighter. “Shit, Doll, you’re so wet.” Sweet Pea groans against her as two of his fingers sink into her easily, long and thick. Her head drops back against the mattress and her eyes squeeze shut as his digits drag roughly along her walls.

She arches into his mouth and hands. “Fuck, Sweet Pea.” He groans against her breast, curling his fingers and searching for the spot inside her that’ll make her gasp. Her walls cling to his retreating fingers, sucking him in deeper as his thumb rubs slow, teasing circles against her clit. Sweet Pea moves his attention to one of the hickeys on her breast, deepening the bruise.

Slowly, he works his way down her stomach, kissing a path down her quivering stomach. His nose brushes against her teasingly, and she squeals when his tongue dips into her bellybutton. Jubilee shoves his shoulder and he chuckles. His hands are hot against her skin as he gripes one of her thighs, holding her in place as he his fingers continue to thrust into her slowly. The soft sounds and sighs of his name slipping from her kiss-swollen lips make his heart swell with pure joy.

Jubilee inhales sharply when he slides off the end of the bed and drops to his knees, draping her knee over his shoulder. She sits up on her elbows and he locks eyes with her as he turns to press an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of her thigh. The shaky sigh that slips from her only encourages him. Sweet Pea pulls his fingers from her core and Jubilee whines at the loss of his touch. His fingers hook around the hem of her panties. Sweet Pea holds her gaze as he tugs them down her hips, Jubilee shifting to help him kick the scrap of fabric aside. Her bare leg dangles down his back and she presses her heel into his back to draw him closer.

Sweet Pea kisses across the inside of her thigh, working his way to her center as his fingers creep back to her opening.

Jubilee shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “Really? You’d rather eat me out than fuck me senseless?” His fingers slip back inside her and the heat of his breath makes her toes curl against his back. Sweet Pea keeps a firm grip on her thigh and holds her gaze as his tongue flicks out against her clit. “Fuck,” she hisses. Her hips jerk, but he holds her firmly against the mattress.

“I can do both,” he reminds her before leaning back in and covering her clit with his mouth. She practically sobs as he starts to suck on the bundle of nerves, dragging her right up to the edge. The extended foreplay has left them both achingly sensitive and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get her off at least twice tonight. “You gonna cum for me, Doll?” he teases, pulling away from her heat to glance up at her.

She drops back onto the mattress and grinds against his hand with a needy sound. “Sweets, please, just—” She cries out as he sucks on her clit at the same time his fingers curl inside her.

Jubilee cums hard, moaning his name as her hips jerk and her entire body trembles beneath his touch. Her walls squeeze around his fingers and he pulls his mouth away from her to watch her face twist with pleasure. His  thumb replaces his tongue on her clit and his fingers slow, but he doesn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she’s boneless beneath him, the sensations too much.

Sweet Pea removes his fingers as she comes down from her high. He rises from the floor and crawls back up her torso slowly, the tips of his fingers trailing up the outside of her thigh. Another gentle sigh slips from Jubilee as he presses butterfly kisses up her stomach and between her breasts. She reaches for him as his lips find her neck. Humming, he peppers kisses up to her jaw and across her cheek, letting her catch her breath. Jubilee’s hands grasp his shoulders like she needs something to ground her, like she might float away from him if he lets her go. And then her hands slip into his hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes before she pulls him into a kiss so sweet that his chest floods with warmth.

For a minute he just holds her like that, kissing her slowly as her fingers caress the sides of his face. But he’s hard and hot and it almost hurts when he presses against her thigh. A groan tears from his throat when she rocks her hips against his. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against hers.

Jubilee exhales shakily as he grinds against her thigh to relieve some of the pressure. “Jesus Christ, Sweets,” she murmurs as she feels the full length of him pressing against her.

He hums. “I know, Baby.”

A grin pulls at her lips. Jubilee drags her palms down his neck to his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his stomach teasingly all the way down to the front of his jeans. Sweet Pea moans her name as her hand slips beneath his pants. She wraps her fingers around him and his hips jerk into her hand. The grunt that slips from him when she begins stroking him slowly is almost embarrassing and she lowers her mouth to his chin, kissing him gently.

He stares down at her with hooded eyes when her mouth leaves him. Sweet Pea braces his forearms on either side of her head, shifting his weight off of her as she continues to stroke his cock slowly. He thrusts into her fist and swears under his breath as she thumbs at the head. Jubilee’s fingers circle around the sensitive tip, smearing the drops of pre-cum leaking out.

Abruptly, she releases him, and groans at the lack of contact. Her head tilts back as she kisses his chin again, and she grins at him when he forces his eyes open again. Jubilee hooks her fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them away from his skin before letting them snap back against him.

“Take these off,” she murmurs, needy hips rocking up against him. Sweet Pea hisses through his teeth as she grinds against the front of his jeans. Her hands slip around his back and into his pocket, where she fishes out the condom from earlier.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, swallowing back a moan when her hips circle against his slowly. It takes him a second to disentangle himself from Jubilee. He rises from the bed just long enough to kick off the last layers of his clothing before returning to the bed.  

She giggles as she backs up, climbing up the bed, and he follows close after her.

Sweet Pea kisses her again, guiding her to lie back against the sheets as he slips between her thighs, and her fingers drag down his stomach again in response. His hips press against hers, his cock sliding between her wet folds and making them both groan at the contact. He grinds against her again, nudging her legs open wider, and swears loudly when she reaches between them to stroke him slowly and watch the way his jaw clenches at the pleasure that ripples through him in a wave.

She releases him long enough to rip open the foil package of the condom and he hisses through his teeth as she rolls it onto his shaft. He rocks his hips against hers slowly, running his cock over her slit, and Jubilee’s hands grasp at his upper arms, her fingers biting into his skin as he lines himself up with her entrance.

Jubilee hisses as he sinks into her, his cock stretching her from the inside. Sweet Pea slips into her easily, she’s so wet, and she shivers at the fullness, an ache already forming between her legs again. He’s big and hard and hot inside her, and when he shifts his hips she whimpers as his cock rubs against something wonderful inside her. “Oh, fuck, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs, biting her lip as his hips grind against her.

His responding chuckle turns into a moan when her walls squeeze around him, sucking him in deeper as her hips roll up against his, urging him to move. But he just rests there for a second, trying not to cum already, but between the foreplay and how warm and wet she is inside he’s already closer than he’d like to be.

Gently, he presses his lips against the side of her neck, kissing her there as he tries to control his breathing. Her pulse flutters beneath his lips and she pants, a light sheen of sweat making her skin slick against his.

Just as she starts to grow impatient, beginning to squirm beneath him, Sweet Pea moves, picking up a fast pace that makes her moan. His hips grind against hers purposefully, the friction on her clit making her toes curl into the sheets as she grits her teeth.

“That’s it, Doll,” Sweet Pea mutters, only half-aware of the nonsense falling from his mouth, curses and praises as she meets his thrusts. “Just like that.” His cock hits a spot deep inside her and her hips stutter against his, but he doesn’t stop talking as his hips move against hers roughly. “You’re so fucking incredible.” Her walls squeeze around him tightly.

A whine catches in her throat as he starts to thrust into her harder and faster. Her fingers squeeze his arms and her hands flutter over his skin like she isn’t sure where to grab him before she settles on his face and drags him down into a bruising kiss, her hips still rising to meet his.

“Come on, Jubilee,” he says when she releases him to breathe. His mouth immediately moves to her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin. She trembles beneath him, coil wound tight in her stomach as they continue to grind against each other. Her thighs twitch around his hips and she swears when his hand skims down her thigh.

She’s close, teetering on the edge, but it’s not enough.

Her arms wrap around him, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades as she holds him to her. “Sweet Pea, please,” she gasps, “I can’t—”

“I know.” He brushes her hair away from her neck before his teeth latch onto a dark hickey just below her jaw and he nips at her roughly. His hand finds her hip, pinning her in place as he sits up slightly on his knees. The angle makes her gasp and his lips drag down her sensitive neck. His hand slides from her hip down between them. “Just let go,” he tells her. “I’ve got you.”

Big fingers rub tight circles over her engorged clit and she cums again, choking on his name and arching into his chest. Her nails dig into his back and her hips jerk against his as her orgasm crashes over her. He fucks her through it. Slows his thrusts as she twitches, walls squeezing around him.

The strings pulling her taut suddenly release. Jubilee drops back onto the mattress, chest heaving and dazed from her orgasm. Her arms drop onto the bed on either side of her head, fisting in the sheets as his hips continue to roll against hers. The continued stimulation makes her twitch.

Sweet Pea kisses her, swallowing the little sounds spilling from her mouth. One of his hands finds hers and he pries her fingers out of the bed sheets to link their hands together, grounding them. He manages to hook his shoulder beneath one of her knees, forcing her open wider and making her hips shift, allowing him to reach deeper inside her.

She doesn’t have time to breathe as he starts fucking her senseless like she wanted, his cock pounding into her. He leaves her boneless and breathless, Jubilee taking each thrust against her sensitive core as whimpers and gasps spill from her mouth. The sounds she makes only spur him on and his hips grind against hers just right, cock continuously hitting a spot that makes her legs tremble as he fucks her into the mattress, chasing his own high as she teeters just on the edge.

He forces his eyes open, locking them on her and watching as her face twists in pleasure. She looks tiny beneath him, his frame caging her in and holding her open, and he fucks her harder.

“I love you,” he tells her, barely aware of what he’s saying, but she hears him. Her breath catches and her heart skips, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Fuck. I love you.” His fingers squeeze around hers and his pace is relentless as she rocks against him. Sweat slides down his neck. He pants, tensing as anticipation grows in his stomach. His heart pounds erratically and he shudders above Jubilee, their breaths mingling as his forehead presses against hers.

She cums again when his thumb brushes against her clit, the stimulation from his fingers and his cock too much, but he doesn’t stop pounding into her. His fingers move against her clit roughly, dragging out her orgasm until she’s trembling and moaning beneath him.

Jubilee’s fingernails dig into the back of his hand and she whispers his name and everything falls into place.

His hips snap against hers and the pressure building in his gut releases. His cock twitches as he pushes into her roughly and his throaty moan is loud in the room as he spills himself into the condom.

Jubilee’s arms wrap around him as he pulls out of her, and her lips find his in the darkness that blankets the room.

Sweet Pea wakes up before her the next morning.

The sun is just starting to rise, light bleeding in through the windows lining the wall, the curtains left open during their frenzy the night before. He groans at the sunlight spilling in and buries his face against her hair, his grip tightens around Jubilee and she sighs in her sleep before curling closer to his chest. Her legs wind through his beneath the blankets and her unruly hair tickles at his bare chest when she nuzzles into his frame, chasing his warmth as his fingers idly stroke the length of her spine.

For a moment he just lies there, hazy and warm with his arms locked around Jubilee, content for the first time in days.

But the light is irritating and his bladder is full and as much as he wants to stay in that moment forever, he knows he can’t. It’s hard, breaking his grip on her and sliding from the bed without disturbing her, but Jubilee only sighs at the loss of heat. Her nose scrunches up before she rolls onto her stomach and Sweet Pea chuckles. His fingers linger against her cheek as he brushes her hair away from her face.

He cleans up around the apartment while she sleeps, gathering their scattered clothing and slipping on a pair of clean boxers. He has a series of messages from the guys asking how the night went. Most are earnest, but Fangs has been sending him strings of eggplant emojis again. He answers them all vaguely before leaving his phone on the counter. Sweet Pea finds her phone shoved into her jeans by the couch and sees a few encouraging texts from Lydia and Toni that make him grin.

Jubilee is still sleeping when he finally returns to that corner of the room and for a second he just stares at her. She’s kicked away most of the blankets, leaving them low on her hips, and her arms are folded under her head. Her right arm is stretched out over the mattress, her fingers curled loosely, and her left is tucked under her cheek, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her hair is a mess around her and her back rises and falls with her breaths. From where he’s standing he can just see the curve of her breast against the mattress and the red and purple marks decorating her neck.

What really stops him is the tattoo on her side, the one she tries to keep covered up. She looks small and soft and vulnerable lying there with the sunlight spilling in around her and casting gentle shadows.

He doesn’t really think as grabs his sketchbook and stool from the living room or flips the page from the drawing of her from last night, finding a fresh one. There’s no hesitation this time as he puts her down on paper, and Jubilee doesn’t move the entire time he’s working, like somehow she already knows what he’s doing.

And Sweet Pea draws it all. The tattoo. The hickeys. Her relaxed expression. Hours pass without him realizing it.

He’s just finish the details of her tattoo when she sighs. Sweet Pea’s eyes snap to her face and a smile immediately pulls at his lips when she blinks at him sleepily. Sweet Pea sets his sketchbook aside, closing it as he stands and crosses the short distance to her.

“What time is it?” Jubilee murmurs as his knee sinks into the mattress beside her. Her eyes flutter shut when he brushes her hair away from her face.

Sweet Pea presses his lips to her temple, leaning over her. “Early,” he tells her. He’s not sure what the time is anymore, but after the weekend they’ve had she deserves to sleep in for a while. “Go back to bed, Doll.”

Jubilee rolls onto her back beneath him, and his chest squeezes as she looks at him, her eyes searching his. His fingers brush against her waist above the edge of the blanket and she lifts her hand to the side of his neck. The tips of her fingers brush against the double-headed snake on his neck.

She’s quiet for a while. “Last night you said you love me,” Jubilee says suddenly. He stills above her, mouth dry and throat tight, but she doesn’t wait for a response. Her hand shifts to cradle his cheek and her thumb brushes against his bottom lip. “I love you too.” His lip trembles. “You know that right?”

“Jubilee,” is the only thing he manages to choke out. His heart pounds in his chest and his fingers twitch where they’re resting above her hip.

“I love you, Sweet Pea,” she repeats. There’s a nervous glint in her honey eyes as they continue to search his, but it’s the heartbreaking honestly that steals his breath. Jubilee takes a shuddery breath and her eyes leave his, flickering between his face and somewhere over his shoulder, like she isn’t sure where to look. “And if you didn’t mean it—” She shakes her head, eyes glossy.

“Jubilee,” he says again, but she still won’t look at him. He slips a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to look at him. The doubt that flickers across her face makes the pleasant warmth in his stomach turn to ice and he feels sick suddenly. “Hey, look at me.”

She swallows thickly. “Back in high school, I thought—but after the Ghoulies—” She trails off briefly, more hesitant than she was last night.

He goes still. She’s speaking in half sentences, but he understands. Before that night they were so close to something. Ever since she came home the beginning of sophomore year they’d been right on the edge of something. Sweet Pea doesn’t know if he loved her then or if it came after, the guilt and the anger overshadowed everything. Things have changed so much since that night. They changed. Riverdale changed. But the way he feels about her is the one constant in his life. No matter how hard he tries to shove it down it always comes back.

He’s quiet for too long.

Jubilee exhales shakily. Her hands withdraw from him. “You never said anything. You don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about it,” she stresses. “And if I did something—”

“No,” he cuts her off immediately. Sweet Pea cradles her cheek and tilts her head so that she’s looking right at him. “Fuck, Baby, no,” he repeats, thumb sweeping across her skin. “It was never you, okay? Never.” He sighs and strokes her cheek again before letting her go. “It was my fault, not yours.”

Her brow furrows in confusion that quickly melts into realization. “Oh, Sweet Pea,” she murmurs. Gently, he pulls away from her, sitting up on the bed. Jubilee follows him, drawing the sheets up to her chest. “I never blamed you.” Her small hand slides from his elbow to his shoulder.

“I know, Baby.” He looks at the sketchbook sitting beside the bed.

“Do you?” She squeezes his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head. “I was supposed to protect you,” he reminds her. “When you came home I promised your dad I’d—and you got hurt.” It comes out softer than it’s meant to, his throat tight as the words choke off.

“So did you,” she reminds him, tracing one of the scars on his back. Sighing, she shifts on the bed. “Sweet Pea, look at me.” Jubilee doesn’t give him a choice. She tosses one leg over his, straddling his hips and forcing him to look at her when she grabs his face in both of her hands. Her expression is firm now, eyes alight with something fiery. “I’m right here,” she tells him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She doesn’t say it, but he hears it anyway. She almost lost him too. He was so angry after that night, self-destructive. They both got hurt that night. The Ghoulies left them broken in so many ways, and he’s tired of letting that control him.

He can’t help it when he relaxes into her, his big hands covering her hips and holding her steady. “I know.” His hand moves to the tattoo just behind her breast. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

She smothers his apology with her lips, kissing him firmly. He responds automatically, pulling her closer as her mouth moves against his slowly, pointedly, just like she kissed him last night. He was apologizing then too.

Jubilee pulls away from him quicker than he would have liked. She shivers when his thumb strokes across the flowers blooming on her side. “Are you going to kiss me every time I apologize?”

“Only when you’re being a dumbass,” she jokes, running her hands through his hair and brushing it away from his eyes. He chuckles and she leans in to press another chaste kiss to his mouth, smothering the sound.

Sweet Pea shakes his head as she drapes her arms around his neck. His arm locks around her waist as he stares at her and she sighs when his fingers start tracing nonsense shapes across her back. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs, drawing her in for another kiss. It lingers this time and he drowns in the taste of her. She pulls away from him slowly, playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she tells him. “Tired. Good.” His fingers knead her lower back and her lips brush against his again. “Really good.”

“Yeah? Good.” Jubilee giggles as he leans in to kiss her properly.

It’s later, when they’re lying down and wrapped around each other quietly in the silent apartment, with Sweet Pea’s hands tracing shapes on her back while hers rests over his heavily beating heart, that she asks, “Why’d you draw a new one?”

It takes him a second to realize she means the drawings of her. He glances over at his sketchbook. It’s shut, but he stared at each of them long enough to pull them both from memory. Sweet Pea brushes her hair away from her neck. “It just felt right.”

#riverdale #sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea imagine #serpentcentral #sweet pea fic #oc: jubilee jones #fic: focal point #fic: art school #swubilee

[0rdis]

actually wrote something sfw about my fl oc. written in the pov of Lady in Lilac. 

spoilers for seeking, kinda. Goes up to the Knock but is very much a huge au so its... very not canon. And very very vague.

[ao3 link]

The first time you meet him, his eyes are peligin. 

He wanders into your shop on legs fresh off the zee. He's seen something out there and you set out vials of dark ink. It's hard not to have heard the rumors about him, as close as you are to the Bazaar.

"I hear you can do tattoos in the Neathbow?" Asks the Monster-Hunter and his tongue keeps running over his teeth. There's no blood on them but you know that's what he's looking for. He's hungry in a way you know.

"I do. They call you the Fist of the Bazaar, correct?" It's an impressive title. The Masters overlook his hunger because he's willing to follow his targets to Death's Boat. You remember shuddering the first time you heard about how he shoves them off. 

He is dedicated, in the least. You, of all people, know how the Bazaar and her Curators are with secrets. Having someone so naive, so desperate for a place in the world, makes it easy to keep enforcing their wills.

He tenses. "Have we met?"

He wouldn't remember if you had, you think. You say, "No. I'm a friend of the Bazaar, though. Don't fret." 

He doesn't relax. "They call me that. But I'm just a bounty hunter." He's modest and that's strange down here. You wonder how long he will be like this.

"A hard job when death isn't permanent down here," you smile. His name and face are known. His habits will be known next. "A tattoo, then?" 

"An eye. Like they say hides under the Zee." 

You take out your instruments. "Have you seen it?"

"Not yet." 

You have no doubt he will. Already you know he's curious in ways that are dangerous. You ink it into the soft flesh of his inner arm with peligin. Gant flecks the pupil, because he will be consumed soon too.

He's silent as you work, like he's holding his breath. He watches with the same peligin eyes. You are sure they were brown before he got hungry. You wonder how he started.

"Do you dream?" You ask. 

"Even when I don't sleep," he says quietly.

"I'll give you some advice, on the house. When things seem too hard to bare, look to love. Always." 

His eyebrows furrow. "I don't know anything 'bout love "

"No?" You tilt your head. "Nothing about the sacrifice? The feeling of tightness in your chest like you may be drowning? The feeling you get when you remember the stars?"

His breathing hitches. You both fall silent, until finally he replies, "Isn't love dangerous here?"

"Yes. But when has that ever stopped you?" You're talking about yourself but you see something in his eyes that reminds you of yourself. You had been curious like him too once. And you had found the answers in the Game That Stretched To The Stars and you had fallen in love. Every year you return to the Neath. You look to love and add your own stories to her runed spires. 

He doesn't answer. 

After, he pays and leaves a tip. You raise a brow but he leaves before you can ask. He's left you his card, though you never use it. He leaves in the direction of the Forgotten Quarter. You can almost hear him telling the Well his stories.

(No, not you. The you you left behind.)

You see him again before you leave again to the surface, the tattoo is healed but you think you see it blink.

–

The second time you meet him, it's two years later. His hair is turning white, his eyes almost golden. He gives you a candle. It smells like lilacs. He's trying to hide the smell of absinthe on his breath. 

"Have you seen the Vake?" The Vake-Scarred Hunter asks.

"I hear hunters go missing searching for it. I wouldn't dare seek it out." 

He pulls out a crumpled paper. You didn't take him for an artist but it looks like something you would see in a research paper. Messy sketches with too much attention to the wings. You absentmindedly touch the tattoo you gave yourself. The one of a crab. 

There's love in his drawings. Like there's love in your work. 

"A bat," you say evenly. Mr Veils, you think. You've met them in passing, although never without their robes like he's sketched out here. You've read all about it on the hidden undersides of the Bazaar. She keeps even the worst and failed love stories, though they are hidden. You doubt even Veils knows its tale is burned into her carapace, right next to a name that should no longer exist. 

"Please. Can you do it?"

You have turned down many Vake-Hunters but you do it for him. For the love story it will produce.

Wings wrapped around his neck as you know claws have wrapped around it before. You can see the blood from a weeping scar soaking into his shirt. How many times has he died now? And how cruel is fate is to give him eyes you once saw in the Irrigo pools. He's hungry and has lost too much weight. 

Is he the one, you wonder?

When you finish, you hold out a mirror and you swear you see him wipe away tears. You inked the stars of the wings in cosmogone and violant. A feral grin and eyes the speak of intelligence rather than a beast. 

"Yes," he whispers, "That's perfect."

You wonder if Veils will be offended or proud.

–

It's the third time and yet the first. He's soaked from well water, limping. He almost looks like he recognizes you. He's full of love like you are. The real you. 

(You're early.) You say and the real you would feel guilty. Down here, you don't, you can't. He still reminds you of yourself. Would you stop him if you could? Fate and Destiny are such strange things. You had once sought yours too.

The Rapacious Hunter wants answers, of course. You can give them. Just like the Bazaar once gave you.

(No more mysteries.) You tell him. (Mr Candles was forgotten and you must be too. I know what you want – what he wants and what the real me wants. And it's all about love.)

You almost laugh at the look he gives you, somewhere between surprise, joy, and fear. (Oh, hush, I can say it down here. No one can hear us. It's just you and me. I'm no one and you're even less than that.) 

You baptise him in Irrigo. You don't need to take anything, he'll leave behind a shade like you. His future is already set in stone. But you will make it so he can't back out, can't turn around. The Masters will know. But will they remember after they've seen him long enough to stop him? 

(Perhaps, in time, he came to like being The Drowned Man. You're more alike him than any other.) 

You had met Candles and you had read the tragedy until your eyes burned from the Correspondence etched on the back of the one you love (not the you down here. The you down here doesn't love her). You had cried reading it and she had cried with you. She hadn't meant for it to happen like this, but she had no other options.

Perhaps Spices had been right, the Bazaar had told you, murder makes wonderful love stories. She's tired. You wish you could help more. 

In a way, you do, stepping to the side to reveal the candle. The Hunter-Seeker stumbles forward, desperate, mad. (Take it and you'll never be alone again.) You warn but you almost laugh. He's not alone. Not with the voice in his head. Not with Veils. Not with you.

(What else could I do but love you?) You ask because the real you gave you up for love. This Seeker will give himself up for love as well.

And there's a comfort in that. For him and you.

 –

“Do you ever miss the Sun?”

(Yes.)

He doesn't ask which Sun. You almost wish he would. 

– 

You don't expect to see him again, but the next year, he is back in you shop. He glows with a familiar violet. He knows you as much as you know him now. 

And both of you know what it's like to love a monster. 

"The Parabolan sun isn't right." People say there are only colors that exist in dreams. You are sure his eyes are that shade of gold now. 

You agree because you remember the way the sun of Parabola looked before he died. It was his light back then, not the false sun the Second City Refugees put into the sky. 

"They love the sun," you reply, "They couldn't live without it, so they built their own."

"Love makes people do horrible things." He isn't talking about Parabola anymore. Maybe he's not even the one talking. 

"Especially when you love something cruel."

"Cruel enough to kill?" He asks and you are positive you aren't talking to the Hunter now. 

"Cruel enough to imprison." You can't help the sadness in your voice. It still surprises you, though.

"All shall be well. It promised."

"They will only take a little. They promised." You counter. It's a low kind of blow but you don't say it bitterly. Everything that the Bazaar did, she did for love.

The two of you stare at each other. He closes his eyes, steadies himself. "Ah," he chuckles, "But we wouldn't love them if they weren't so."

Yes, yes, you agree. If the Messenger had succeeded, or had it not had tried so hard, you would not love it so. If Veils hadn't betrayed, it would not be Veils. 

You don't say any of this, of course. What you say is, "A final parting gift?"

He nods. "I want to remember Parabola." 

A vine in viric curls up his leg like a snake. Thorns look like they could draw real blood and buds could bloom into roses if you close your eyes. You step back so he can see your work. 

"Do you think," he starts, "that this will ever end?" 

"I know it will." How, you aren't sure. But you know sooner or later it will end. You know the politics of the Wilderness.

You pick up your needle one last time, put it to skin and write one word. A name. The name of the Bounty Hunter in front of you. He won't be this way much longer, but for now, it's his name.

He will be remembered this time.

–

The Once-Master had promised you the Sun. 

You had haunted the Nadir like a ghost, turned bitter by being given up. The real you had left you, so that she may work to a doomed future. The Bazaar is doomed. You can't change that. Perhaps you want to punish yourself. Bring light to the Neath and end this charade. 

The real you had love, had a future. You would take it from her as they had taken it from Mr Eaten. Grief and hate are all that's left you which is why it hurts so bad to realize the Rapacious Hunter has more.

He has hope.

You are silent as he lets the Betrayer cut him apart. You expected Veils to kill him. You find yourself surprised yet again by how the whole thing unfolds. Instead, the Hunter is left less than he was before, if possible. Less human. But not a candle.

Not yet. He wants to be more. He wants to be Candles. 

That leaves you as Eaten, you suppose. The agony and hate made manifest. You think you, too, have been betrayed. You would have frozen with him had he asked. Died here in the north with nothing but each other. You love him because there is nothing left of you, as there will be nothing left of him. He is meant to bring Law to this Lawless place. Restore the balance of the Chain. 

He is meant to be avenged and remembered. He promised you would see the Sun.

You break your silence only because he is so weak. You aren't sure if he can make it. But he has made it this far and you are left without a choice. It's now or never. 

(Knock, and ask.) 

"How can he return?" The question is a damnation. There is no  Sequence for this. But you realize, suddenly, this may have not been Eaten's plan, but it had been Candles. A Greater Plan, a Greater Sin. This is greater than you, or the Vake-Scarred Hunter, or even Mr Veils who slinks back as the gate ignites in a burning white light. The real stars glisten and glow. A ripple across the door. 

You understand. This had never been about the Bazaar or the Betrayers. This is about those higher. Lure the White here, to this Lawless place. An army is building.

On the surface, the real you makes a wish on a shooting star that streaks across the horizon. In all things, look to love.

Veils is staring, not at the stars but at the figure in front of the gate. The shadow that had been the Seeker bursts at the seams with light and memories. Lacre cannot bury Law. You cannot reach his mind, the place you had made home. It's not there and neither are you. You are finished. Nothing will remain. 

But in the end, you see a Sun, bright golden.

#fallen london #my writing

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Bird Brains

Rating: Teen for cursing and vulgar / sexual language 

Main Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC) Side Pairing: Kirishima x Nene (OC)

Words: 2,354

“Oh get that pout off your face, Katsuki. This will be fun!” Koge nudged her boyfriend in the side playfully, currently walking beside him with their arms linked. Bakugou’s pouty scowl didn’t budge, though he did glance down at her before his glare returned to the sidewalk. “I don’t know how you talked me into this shit, Utsuro. You know I hate double dates.” With a small shake of her head, Koge brought her free hand around, patting his arm gently. His skin was hot against hers, a telltale sign of agitation, but he wasn’t frustrated enough to bail just yet. “Last time you had a blast, though. And things have been so busy lately we haven’t gotten to see Eijirou or Nene in a long time.”

“Tch, we talk to them every day.”

“Texting and voice chats on video games isn’t the same. C’mon, it’ll be alright.” Rubbing his forearm gently, Koge rested her head against his shoulder. “I promise I will try to control Nene’s drinking.”

“Yeah right! You both enable and encourage each other. I know for a fact that you’re both going to get shitfaced, and she’s going to become this handsy little brat that I’m going to have to constantly swat away from you all night. Shitty Hair thinks it’s funny, but I don’t.” Bakugou turned his glare down to Koge, eyeing her with suspicion. “Last time it was just me and you two girls? She had her hands on your tits faster than I ever have!” Koge burst out laughing, reaching up to cover his mouth as other pedestrians gave them odd looks at his outburst. “Shh! Katsuki, oh my god, we are literally out on the street.”

She yelped as he bit her palm, quickly taking it away from him before he could do further damage. “I don’t care! You should be ashamed of how you act when you’re drunk, both of you. I swear, if I have to pull you off of each other, I’m going to fucking flip.” Bakugou huffed as Koge only continued to giggle, obviously annoyed with her not taking this as seriously as he was. “Katsuki, love, it’s okay. Nene’s told me she doesn’t have a crush on me anymore like she did in high school, anything she does is just… drunken impulse. And she always apologizes when she’s sober again.”

“Drunken impulses and words are just unfiltered urges and thoughts.”

“Very poetic, Katsuki. But seriously, it’s alright. Nene doesn’t mean anything by what she does or says. Please don’t get mad at her, okay?” Koge gave a small pout up towards him as his glare returned to her. With a click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes, Bakugou looked away. “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute, Utsuro. Whatever. If you’re so sure, then this time, I’m not going to do jack shit to stop her.”

“I’ll control her Katsuki. You just worry about enjoying yourself, okay? Maybe there will be a song you’d like to sing!”

“I don’t sing.”

“You can try! We can duet together.” Koge smiled, kissing his shoulder softly, though the black fabric of his shirt separated their skin. “After a drink or two, you always give in.” Bakugou gave a soft grunt, finally seeming to relax as he unhooked their arms so he could wrap one around her shoulders. “I’m not letting you get me drunk. We still have to take a train home.” They stopped at a light, waiting for it to change so they could walk across with the group of other people around them. Koge kept her arm around his waist, feeling her cheeks flush as he tugged her tightly against him, placing a firm kiss on the top of her head. “We can always just crash at Nene and Eijirou’s place, it’s on this street.”

“Fuck that. Tomorrow is my day off, there’s no way I’m waking up anywhere but our place. With your hungover ass next to me.” Arm still around her shoulders, he cupped her chin and tilted her head up, kissing her softly. “Not getting to wake up with you as often anymore fucking sucks.” Koge couldn’t help but to smile, getting another quick kiss before they began to walk with the crowd across the street. “You miss me?”

“Yes. That’s the only reason why I’ve agreed to come. This is our first night off together in a long time, I’m not letting you go without me. Even if that means I have to suffer through bullshit.”

Koge giggled softly, rubbing his back as they walked. “How sweet. I miss you, too, Katsuki. Hopefully things will calm down soon.” She glanced around as they reached the karaoke bar, just to make sure that their friends hadn’t been waiting outside. With no sign of them, Koge pulled out her phone, which had a text from Nene telling them what room they had reserved. “They’re already inside. Ready?”

Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, releasing her as he walked into the building. “Ready as I’ll ever fucking be. Let’s get this torture over with.” Since the hallway was a bit small, Koge walked behind him, slipping two of her fingers from each hand into the corresponding back pockets of his jeans so that he couldn’t walk faster than her. With a scoff, he glared at her over his shoulder. “Get your hands out of my pockets, you’ll pull my pants down.” Koge gave a sly smile, refusing to comply with his demand. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing a belt, then, Mr. Baggy Pants. Oh, here!” Koge came to an abrupt halt, yanking on his pants to make him stop as well as they passed the door to their room.

Instantly, Bakugou hissed out in pain, leaning forward a bit with his hands on his knees. “Utsuro… Did you forget that I have a dick and balls?” Koge gasped, covering her mouth before she burst out in giggles. “Oops, sorry, Katsuki! Did I crush them?” She rubbed his back, leaning over to look at his face. Brow furrowed in a pained glare, Bakugou’s crimson gaze locked into her. “You did, fucking ditz. I except a rub down later as an apology.” As he stood up straight again, Koge continued to snicker, patting his chest gently before turning her attention to the door. “Oh come on, Katsuki, that’s not the first time I’ve accidentally crushed your balls.”

Not waiting for his response, Koge opened the door to the karaoke room, peeking inside. “Helloooo?”

Before she could even get the door all the way open, she was snatched into a tight and familiar grip, the soft scent of floral perfume filling her sensus. “Ko-chan! Finally you’re here!” Koge returned the hug, though she had been a bit taken aback by the sudden attack. “Ne-chan, you’re gonna crush me!”

“Oh no I’m not!” Nene released her, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you could come. We already have drinks and snacks ordered, I remembered what you both liked.” Her grey eyes turned to look up at Katsuki, who was waiting quietly behind Koge with his typical frown. “Thank you for coming, Katsu. We missed you both!” Bakugou scoffed, following Koge in as Nene moved back to allow them entry. “Yeah, whatever. You already sound drunk.” Nene giggled, shutting the door behind them. “Well I may have taken a shot already, sorry!”

Bakugou ignored her comment as he greeted Kirishima, the two sharing a quick fist bump before Bakugou flopped to sit on the bench across from his friend, who had a wide grin on his face. “Hey man, it’s good to see you! I’m surprised Koge talked you into coming.”

“Tch, barely.” Bakugou looked up at Koge as she came to sit next to him, pulling her legs up onto the bench. “Honestly it didn’t take much,” She piped in, reaching across the table to snatch a pack of spicy shrimp chips. “He totally wanted to come.” Opening up the bag, she began to munch on the chips, watching Nene sit down beside Kirishima. “Of course he did, he likes hanging out with us. He just doesn’t want to admit it.” Nene teased the blonde across from her, picking up her sketchbook and placing it on her lap. “I like the new hair, by the way!”

Bakugou reached up and ruffled his hair at the comment. “It’s just an undercut, it’s not that big of a deal…” Koge giggled at his bashful response, raising a shrimp chip to his lips. “It makes a big difference, though. Makes you look much older and more mature.” Bakugou glowered down at the chip before he took it from her with his teeth, munching away as an excuse to avoid responding to her. Nene laughed softly, already sketching, as she had a tendency to do. “He looks great. I keep telling Kiri to get a haircut, but he refuses.” Kirishima scoffed softly, reaching up to touch his own hair. “Hey babe, my hair is fine. The longer it gets, the more I can spike it up, it looks rad.”

“Yeah, it’s rad until you complain about how much hair gel you have to wash out every night.” Nene’s eyes flashed up to the couple across from her every couple of seconds, where Koge was still feeding Bakugou chips. “Ko-chan, what do you think?” “Hmmm…” Koge looked Kirishima over for a bit. “I think it’s fine right now. Any longer, though, and you’ll start to look like a…. Ne-chan, what are those birds in America?”

“Cardinals! The red ones with the little flippy bit of feathers on the top of their heads.” Nene was quick to sketch one beside her current more serious drawing, showing Kirishima as he looked over at it curiously. “Hey, I do not look like that! My hair goes forwards, not back!” Nene smiled at him as he pouted. “It’s okay, you’re not as bad as Katsu. He looks like a Silkie.”

“A what?” Bakugou growled at her, chip between his teeth. Nene began to laugh, covering her lips with her pencil. “A Silkie chicken! Ko-chan, look it up on your phone.”  Too curious to ignore, Koge did as instructed, pulling out her phone and beginning to search. “Silkie… chick-- no! Blonde… Silkie chicken.” There was a moment of silence between everyone before Koge burst out laughing, holding the phone away from Bakugou so he couldn’t see. “Oh my god, he does!!”

“Let me see it!” Bakugou snapped, trying to reach for her phone, though she kept it out of his reach. “No! Katsuki, you can’t see it, you’ll get mad- Hey!” She was crushed down onto the bench as he climbed over her, snatching the phone away from her flailing hand. “Ouch, Katsuki! No, you can’t see it!” As she tried to take it back, Bakugou was easily able to hold her down, looking at the phone screen intently for a moment. Nearly instantly, his face flushed bright red, that familiar enraged snarl taking over his features. “What the fuck is this?!”

Koge and Nene both burst out laughing, though Kirishima was focused on trying to find the chicken on his own phone. Finally able to wiggle free, Koge sat up, snatching her phone back from him before he could blow it up on accident. “It’s a Silkie chicken!” Nene stifled her laughter as Kirishima leaned over towards her, head on her shoulder to get her attention. “Babe, what’s the phrase, I can’t find it--”

“Don’t show it to him!” Bakugou barked across the table, ready to jump across and take the phone away. “He’ll show it to all the other idiots and I’ll never get any peace!” Right as Bakugou finished his threat, Kirishima burst out laughing, having found the right picture just from a pointing of Nene’s finger. “Holy crap! Bakugou, it does look just like you!” Growling and trembling with anger now, Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest. “Fuck you! I do not look like that stupid fucking chicken!”

Koge reached across the table, picking up the bottle that held her favorite sake and cup. “Katsuki, love of my life, we’re just teasing you. You’re much better looking than the chicken.” As she poured herself a shot, she smiled slyly at her lover, whos glare was sharp enough to kill. “Want a shot?”

“... Yes.”

She handed him the cup that was full to the brim, allowing him to throw it back before taking the cup from him. “How is it?” Bakugou huffed, snatching the shrimp chips she had been eating to munch on them. “Shit. I can’t believe you like that one.”

“I love it. It’s so sweet, unlike my boyfriend.” Koge dodged a chip that was thrown at her before taking a shot of the sake, though she was unable to dodge a second one as it smacked her in the cheek while swallowing. Nene smiled, already back to drawing as she watched the two of them. “You’re both silly.” Kirishima put his arm around Nene’s shoulders, resting his head against hers gently as she watched her draw. “They have a weird relationship. Sometimes I don’t get them.” Nene hummed softly as she wiggled herself closer to him, eyes darting back up to the couple in front of them as she continued to draw. “I wish they would sit still.”

“Huh?” Koge looked up, shrimp chip hanging out of her mouth as she sat beside Bakugou, who currently had his arm on her head as if she were an armrest. “Are you drawing us?” Nene smiled, her cheeks flushing a bit. “Ah, I’m trying to. But it’s okay, it’s not serious.” Kirishima gave a soft huff. “What do you mean not serious? Look at that, it’s great!”

Nene turned dark red at the praise, bringing her knees up closer to her chest and hiding her face behind her sketchbook. “Kiri, stooooop. I get so embarrassed!” Koge smiled, filling a clean cup to the brim with sake before pushing it towards her best friend, who peeked out from behind her sketchbook curiously.

“C’mon, Ne-chan. Let’s have some fun.”

#bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x oc #bakugou #bakugou scenarios #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha writing blog #oc #original character #koge #bakugou x koge

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 25

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

Author’s note: ***Small spoilers about Arthur’s past in this chapter!***

From Arthur’s POV

THE NEXT MORNING

Sliding the pencil across the paper, I drew a simple sketch of Eddie while he continued to sleep, his entire body submerged under the thick layers of blankets as he got some well-deserved rest. The boy looked perfectly content at the moment and didn’t have a single hint of worry clouding his expression. Instead, he simply drifted away in whatever dream was floatin’ around his head at the moment and held onto the pillow as if it was another person, squishin’ his face into the cushion.

I chuckled softly at the sight and added some details to his portrait, tryin’ to make it more than just a mess of scrawls and doodles like I normally did.

It had been a long time since I last sat down and drew something. With all the mayhem goin’ on recently, I almost forgot what it felt like to lose myself in my journal. But being back in Saint Denis, and preparing for this riverboat robbery -- it all got me itchin’ to sketch something again. And, I figured, who better to draw than the person I enjoyed being around the most?

Lightly scratching the pencil’s tip in a series of short strokes, I scribbled down Eddie’s ruffled hair and added some shadows around the sliver of sunlight runnin’ across his face, trying to make it as gentle as possible. He appeared to be in a complete state of solace right now, and I wanted to capture it as best I could. After all, I doubted it’d be a long while before he’d be this calm again, considerin’ what was coming up in the near-future...and I couldn’t deny that I was scared, too.

I mean, with the direction Dutch was headed in and the way our gang was slowly fallin’ apart, it made me question just how much longer this whole thing was actually gonna last. Civilization was storming through the country at a rate we couldn’t keep up with, and the more we ran from it, the more it seemed to close its walls around us.

We was only delaying the inevitable, s’far as I was concerned. Sooner or later, America was gonna throw us out like it did everything else, and we’d have to be ready for it. Whether we wanted to or not.

Catchin’ my attention with the soft sound of rustling, a gentle sniff reached my ears as I stopped drawing for a second and put down my journal, only to find Eddie sleepily looking back at me from the bed. His eyes were half-open just as I expected, and a lazy smile radiated on his face as he rose from slumber.

I smirked at him, placin’ the journal on my lap.

“There he is,” I teased. “Thought you was never gonna wake up.”

Eddie chuckled at that and glanced at my journal, causin’ him to raise a brow outta curiosity.

“...Are you drawing me?” He asked.

I nodded and carefully began to tear the sketch out, handing it to him.

“You mentioned Rodrick burned the other portrait. I, ah...figured I could make a replacement.”

The pianist sat up and took the sketch in his grasp, admiring it in a fond manner before beaming at me.

“Thank you, Arthur,” he said, his expression dimming with sadness. “I mean it. ...I truly thought I’d never see you again when I was stuck in that cellar with Rodrick. I know I wasn’t there for very long, but...he certainly made it feel like an eternity. I’m just glad you showed up before anything else could happen. If you hadn’t...I...I don’t even want to think about that.”

I let out a guilt-ridden sigh, starin’ at the numerous scars Rodrick had left on Eddie’s body.

“You and me both. I’m just sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

Eddie’s sorrowful mood was quickly replaced with a sense of vengeance and he firmly shook his head in response, starin’ outside the window.

“I swear, Arthur...before all this comes to an end, I’m killing everyone in that bloody gang. Atticus, Rodrick, and anyone else who laid a finger on you or my family. They all deserve to die. They need to be wiped out.”

I suddenly thought back to what Hosea had warned me about and finally decided to bring up the subject, scootin’ my chair closer to the boy as Hosea’s final words rang in my head like a distant bell.

“...Actually, Eddie,” I said lowly, shutting my journal closed, “I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about that.”

Eddie perked his head up, softening his tone slightly. “About what?”

I hesitated for a second and leaned forward, tryin’ to get my thoughts straight as the pianist waited for an explanation.

“I know this might sound strange at first, but...if my years as an outlaw have taught me anything, it’s that revenge...ain’t worth the sacrifice.”

The pianist gave me a puzzled look. “...I-I don’t understand. How can wanting to kill Atticus be a bad thing? Don’t you think he deserves death?”

“Of course I think he deserves death,” I replied. “But we may not be the ones to deliver it, and we’d be fools to hunt him down. I mean...just look at Dutch. He’s obsessed with takin’ revenge. It’s the only thing he lives for now. Sadie, too. Their want for revenge has consumed the both of them, and it’s turned ‘em into killers.”

I paused for a second, lookin’ at Eddie with a caring expression. “...But you ain’t no killer, Eddie. And I don’t wanna see you become one. You’re still young. You still have the potential to live a normal life, once all this is over. Atticus has already stolen your past from you. Don’t throw away your future for that bastard, too.”

The boy fell silent at that and thought to himself, clearly experiencing some sorta inner conflict now that I was sayin’ these things. He seemed to see my point and I could tell he knew where I was coming from, but there was still a reluctance to agree.

Tryin’ to make my point more understandable for him, I decided to tell Eddie a story that I hadn’t told anyone else aside from Dutch and Hosea, and took a deep breath, hoping that this would be able to change his mind.

“...Lemme put it this way,” I began, gaining the pianist’s attention. “I was once in the same position as you, Eddie. I know how temptin’ revenge is...and I’ve seen what happens if you give in to it. I lost my family too. Many years ago. Just like you did.”

That piqued his interest. “...Really?”

A mournful breath escaped me. “Yeah. I...I used to have a son, actually. His name was Isaac. He was...such a good kid. And so was his mother, I guess. Just a nineteen-year-old girl named Eliza. They was the closest thing to a real family I ever had. I wasn’t able to stay with them all the time ‘cause of my work with Dutch, but every few months or so, I’d go back home and stay with ‘em for a couple of days. Try to give Isaac some sort of father figure. And for a while, it worked. But...just like everything else, it eventually failed.”

I brought my gaze to the floor, admittedly findin’ this a lot harder to talk about than I first anticipated.

“I came back home one day...and saw two crosses outside. I knew right away what happened. I just didn’t know how. It turned out -- they was robbed. And killed. All for ten bucks.”

I swallowed out of grief and bit my lip, thinking back to that god-awful day as Eddie listened intently.

“Their deaths...” I continued, trying keep it together, “they changed somethin’ inside me. I spent so long tracking down their killers. It was all I cared about for the next few months. I didn’t care about Dutch, or Hosea, or the gang...the only thing I wanted was to find the people who had killed them, and make them pay for it.”

I repainted the killers’ faces in my mind, gesturin’ to an invisible scene as I carried on with the story.

“...One night, I found their camp while I was searching along a river bank.  They were all there, huddled ‘round a campfire and sharin’ drinks. Having a good ol’ time. They almost reminded me of our gang...but that didn’t matter to me. Without saying a word, I stormed in there like an absolute madman and shot the whole lot of them. Set their stuff on fire. Did everything I could to make sure they was sufferin’ in their last moments. And I sure as shit did.”

I glanced down at my hands. “When it was over, though...I felt...strange. I remember I was sittin’ there in the middle of their camp, kneeling on the ground with bodies lying all around me and blood staining my hands. The peace I had been looking for was nowhere to be found. Instead...I just felt empty. Like I no longer had a reason to live now that my family’s killers were dead. I had sacrificed everything for these bastards, and forgotten the man I once was in the process.”

I turned back to Eddie, resting a hand on top of his.

“You’re the only person I’ve found ever since then who’s...who’s made me care again. Who’s made me feel like this ain’t a waste of time. So please, Eddie. Don’t do what I did. Don’t become the man I am. You’ll never find peace otherwise, and there ain’t no goin’ back. Can you promise me you won’t?”

The boy was quiet for a while, evidently taken aback by the story I just told him and surprised about my past while he considered everything I said. There was still a fire in his eyes that told me his desire to kill Atticus hadn’t gone anywhere -- and that it probably wouldn’t anytime soon -- but against all better judgement, Eddie eventually gave in and sighed out of defeat, agreeing to promise this one thing.

“...Okay,” he whispered vehemently. “It’s...going to take me some time to understand all this completely, but if you think this is what’s best for me...then I’ll do it. I promise.”

I nodded in approval. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Having had enough of this melancholic mood, I cleared my throat and stood up from the chair, gettin’ ready to head outside the saloon as I brought my mind back to the robbery at hand.

“Anyways,” I said, “I’ll let you get dressed. Meet me outside when you’re finished cleanin’ up, and then we’ll head back to camp and...let Dutch know what’s what.”

“Alright,” the pianist replied. “You sure we can rob this riverboat?”

I shrugged, makin’ my way out the door.

“I ain’t sure of nothin’ just yet. All I know is there’s money on that boat, and Dutch wants it. So long as he’s got his eyes on that cash, we ain’t going nowhere. The best we can do is be prepared, and keep our eyes peeled. Other than that...” I opened the door, scoffing in an amused tone, “we’ll just pray, I guess. But at this point, pfft...I doubt even God would bother savin’ us.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

[akalegos]

Could you tell us a little about your characters?

Y E S !

but due to me having at least over a thousand characters I’ll just give a quick summary of the 25 I manage to dig up over 3 sketchbooks.

Y’all can pick and choose which of them interest yall or who you wanna hear more about!

Also because I’m extra, I made sketch icons for the 25 characters, info under the cut

I’ll talk a bit more about my actual Original Characters first, starting with

Aiko! Otherwise known as Echo

- A marked individual in a steampunk world that gets mixed with magic, because I like both of those things

- Echo runs an underground lab that does helps the underground world with replacing body parts, illegal surgeries etc etc

- Even though she marked, which puts a bounty on her head already, she is well respected by the community for not cheating for your money, stealing your cash, or shanking/killing you mid-surgery

- however, Echo does long for adventure and sometimes do get bored in the lab

oh yeah,, Echo like stealing eyeballs, so if you’re low on cash and wouldn’t mind losing an eye, you know who to call!!

Bonus:

Here’s Echo’s boring, undeveloped sidekick!! I don’t like her and I don’t know how to make her better. Yes, she doesn’t have a name.

here’s my god playboy that left “heaven” due to having an early mid-life crisis, I call him God boi cause;

- He goes by many names! 

tbh, he’s probably the closest character I have to being genderfluid/-neutral? I’m not sure,,

- The god has many powers, from lightning to shapeshifting

- The shapeshifting part allows him to change every part of himself, allowing him to change depending on his situation.

- God boyo, or originally Aristide, is obsessed with the idea of perfection. A god should be perfect, if a god is out of line, he is no god. 

- Same goes for him, which means whenever something is wrong with him, it affects him, extremely

However, leaving the land of gods to live among humans aren’t all perks

- Aris isn’t immune to diseases or injuries. In fact, he actually fell down and died on impact when he came to earth, being reborn into another child immediately.

- He doesn’t gain his memories back automatically tho!! He has to have a major shock to the brain in order for him to remember his previous lives

- Sometimes the shock isn’t enough either, when you have a thousand over lives, you won’t remember every single one of them. So forgotten lovers coming back to haunt because your brain hates you? That’s everyday for him!

i just,, i like playing with the concepts of god,,

Up next we got Ayeka Himura! A japanese student going to a neighborhood, but still a pretty good, school living close to poverty due to her father’s constant spending habits and obsession with art supplies. With the household lacking a mother due to wacky shenanigans, Ayeka takes care of her two younger siblings and the house, all while maintaining a very well-paid job and slowly loosing interest in actually studying for a good, honest job.

also she likes birds!!

Yes her design is heavily “based” off Toga but I love her current design too much to change it, h e l p

So like,, I suck at chinese and I made ocs that exclusively spoke in chinese to help with that but I’m still stuck at 40~marks

I forgot his scar but remembered his earring i hate myself

my og chinese kiddo! he was was first to come and I love his design ever since

he radiates fuck you energy except the girl below. He’s neighbors with her and they acknowledge each other existence ever since. he has a dumb cliche crush on her and is a bit protective of her because nothing says having issues than latching onto someone that makes you happy

Only this girl got named!! even tho she was the second character.

Li Shen, yes she doesnt have a surname, is apparently main ho now, according to my old oc chart of my “main” ocs

She’s the group’s resident sweetheart and really does not want you to do stupid shit, stop doing stupid shit. She tutors my son up there ^^ even though he’s actually smart and just refuses to do his work properly. But she still deeply cares for him.

As well as the girl below shdifhd

the last girl of the ching chong trio and the reason I had to switch up my son’s design is this girly over here! Her design was too business-y and formal so I enrolled all of them into college. A rich girl who doesn’t know how to deal with her g a y thoughts. Tried sending Li Shen some flowers once. She didn’t realize attaching her name would be a good idea and son got a good laugh.

i like paranormal stuff so they apparently look into that shit in their spare time. They’re all actually really fun characters to do prompts with I swear!! send some in and I’ll write them

I had a previous concept for son and Li Shen before last girl came and if yall want me to talk about it,,, i found my sketchbook with the old ideas,,

NEXT UP IS MY OLD GIRL ELORA!!

Elora herself used to be a fan character but I pulled her out and wow\

cant fucking believe she used to be straight for Vylad

shes the outgoing, fun adventure type! bit of mommy issues here and there tho,, I don’t want to say too much since I have an entire for her +

her now upgraded bro, Vincent

i really like the name vincent,,

also now he has mommy issues

Ead, the knight who used to have armor

I hate drawing armor 

he also have issues

AND IRIS MY SWEET GIRL IM SO SORRY

she doesnt have that much issues tho

basically I made elora and her bro have mommy issues, I’m sorry in advance if that spoils anything

I, sometimes, post about these 4 over on @eloradiesismydocsname​ and its a gay ol’ time

not that gay tho because uhh,, medieval times,, but I need prompts for a modern au of them and I am happy to talk about their personalities and even go semi in-depth for any of them!!

here we have ghoster.png,, which is her file name cause I didn’t name her,,

A horror enthusiast + film student that goes to a supposedly haunted shack to film her upcoming project with the boys. wacky shenanigans occur and the boys left leaving ghoster here to starve and eventually fall to her death. But because it’s my oc i get to bring her back from the dead, now hungry as ever and will fucking eat you, its not a kink thing, shes just that hungry and angry

tax fraud.png

a robo girl that i created during social studies cause they were talking about taxes and i just went, “what if,, a robo runs on taxes,,, and like,, she haunts you down for not paying your taxes,,” thus she was born! I don’t know what to name her but she is set in the future so-

Time to go future-apocalypse style because I love that setting too and was upset that I didn’t have any ocs in that style. So I created Alex A. ! A cybrog filled with memories of the previous generations as a sad attempt to preserve human life.

He’s accompanied by his sister/cousin idr i didn’t draw an icon for her, didnt like her design. they go on a hunt for food and to return with nothing. She gets to meet this other dude who has a plant arm im pretty sure i based him off someone’s elses oc but i cant remember. The 3 are forgotten. Kinda want to bring them back tho.

Neon! A character set in the future utopia of lazy people, where gamers rise up. its the best I can describe her story without getting too deep. She the new hacker on the block, joining the underground gang of elite hackers. She’s another one of those wacky characters that just has fun. I mean, when you know your way around codes and the world you live in is full of it, would you not take advantage of that?

as for fan characters,, uhh,, i have em

STARTING WITH MY WIFE!

Alexzandra Zara oh my god i forgot to draw her necklace and shirt

anyways,, Alexzandra is one of the more older ocs I have that didnt get a big revamp. Only an au I develop to the point I forgot the actual shows and the original cast are a little different from the source haha what? She’s the emotionally unstable german war veteran, yes the wife thing isn’t mutual, and haha shes only 27~. I cling onto her so much?? She’s hits a lot of “edgy” points but I still love her cause idk,, the story I made for her is something I hold dear cause Alexzandra was one of my first ACTUALLY DEVELOPED CHARACTER. Is it wrong to say I hold her really close to my heart? Is that weird? probably a little cringy sorry haha. I probably project a little into her which might have strengthened my love for her ack. Her story delves more into the depression very unstable needs to talk to someone side and i get scared talking about my wife’s story online so uhh, idk ask me specific questions about her, I’ll be more inclined to talk.

Dr Watts! The spoiled ass dick that stole dst Wilson’s house and yes this is a dst oc, yes im slightly sorry.

He’s just fun?? almost ran a blog with him and a friend’s oc. He’s your typical uptight old science gramps that took advantage of the fact that no one knows his real name that he calls himself a doc. He’s not. I put everything about him up to a 9-10? He’s one of those wacky characters and I love him for it! His story is really wonky tho so might need help solidifying that part 

and from the angry old man to my sweet man that will adopt you even if you’re noisy or call him ginger. Pilot here is a TF2 OC I made to interact with other tf2 OCs cause some of them are fun and i wanna join in :((

He’s the Canadian stereotype, and yes, he adopted scout, that was one of my character notes. 

Like the actual cast of tf2, there’s barely any real story to him. I only gave him a vague I don’t know my past but hey, i fly really really well. He participated in war unlike certain men but he’s still really nice and will only kill you if you hurt his family. Which he doesn’t know so he just considers the cast his family. He keeps mentioning a wife though, pretty sure he doesn’t have one but you do what makes you happy son.

Ai! an oc I HEAVILY revamped oh my god i hate her old vers. So if yall remember my random shouting of missing my og son, Aru. Here’s his bff. cause he barely has any actual friends that give a shit. And I just cant have that. but here’s your yandere revamped into a last minute addition. I actually feel like I did Ai a lot of justice. I don’t want to delve too deep cause I will start making charts. I’ll do that in a separate post if yall are keen

Isamu Aena! a mp100 oc I made by accident cause idk,, I was thinking about lolita fashion and all of a sudden, the actual oc I was going to make turned into a mob psycho oc. She’s one of my few ocs where her sexuality matters (she’s gay yeah) cause it plays a role in her storyline. She went from being “manipulated”/used to Mob’s wingwomen. She spots out things that can help him in the romantic department cause she’s into romance. A student of the school Mob infiltrated and a fantastic tailor, not to mention a pretty decent pyschic. wait where do models get their lolita stuff from,,

im gonna ignore that and move onto Lillian Yi! Who, i swear i did not meant for it, is very close to lloyd. I mean,, none of the ninjas were with him after s3, who you think he’d meet. Lillian is a survivor from the Great Devourour and yes I’m still pissed LEGO stole my backstory for Lillian to use for Harumi. FUCK YOU LEGO, i still love both of em tho,, The event did leave a big scar and it made Lillian job jumping for a bit, ending at Chen’s Noodles in S6~, where ya know,, stuff got better. She was a medalist for gymnastics and continue the activity, even after her parents’ death, to please others. She was already lost at the time so staying in the sport would help, right? Needless to say, after being rejected at a cop academy for youths, or something similar, she gave up for a while but got back into the idea of saving people by using her skills she already had. It helped with the weight and feelings and meeting the green ninja was a very big bonus. Also Lloyd dubbed her the “mysterious stranger” when she refused to speak in fear of her identity, slight shame, and maybe a bit of being star struck. It helped Lloyd too in a sense where he had something to distract him from Zane’s passing.

 Their relationship was eventually formed, strong and almost unbreakable, except for harumi but uhh thats a different story. Throughout the seasons, they stayed close and lloyd was always comforted by Lillian went times get ruff.

Also Lillian is my most light-hearted characters and I think that says a lot

Then there’s Nite “I don’t want to be your dad”. A character that is supposed to be in the ninjago world but barely interacts with the main story and only stays in his self contained plot. He was supposed to get a bf but uhhh idk. He’s the master of shifting and streams that online, taking out small crimes, and is actually really shy and doesn’t like interacting with people.

also haha fortnite

Nora Akino, the sin of despair! its an ad thing, I think. She speaks only in a foreign language that only Odin understands and is either big gay for Ava or Maggi, she can’t pick. And yes she did drink the vial, when TITAN attacks your planet and you accidentally die, how else can you meet your family again? also my grandpa walked in and said she looks like royalty. cool-

she wouldn’t leave my hand for like,, 3 days or something

Petri, a fellow troublemaker at camp campbell’s music camp. She managed to pick the camp because apparently a parent who doesn’t acknowledge your hard work don’t read the fine print! Please let David adopt her,,

LASTLY! Yukimaru Atsuko, hero name; Gummie. She goes by Yuki and is a big dick. She’s a studious student but gets more thrills on the actual battlefield. Living with her uptight grandma and her big bottom energy bro, she has the dom energy thing going. and apparently folks on G+, or the people who comment about her, thinks she’s really pretty, which was oddly a thing back before UA. She’s the dick you can like, not like Bakugou but she will definitely want to fight Bakugou. 

A gum-related quirk is not full of perks when its only your hands. I’d dive more into her like her insecurities and stuff but I’ve been here for probably 3hrs. Sorry anon.

Also I’m so sorry to anyone who reads this all the way through.

#not an ask #bkanvas' ocs #ocs

[smhtaehyung]

when all daisies disappear🌼|| chapter 6

• masterlist

• Pairing: taehyung x OC (mental hospital au)

• Genre: angst, fluff, smut in this chapter, romance

• Word count: 4.1k

• Warning: swearing, will contain themes such as suicidal thoughts, depression and physical violence. Some of the backstory for Taehyung’s character is taken from the BTS concepts during the hyyh era. if you feel uncomfortable with the topic of mental illness, I advise you not to read further.

•••

chapter 6 ➸ 443 🌼

I woke up the next day to a sound of something being dropped outside the door. Something, by hearing the noise, like a metal tray. I opened my eyes and lazily rubbed them as I observed Taehyung, who didn't even flinch, probably not even hearing the noise. I looked down and noticed my covered hands, his sweater still keeping me warm. Since Taehyung was asleep and had his back turned to me, I decided to quickly change. I put on my very old jeans and took off the knitted sweater and a top, only to put the sweater back on. Part of me was practical about it, the morning temperature being slightly colder, and the other part just wanted to keep his soft, cool looking and clean sweater on.

I walked out of the room, barely making any sounds as I enter the quite noisy hallways. Thank god that the thick walls of our room were enough to block the noise every day.

I walked down the hallway, and tried to remember every single detail about last night. It baffled me how could he like me this much when I'm so demanding and agressive with words. And his words are often so fragile, mainly because his usage of words and sentences makes it often difficult to understand what he's getting at. When people talk, we turn our feelings into words, slightly morphing them into another perspective that another human being would understand. But Taehyung has his own perspective, not wanting to let it be percieved the other way, so he lets you think about it and feels burdened when he needs to explain. So because he doesn't think how would he explain his emotions in a simple way through words, his words often sound overly emotional and can get pathetic at times. But I don't know why my mind overthought the way he speaks, when it sounds so caring and thoughtful.

My mind was trying to protect me, but also male sure that Taehyung wouldn't hurt me, like people, boys, had in the past. On top of all the other things, getting fucked over was the last thing I needed, so my mind was focused on slowing my emotions down. Like always, my emotions were confused. As I tried to balance each one out, it only started a worse mess. So we're playing it safe. And I hope I won't fall for his charms or his weird, yet cute hobby of collecting daisies.

I glanced at the big blue clock that was hanging in the interaction room. I widened my eyes when I realised it was almost lunch time. Taehyung and I really did stay out very long on the roof. No wonder he's still asleep.

I walked to the art room that was just a few steps away to the left from the interaction lobby. Jiyu greeted me inside the room with a warm and a smile that somehow shined sudden hope. "Ji! This sweater looks so pretty on you." She smiled and stroked my shoulder. "Thanks, Jiyu." I smiled back and walked to the empty table that had one half of it plastered with sunlight flares that shone through the window. "You're in a good mood." Jiyu softly spoke, standing at the opposite table, helping some patients while they were drawing already. "I guess so, I don't know actually. The better I feel, the more I sense I'm going to get worse and snap." I whispered and pulled a larger paper from the stack to my left. Jiyu sent me a worried glance. "Don't worry, Ji. Use this good mood while it lasts then. Don't feel burdened to feel certain things and don't try to come across as tough or untouchable. You're a human being. And no one's gonna hurt you here anymore." Jiyu warmly spoke, stroking my hair. I often consider Jiyu being as my mother figure. How could I not after she helps me this much and cares about me like a mother would with a child. She said on many occasions that she perceives me as a daughter of a one weird yet beautiful kind.

"Thanks Jiyu. You always know what to say." I smiled the same way she did. She walked to the other side of the room, keeping an eye out on us. I sat for a few minutes in silence, thinking about what should I draw. I bit on the pencil, trying to concentrate. My head immediately turned to the door when I heard a sound of someone coming in. It was sleepy Taehyung, of course, putting the napkin back in his pocket after he touched the doorknob. Without a thought, I slightly panicked upon seeing him and nervously looked around. Jiyu eyed me with provoking curiosity, probably onto me that I might trust Taehyung enough to like him.

Our other ward mates, greeted Taehyung and with a bright smile, like always, he walked over to their table, not even noticing me. A small smile on my lips dissappeared once I realised he didn't know I was in the room at all. I pulled the knitted sleeves over my fingers, making it look like 'sweater paws' as I clenched the soft fabric, desperately trying to relax. After a few minutes of me eavesdropping a random conversations he had with them, I sighed and started sketching. I sensed Taehyung coming closer to me. I looked up and caught eye contact with him. "You're going to sit here with me?" I questioned in a doubtful tone, motioning with my head towards the other ward mates and an empty seat at their table. He sat down and sighed.

"You looked lonely, so I came here." He said, focusing on taking out two of his sanitized and not dull pencils and an eraser. "I'm not lonely." I said and looked down, focusing on my sketch. "Okay. You're not. I'll always know though-" He tried to speak but I cut him off, looking directly into him. "Okay, so you came out of pity?" I questioned to which he immediately denied. "Why are you friends with those losers?" I scoffed, sending an annoyed stare their way. "I'm friends with everyone." He said, to which I couldn't really argue, because it was fairly truthful. "Ugh." I groaned. "You angry when I'm right?" He questioned with a smirk as he began drawing. "Very." I said and avoided eye contact with him, knowing I would start giggling. For a few minutes I observed Taehyung's drawing. The boy had an unique style indeed. He also had some talent that he showed, so it had potential to be good with practice, to which I hoped he would take.

"You like drawing caricatures?" I asked, smiling when I glanced at his paper. His lips curled up into a smile immediately when he saw me smiling too. "Yeah, but I'm more into graffiti." He said and looked down as he kept focusing on his work. "Really? Didn't know you were a bit on the edge with the law. Ever been arrested?" I asked with a chuckle, obviously joking, but Taehyung's mood switched for a second before he spoke. His hand stiffened for a second and his eyes searched the corners of the paper before he spoke. "Yeah." He quickly said and focused on his drawing. "Wow. Someone was in trouble." I commented, ignoring his puzzling reaction. "It's not really like that-" He tried to truthfully speak but stopped himself half way. "Never mind." He said and continued drawing. Not wanting to force him to say something he doesn't want to, like I usually do, I simply spoke. "Okay." I said and shrugged. He cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth to speak in sudden confusion. "You're not gonna force me to tell you?" He let out a confused tone. "Don't want to." I casually answered. He stared at me for a while as I could feel his eyes capturing me. After a few seconds of silence, his facial expression snapped back to a serious one.

"Listen, about last night-" He starte speaking as I felt my heart drop to my stomach and my neck suffocating itself slightly. I carefully listened and tried my best to not seem affected. I took a breath and looked up into him, letting him speak. "I know that the really soft version of you yesterday night wasn't what you like showing, or wasn't who you...are, like, most of the time." He tried to explain and even though it could come out wrong, I knew what he was getting at.

"I heard you have some issues from the past, and I understand that-" He continued speaking and I had to cut him off, trying to process what he had said. "What? Where'd you get that from?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. He widened his eyes, slightly scared by my sudden change of emotion. "It's okay-" He spoke but I cut him off. "No, it's not okay, it's all lies." I spoke, trying to calm down. "Hey, it's really okay." He said and instinctively went to hold my hand that rested on the table but stopped himself and looked away, frustrated. "I want to do it but it hurts." He mumbled, looking down. "What?" I questioned, pretending I didn't understand that it had to do with him making a physical contact with me. He ignored and looked up, continuing the topic.

"We all have a bad past. No one sees you as weak or anything like that-" He started talking but I couldn't handle it. "Just, don't please. Whatever you heard, my truth is the one that counts." I said and continued as Jiyu sent me a worried glare. "There are a lot of different truths. Everyone has their own, so if you at least care about me like you show, you shouldn't listen to their truth before I tell mine." I said. "Do you really care that much about what I think?" He questioned and in the spur of the moment I answered, immediately regretting after. "Yes. No. No. I mean-no." I said and shut my eyes, the frustration taking over me. "Stop making me confused." I said as I stared into his eyes. "Everything was stable and good with me before you came." I said and got up, ready to leave. "I know it wasn't." He whispered, talking about the rumours he heard. "Fuck you, rat." I spat out and started walking out of the art room. I walked down the hallway and was stopped by my therapist.

"Jia. Time for a talk therapy session." He warmly spoke, not knowing how frustrated I was. I sighed and quickly answered. "I don't want to talk." I said. "I'll take the fucking meds and we can talk tomorrow, okay?" I rudely added and started walking past him. "Jia. That's not a way. If you want to talk-" He tried to speak but I cut him off, finishing his sentence. "You can drop by my office, I know. I'm feeling fucking amazing and I don't need the talk right now." I sarcastically spoke and made my way to mine and Taehyung's shared room. I walked inside and walked around in slight nervousness I felt. I took off his pure sweater, his scent being too much for me to handle at that moment.

I put on a black t-shirt and a light grey cardigan over it. I folded his sweater and kept it in my hands, trying to savour the softness of the material and Taehyung's scent that broke oxygen barriers. I pressed so close to my chest and enjoyed a few seconds before getting ready to give it back to him.

I was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Taehyung, and he was known for not knocking. It was a flaw of his, but right at that moment it was a precaution to not piss me off.

I immediately walked to him as he entered. I stood close yet focusing on keeping him comfortable, because even when I was furious I couldn't hurt him like that.

"Here." I hurriedly spoke. "Take it back." I motioned with my hands, keeping the knitted sweater gently in my hands. "No." He said in an absurd tone. I assumed he was talking about me wearing it, therefore making it dirty. "For fuck sake, I'll wash it, alright?" I said but he immediately answered. "It's not that." He slightly giggled but immediately turned his facial expression to a more serious one. "Then what?" I asked, trying to drag the amswer out of him. "It keeps you warm, I'm not gonna take that away." He said, which made me lower my arm, holding the sweater in one of my hands. "So even after you heard what you've heard, you still want me- I mean, still, like, care about me?" I asked as he slightly smiled as I tried to change the question. "Only because I know you wouldn't like me after I'd told you about my past." He said and gulped. I furrowed my eyebrows in a confused manner. "It's not that bad." I said, comparing the two of us. "I'll tell you, but before that, give me some more time. Time with you." He said as I felt myself blushing, but stopped it and started speaking. "How are you not mad at me for saying all the stuff just a few minutes ago." I questioned. "I'm used to it. I know that wasn't you. And it never is you, actually. You're very easy to read, even if you hate that thought. That was just one of your...ways, let's say." He said as I furrowed my eyebrows, sighing and giving up to prove something that wasn't heading to a point in any way. "Angry when I'm right?" He asked in the same tone he did when we were in the art room. "Very." I said, this time in a slightly brighter tone. "I'm sorry I can't hug you right now or something. Still haven taken my meds to even force myself to do that." He excused himself so innocently to which I chuckled. "You know how to ruin a moment." I said and walked to my bed, putting the sweater down. He walked to his bed, on the opposite side and accidentaly stepped on a daisy that fell out of the vase. "Oh-no." He said and kneeled down, trying to see if it was hurt.

A sudden feeling of warmth and careness spread across my chest as I observed how cute Taehyung was, picking up the trampled daisy. "It's just a daisy, Taehyung." I giggled. "I don't want them to dissappear and die so quickly." He said and put the daisy in the tissue he had on the night stand. "You have plenty." I pointed to which he shrugged, not wanting to explain what he was thinking. He sat on the bed and stared up and down the room in silence before he turned to me and locked his gaze with mine.

"Will you tell me what's your truth?" He asked, talking about what I said in the art room. "Will you tell me yours?" I asked back in the same tone. "Soon. You?" He quickly spoke back. "Soon it is." I said and turned my back to lean against the wall.

•••

Just when I thought I wouldn't be forced to talk about my feelings, or try to desperately avoid it, the support group was rescheduled for tonight. I was forced to listen, but my medication made me sleepy, so I spent every few seconds yawning and trying not to be so bored out I might fall asleep. "Jia." The support group therapist, Sejun, was trying to shake me awake. "Jia." He repeated, to which I only half opeend my eyes. "Ji. Wake up." Taehyung's soft voice sent electricity up my back, shaking me awake. "Don't call me Ji." I quickly spoke, cursing myself for stopping him to call me by a nickname. He smiled and looked down. "What?" I asked Sejun. "It would appear to be your turn." He said as I rolled my eyes. "Nothing new in my life." I lazily said.

"No, Jia. Tonight is a different topic. It's about compliments." He said and warmly smiled, trying to get me to lighten my mood too. "Someone in the room must compliment you and you must compliment them. Then you can describe what that compliment feels like." He explained. "That's dumb-" I tried to make fun but he stopped me. "Would you like to start?" He interrupted me. "Can I recieve a compliment first?" I asked, teasing like a child would. He slightly sighed. Taehyung hungrily stared at me. "Alright, fine." Sejun ageeed. "Everyone, who would like to compliment Jia?" Silence. It is true that compliments are helpful and nice, but when you hear it from someone you're dying to hear it from, it makes a small meaning to your seemingly meaningless existence. You feel as if you were supposed to be right there, in that moment for that person to catch a detail you own. Or to catch a charm you confidently carried. Maybe I was dying with desire to hear a detailed compliment from Taehyung. Like this. When I would know he is being serious. When Taehyung noticed no one was speaking, he opened his mouth to talk, making my heartbeat change. But he was cut off by someone else. Out of all the people, it was Minjee. The girl I stole pink earmuffs from to make her panic. "I- I like the white sweater you-you wore today." She timidly spoke. "Thank you." My voice synchronized with Taehyung as our eyes immediately met. Everyone looked with confusion plastered all over their faces. "It's not my sweater."."It's not her sweater." We both answered at the same time, chuckling a bit. Some of the girls that were looking at Taehyung with awe were now analysing every single of his and mine movements. They all carried a judgemental and a jealous expression. All the girls were falling hard for Taehyung. And I couldn't really blame them. But Taehyung ignored all their attention and seemed to be obsessed with getting only my attention, whether it was good or bad. Or he tried to be my reaction to the obscurities he says to make me shocked. I couldn't decide really.

Taehyung giggled at me and kept his gaze onto me as I tried not to smile. As the others started speaking, I was all he was focused on. I tried to ignore it, but every time I would casually glance at him, he still looked at me the same way. And It's a nice way to look at someone. It's a nice feeling.

•••

Completely exhausted from my medication and the boring support group talk, I threw myself onto the bed once I finally reached the room. Taehyung got inside, following me. With half closed eyes I saw him closing the door with his napkin and putting it back in his pocket. Thinking I was fully asleep, he started to take off his clothes to change into his pajamas. I saw his tanned back in the corner of my eye and almost found myself letting out a weird noise once I realised he was just in his underwear. Ever since Taehyung came, I always thought he was handsome. He really did enter any room full of charms and good looks. Taehyung's pretty and big hands fascinated me ever since I layed my eyes upon them. Seeing his back made me adore another side of him. I hoped there were many more as I fought the massive urge to drift off to sleep.

Taehyung walked to the bed as I blacked out for a second, stepping a border between sleep and what seemed a reality. I felt myself falling asleep up until I felt a soft voice coming from Taehyung on the other side of the room. "Jia." Taehyung whispered, stepping closer to me. I lazily opened my eyes and felt slight dizziness and tiredness as Taehyung was sitting on the corner of my bed. "I can't sleep." He spoke, his voice completely calm. I opened my eyes and stared him down. I observed the way he so easily and comfortably sat on my bed, like it would be his hundredth time doing so. "Why? Is something wrong? Did you take your meds?" I questioned. He moved closer to me. "I did. I think that's what's letting me do something and not caring." He spoke and leaned fairly close to me, brushing the tips of his fingers against my arm. I moved away, but Taehyung went for my bare upper arm again, my cardigan falling down to my elbows as I sat up. "Rat, what are you doing?" I soflty whispered and moved my arm away. "Please, while I don't care, let me do this." He spoke and reached for my arm with his big tanned hands again. "Are you sure?" I asked in a scaredy and worried tone. "The way you stared me down at the support group made it a sure decision for me." He whispered and nodded as he placed his hand onto my bare arm again. He let out a few soft grunts and quickly breathed in and out as he was softly stroking my arm. His skin was so soft, pure and felt incredibly untouched. "Are you okay?" I worriedly asked, worrying about his mental fragileness. "It feels great." He chuckled at sudden comfort. In the spur of the moment I reached for his lips and he instinctively brought his down to mine. His lips were soft, incredibly soft and unkissable for years, the same way mine were. I felt the vivid softness of his plump lips as I couldn't ignore the small winces of discomfort and slight pain.

"Are you-" I tried to check if he really was fine but he cut me off, not wanting me to worry about it. "I'm okay." He said and started kissing me again. He placed his fingers onto my neck and pulled me closer to him. I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down, making him hover over me. "Can I touch you?" I asked in a very timid tone. He immediately nodded and took my hand in his and placed it onto his neck. He tried to relax into my touch, feeling a bit tense. I wanted to ask him about it again but he was quicker. "I'm good." He spoke and hungrily kissed my lips. I breathed out a moan and leaned closer to him. Both of us dying for air, we kept getting closer to each other, making our bodies touch and rub with slight movements. I slid my tongue into his mouth and he gladly accepted it, letting it wander inside his mouth. He pulled me closer as I felt his hard erection poking my thigh. I softly moaned, feeling my heat dripping in arousal. "You want to-?" I questioned him, rolling my hips that caused to rub into his hard member. "Aah, fu-yes. Jia. Please." He groaned and I went in to eagerly kiss him. I pulled off his pajama shirt and bottoms and looked down at his painfully strained member that tried to like out of his underwear. He took off my shirt and started kissing my chest as I helped him take my bottoms and underwear off. Taehyung lowered himself down to my abdomen and started kissing down. He licked a stripe up my wet heat and inserted a finger inside. I grabbed him by his neck, to which he arched his back in sudden contact. Taehyung's fingers worked me up like they have been experienced for years. His tongue was toying with my clit as I couldn't hold back my moans. "Ahh, Taehyung." I moaned as I looked up to the ceiling. He began sucking on my clitoris ad curling his fingers in a steady pace. His voice mumbled out a few pure moans, sounding high pitched and sensitive to my touch on his neck and his tongue on my heat.

I felt his fingers grip my hips and the other ones filling up my core completely. His skin was pressed against mine, and his soft hair was touching my abdomen. But in that extremely vivid reality and arousal I realised that one thing was missing. As I felt a sudden wave of pleasure hit me, I threw my head away, looking to my right. One thing was missing for this all to be real.

I widened my eyes.

There were no daisies on his side of the room.

part 7

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