#gonna try to write one more fic and upload that before bed <3

[gowonders]

forgive me ♥ h.k + k.th

huening kai x vamp!reader x taehyun

notes : 1/2 halloween works done!! 😓 i kinda didn’t wanna upload this, but if it’s what gowonder nation wants it’s what gowonder nation gets! ummm honestly this may or may not be worse than the choi line fic… idk my writing has been so bad lately!! i’m so sorry!! 🥹 and yes, i brought in spoiled taehyun here ;3

minors dni with this!

warnings : read this over once.. , english isn’t my first language, fem reader, mean/hard dom hueka, mean/hard dom taehyun, mild cursing, vampire doing vampire things (basically marking..), unprotected sex, (please wear a condom omg.) reader wears crop tops, bulge kink, degradation (needy, slut..), orgasm denial, oral (f rec.), hair pulling, double penetration, mentions of spit kink( kai spits in readers mouth like once), taehyun is really strong so like.. mentions of bruising!!, lmk if i missed any !

you may or may have not been lying to your best friends.

sure, huening kai and taehyun were understanding when you explained the whole “i can’t go out in the sun much, i get sunburnt super easily” thing, but your fangs?? (the ones everyone found cute??) you just always said “oh, they’re just my vampire teeth!” and everyone just assumed you were kidding.

you really weren’t.

and your friends soon found out the truth.

you, huening kai and taehyun were all gathered at taehyuns place, and it was just you all gathered in his room, sitting on his bed, scrolling on your phones. which was just a way you bonded, even if it was a little unconventional. the silence was soon broken by taehyuns loud groan and him flopping against his bed. “i’m sooooooooo hungry guys. give me a sec, i’m gonna come back.” and with that, it was just you and kai.

maybe you didn’t notice it, but you had been squirming and not-so-subtly biting on your lip the whole time you guys were together, but kai did. “yn, what’s going on with you? you’ve been acting a little weird, are you that hungry?” he laughs, he knows that’s probably not it, but something is going on.

and that was your absolute need for blood, you really really tried so hard to hold back, but it was so hard for you.. “um. it’s nothing, i’m probably just hungry, yeah!!” you laugh awkwardly, laying back on the pillow behind you, and you can’t help but just keep your eyes on his neck, unmarked and flawless, and how perfect it’d be if you could just.. taste him. you were close enough.. maybe you could just., sneakily sink your teeth in? maybe kai wouldn’t mind.. he’d understand? for his friend?

“yn what the fuc-“ last words he said before your sharp fangs sink into his neck, whispering a “forgive me” before doing so, and a soft whine from you goes against his neck. and kai can’t say he’s not into it.. a broken groan is heard from him, and you dig your nails into his shoulder at the sound.

the moment is interrupted by huening kai lightly hitting your shoulder, trying to pull you off his neck. “y-yn,” but he gets cut off by taehyun, who’s about to drop the snacks he gathered for you guys. “what is going on here…..?” he asks, jaw slack and cheeks flushed in shock. as soon as you hear that almost condescending voice, you pull off, all teary eyed, he just tasted sooo good, and you wanted more. and your eyes snap to meet taehyuns darker ones, but all you can do is give him wide eyes and stutter.

“is our yn.. actually a vampire? who would’ve guessed?” he smirks, practically throwing the food onto his desk and walking over to stand over you. “may i?” he asks, not really letting you respond as his thumb enters your mouth, prying it open so he can see your fangs, his finger tracing around your teeth. “how cute.” he mocks, pulling his thumb away, but not before smudging the excess blood along your lip.

“guys.. it’s n-not what you think-“ you say, face warm with embarrassment. but taehyun cuts you off. “yn, really? because i think i know what it is. hueka, what do you think, should we punish her? she did ruin your perfect skin.” he laughs, eyes drifting over to his friend. “taehyun.. i don’t think that’s necessary.. like- i’m sure she just had to do it.. it’s fine, really..” he says, hand cupping over his neck, “mmm. no. i think we should. yn, go clean the little mess your needy self made, yeah?” his hand gestures toward kai who’s trying to not get blood on taehyuns (presumably expensive) sheets.

you whine with embarrassment as you move back to kai, moving his hand away from his neck, and with a shaky breath, you run your tongue along the wound, cleaning up the leftover blood you couldn’t get, and this practically flips a switch in kai. his large hand starts to pet your head as your clean him up, and in a quiet voice, he mutters to you; “you’re doing so well, yn.”

you pull away, and taehyun, who’s still standing over you, puts his hand on your back, leaning to your ear. “you okay with this?” he asks, you nod, and when you do, he asks the same to kai. “are you?” “mhm-“ hueka responds. “good, because i reallyyyyy wanted to see my best friends fuck. you’re at my house after all. so we do what i want, right? so kai, fuck yn?” taehyun says.

you hated how spoiled he was growing up. sure, it was nice when you didn’t really have money at the mall so he’d buy you some food, and you got a hell of a present for your birthday, sure! but he expected that he got everything he had ever asked for. and everyone obliged..

which is why taehyun is sitting in the corner of his room, on a chair, eyes laser focused on kai pinning your wrists to the bed. “that’s probably a good idea, kai. you don’t know, she could get needy again, keep her in her place…” he says as he snickers, and your face heats up in embarrassment even more, and kai rolls his eyes before smiling at you and mouthing “sorry.”

his hands trail down your body, stopping at the skin that shows from your cropped shirt, thumb caressing your stomach slightly before his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down easily, his eyes dart to your panties. “yn, no way you have a little bow on your panties, you little tease! have you been planning this, huh?” kai mocks, finger rubbing over the small ribbon on the waistband. you just whine in response. “soooo needy, jesus. just fuck her already, kai.” you can hear taehyun groan from across the room, but huening kai does just that. quickly pulling his own pants down, and having his length positioned between your legs.

he inserts you slowly, as to not hurt you, making sure you’re okay before he starts to actually move, a small gasp leaving your lips once he does so, which makes taehyun and kai both chuckle. your eyes travel from kai to taehyun, and he’s just watching you two, and palming over his pants.

however, your attention gets sent back to hueka as he taps on your cheek. “look at me.” he says. “taehyuns not fucking you, i am.” slight jealousy could be heard in his voice, and if that wasn’t apparent to you, it definitely could be seen in the way his pace became ruthless almost immediately, making you let out a broken whimper. “don’t complain yn, im- we’re gonna punish you. like we said. maybe if you didn’t keep acting out, i would actually take my time with you, but needy girls like you don’t deserve that.” kai say, taking a hold of your hips and using the leverage to fuck into you harder, leaning his head back and groaning at the way your walls clamp down on him as he does so.

after a bit, kai takes a hold of your hand, squeezing it, before bringing it up to your stomach and putting it on your stomach, making you feel him through it. his hand is on top of yours, thumb running over your knuckles as he keeps your hand there. but seriously.. all you can do is whine in response. “i did not fuck you enough for you to be acting all stupid on me.“ kai says, rolling his eyes as he fucks into you at an even quicker pace than before, making you cry out in pleasure. “k-kai….! i’m close!!” you mumble. “oh? so you can say that but not anything about how grateful you are for this? what a slut.” kai chuckles, and just before you reach your high.. he pulls out. which pains him too.. but he knows that’s not all he’s going to get from you. “huekaaaaaa.. why..??” you whine, and he just scoffs, pumping his length over you before white ribbons on seed lay over your stomach and cunt.

“sorry. you were acting too good for this, had to punish you.” he sighs and shrugs, looking back at taehyun. “you wanna clean her up, taehyun?” he asks, and taehyun almost jumps out of his seat, and stands next to kai, admiring the little mess he made of you.

“did so good, kai.” he smirks, making kai laugh a little before taehyun positions himself between your legs, starting to lick up huening kai’s seed from your tummy, then slowly kissing down to your core, a low laugh leaving his lips as he inserts one finger in you, making you shiver, before he connects his lips to your cunt. broken whines leave your lips at this. “too much!! please, let me rest—“ you plead, but taehyun starts to use his tongue in you, along with his fingers, which really shut you up. “i was getting tired of hearing her whine, thanks tyunnie~” kai laughs, even if you were getting practically ruined before him, he couldn’t stop joking at anything.

your thighs close around taehyuns head in a weak attempt to get him to wait a bit, but this just spurs him on, using two fingers instead of one, and now using his tongue to rub at your clit. it doesn’t help that you were so close before, so the way you have to hold back is crazy, and taehyuns rough pace is definitely contributing to how you’re just about to break.

“taehyun.. pleasee-“ you whine, back arching off the sheets as your fingers lace through his hair, grabbing and pulling at it. “yeah yeah, fine.” he says in a rushed voice, he was gonna be the one to make you finish first, not kai. but like everything in his life, he got alot of things first. and this was going to be one of them.

and with that, your riding out your first high of the night against your best friends face. because he wanted it. he gets whatever he wants.

after that, they let you rest for a second.. not like they want to stop, but they know you’re probably a little out of it. letting you lay in taehyuns lap as huening kai strokes your hair. taehyun stares into the wall for a second, hand caressing your back before he speaks dryly. “hey yn.. i kinda wanna match with hueka, you’ll do that for me? pleaseeee?” without thought, you’re sitting up on taehyuns lap, his thigh slotted between yours.

your shaky breath goes against his neck, and taehyun has a wide grin on his face, looking at hueka, who looks almost nervous for him. you were not gonna deny the fact you still wanted to do it, but something about piercing him gave you more guilt than doing it to kai.. whatever. he wanted it.

you sink your fangs into taehyun, a hushed “fuck-“ leaving his lips as you feed on him, he was literally perfect. even if he was an asshole sometimes.

“o-okay.. yn.. i think i-it’s okay…” he mumbles? stroking your head, slowly trying to pull you off, making you whine in disappointment. “did you clean me up, yn?” you nod, sitting on your knees as you wait for something, anything else. taehyun motions huening kai over, whispering something just quiet enough so you couldn’t hear. of course. hearing taehyun snicker and kai sigh with a smile and wide eyes.

however, you soon find out when you’re placed between the two, and you look up at kai, who’s infront of you. “huh…?” you say, tilting your head as taehyun pressed his hard on against your ass. “well, we couldn’t decide who got to use you next.. so if you’re cool with it, could we both?” taehyun says. “even though it should just be me, technically.. i feel nice enough to share, right?” he mutters under his breath, waiting for you to respond. “s-sure.” you mumble, hiding your face in kai’s chest, making him chuckle. “noooo, keep your eyes on me.”

soon enough, you can feel them both prodding at your entrance. “guys. no way.” you mutter, you could barelyyy fit kai, no chance you could fit them both. “we’ll make them fit. cmon.. for me?” taehyun says, caressing your thigh as he kisses your shoulder. but, he always gets what he wants, huh? “yn, we’ll go sooo slow, if it’s still okay?” kai adds, giving you the most trusting smile he can, because in all honesty, he wasn’t too convinced, either. he didn’t really want to have to wait on taehyun though.. he doesn’t have his patience.

you sigh shakily. “alright…it’s fine.” you whine. you’re still kindaaaa prepped from earlier, but you feel someone’s fingers starting to enter your core, scissoring his fingers for good measure, before they pull out, and taehyun decides to slide into you first, a groan leaving his lips as he does so, and once you’re okay with it, he slowly moves in and out of you, just to prep you more. “okay… relax. kai’s gonna go in, okay? tell me at any point if it gets too much.” taehyun whispers, kissing your shoulder once more. with that, you can feel kai start to enter you so slowly, and you feel so full. a broken whine leaving your lips at the feeling of being stuffed by the two, and taehyun and kai are faring no better, taehyun groaning at the foreign feeling of kai’s cock sliding up against his, and kai letting out small whines at how your walls are basically sucking him in.

taehyun chuckles, still kinda too lost in how this all feels to actually move, but he’ll never not find a reason to tease someone. “kai, you’re whining more than our cute little slut right here, you’re more needy than her at this point..” he says, a smirk on his face as he studies the only face he can see, kai’s. who’s lips fall to a flat line as he sighs, looking away from taehyun to meet your eyes. at least he could see your pretty face, which totally made up for taehyuns teasing.

without warning, taehyun thrusts up into you, a groan leaving his lips, and that causes kai to mirror his movements, both of them taking a second but they finally match up enough to where it’s not awkward, and from there, it’s pure bliss. the way you feel so full and it’s a dull pain, but it’s a good one, and the way all of your sounds fill taehyuns very expensive room.. it’s almost too good to be true. there is no way you just got all of this.

your legs tremble from the sheer pleasure you feel, the way they stretch you out in the best way possible, and how good they sound to you. you have to hold onto huening kai’s shoulders to keep yourself up, and he weakly laughs, thrusting into your core with a harsh pace. “can you not keep yourself up? huh? we fucked you stupid already?” kai taunts. “most of the other girls i use like this take it so much better than you did.. so needy but you can’t even take us? pathetic.” taehyun adds, a grin on his face, taking the opportunity to speed his pace up even more, and the way his hips snap into you, you swear it’s gonna leave a bruise.

“not gonna use that mouth to answer us? only gonna use it to make those useless whines?” kai says, tilting his head at you. you shake your head, eyes squeezed shut so you can try and focus, but it’s almost no use. his fingers trace your lip, “open” he commands, and you comply, opening your mouth, and his fingers reach to your fangs, pricking his own finger with them before he spits in your mouth, making you feel inexplicably weak. “swallow, you’re not gonna use your mouth for anything else, right? might as well.” he says, an evil grin forming on his face as he watches you squirm, swallowing his saliva.

”jesus— kai….” taehyun says, gripping your hips even tighter, whichll probably also leave bruises. “stay fucking still, yn.” he pulls your head back by your hair, making you look back at him. “didn’t do all of this just to have you be all whiny and squirm like you don’t like it, if you didn’t, you’d tell us, but instead your moaning like some needy slut.” he rolls his eyes, his tip starting to abuse the weak spot you have, making you let out a staccato scream of pleasure. “p-please!!! so close!!” you beg, just to get ignored, but they share a look, maybe, just maybeeee they’ll let you cum.

as you get even closer, your pleas become incoherent. they definitely fucked you stupid, but they’re finally gonna reward you. “you wanna cum, yn?” taehyun asks, still pounding you as fast as ever, as kai whines in pleasure too, he’s really so into this, too. “yes!! please, tyunnie!! please!!” you beg, leaning your head back so your eyes meet his. which moves him enough to sigh and groan. “okay.. you earned it, yn.” making kai snap his eyes open, finally getting to watch you unravel on his length, and that’s all you needed.

your climax hit you hard, cries of pleasure leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, velvet walls fluttering around the two as they help you ride out your high, your release triggering theirs, loud groans and whimpers bouncing throughout the room as they paint your walls white.

they pull out of you, and you clench around nothing as their seed drips out of your core.

“oh, shit, taehyun your sheets are gonna be ruined.” kai says, trying to catch his breath slightly as he laughs.

“you don’t think i’ll just buy new ones?” he asks, and his tone is serious… you cannot with this man,

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

happy october~ ♥ this is definitely one of my least fav works, but i hope you guys like it!

#gowonder: writes #gowonder: smut #taehyun x reader #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun imagines #huening kai x reader #huening kai hard hours #huening kai hard thoughts #huening kai smut #huening kai imagines

[silverskull]

What made you start writing fanfic?

MS QUESERAONE

These asks do not always appear on my phone, and it sometimes takes me loading coal into the engine of my laptop and then navigating to tumblr dot com to find them...

I started writing (terrible) fic as a teenager back in my Stargate SG-1 days, because I fell in love with Sam and Jack, and had only recently discovered that you were allowed to imagine scenarios in your head and not just say your prayers when you went to bed at night. (I also had a brief Pokemon phase, but I’m not gonna even bold that one.) That fic all disappeared in a Blue Screen of Death home PC crash back in the day, and I gave up on investing effort into digital files until I had a more reliable backup plan. Despite that, I recently discovered (and discarded, with love) pages of A4 notes I wrote in secondary school that were actually just Harry/Hermione or Sam/Jack fic starters. Love the dedication - in fountain pen, no less! - from teenage me!

After college, cue LiveJournal! And Fringe! And community fic prompts! I loved it so much. I definitely wrote 3 solid fics for Peter and Olivia back then, but I was very at sea in real life, and I didn't keep it up. I uploaded them to AO3 in recent years, and I’m glad they’ve been saved for posterity. That show was very important to me too.

After LiveJournal died/sold out to the Russians, I gave up once again, and didn't even really read fic in any of my following fandoms. But then came The Pandemic, and Lockdowns, and lots and lots of time to rewatch my favourite shows, and my brain decided to fixate on The Rookie and Lucy and Tim. I am not sorry. I was struck with the disease and forced to stay at home and go on my little mental health 2.5km walk loops, and my mind started to suggest that I could write fic again. That I'd done it before. That the brain pictures could meld into a story, and that fic archiving (with the advent of AO3) was a lot more reliable.

So, a few lockdowns later, along came "In the Hole Together", a spec-fic for 422 that was founded on fan-detectivery and paracetamol. And when people actually got interested, I thought this was something I might be able to do.

AND THEN THERE WAS ACTUAL 422.

And "Roots Won't Keep Me Warm" was born.

I've never ever written something so long, so detailed and so intense, and it became a personal challenge as much as a dedication to the readers that were following along. The only two rules I've set for myself since then are 1) Don't try to use song lyrics as titles anymore, Sil, and 2) Always finish a multi-chap.

The way my brain operates, I can only work on one fic at a time, so I never have written WIPs hanging around (though I have many, many head-plots, and some of them are even stored as bullet points in a google doc...). I hope that the one thing I will always do is finish out a fic to its conclusion, as it is absolutely an undertaking I most appreciate in the authors I love.

I had some extra time this (northern) summer (personal reasons) to devote to ChenfordWeek and finish my second Big Long Fic ("Shadows of Deception"), but it hasn't been sustainable since then, and it makes me very, very sad. I have been so harassed and harangued with real life, that I could barely even Do Imaginations for Chenford, and - to be frank - that has been critically depressing. It always has for me, since the days of SG-1.

I love writing fic, and I hope never to turn it into a job rather than a hobby, because that has never worked out well for me in the past. That said, I have you, Ms @queseraone, to thank for getting me to sit down and face the music this Christmas/Winter/Holiday season, and actually write some new Chenford content. And it is h a r d. It is hard to do the thinking and the linking and the typing. It is hard to find the time and the will and the motivation. It is hard to have a plan and then another plan and then discard it all when you actually sit down to type. But I am really happy to be doing it. I really am. 

And I can’t wait for @chenfordsecretsanta to arrive, and to share in the joy of a whole batch of new fics in our little fandom! To have something to look forward to that is closer than February 20th. To have someone believe in me enough to persist in prodding and poking me into committing to this challenge.

So thank you. Thank you, and I love you, and I appreciate you.

💖

#fic #ask and answer #personal

[littleoddwriter]

Hiya! Your prompt list interested me and I would like to request you a Zsaszmask story with Dialogue Prompt n°5 "I wasn't sure your remembered me". Plot: During a fight with a rival gang, Victor gets knocked out and suffered amnesia. It hurts Roman who tried everything to help him. Angst+happy ending would be nice. I am sure it will be brilliant as always! Thanks in advance and have a nice day!

Remember Me | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hiya! <3 Thank you so much for this delightful request! It's totally run away from me, istg (it's over 4k words long, rip). I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it!

summary; see above.

notes; Angst with Happy Ending; Amnesia; Hospitals; Recovery; Mentions of Murder and Fantasies of it; Mentions of having been stabbed and shot; probably bad depiction of how hospitals and such work despite the medical dramas i've watched.

Stupid fucking rival gangs. He wished he could kill them all over again.

Stupid fucking Victor Zsasz. He was always so fucking loyal and protective.

Fucking hell!

Fuck!

Roman was fuming; his blood was still boiling, thrumming through his body in high speed, making him tremble. Although to be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was only shaking because of his rage. It might have also been caused by the fear that’s settled deep into his bones.

Fear! He, Roman Beauvais Sionis, the notorious Black Mask – scared! It was laughable, really.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Victor’s blood was all over his clothes.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Zsasz was lying on the hospital bed, wires and tubes attached to him, looking so lifeless.

Because yes, it was scary, indeed.

Roman thought even the cruellest people in the world would agree that the uncertainty of whether or not the person you cared about the most was coming back to you at all or not, warranted such feelings of fear. It was perfectly fine.

If only it didn’t feel so wrong.

If only he didn’t feel like ripping his own heart out, so he could make these emotions stop.

That’s one of the many reasons that he despised just how close he was to Victor, how close he let him get.

He’s always known that someday, he may as well lose him one way or another.

And then what?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

The strangest thing of all to him, in this very moment that he’s been sitting on the hospital chair next to Victor’s bed, was that he hasn’t left that spot even once so far. He was too scared to move. He felt as though the second his eyes left Zsasz’s shape, he would suddenly disappear. Because right now, he was still here. He was still alive, if only just barely, but he was still here.

He hadn’t even dared to change his clothes, the dried blood making them crusty and uncomfortable. It was disgusting and under any other circumstances he would have gone to change the second he had been out of danger.

Yet, here he was.

If only Zsasz knew just how much he actually cared about him.

Thinking about it though, he probably did. He seemed to know Roman better than he knew himself. Sometimes that scared him, but most of the time it only lit this raging fire inside him. He couldn’t stand the way he depended on this one person.

It was dangerous.

He couldn’t help himself, though. He’s tried before, but every time it led him right back to Zsasz. A strange pull kept hold of him, not letting him get out of Victor’s magnetic field under any circumstances.

Roman knew that Zsasz would probably say that it was some kind of fate thing. Destiny. They were meant to be together from the day they’d been born, only to wreak havoc on Gotham the way they’ve been doing ever since.

It was kind of charming, really, that Victor was so set on his theories about the universe. Sionis never questioned that Zsasz might have a point, considering that his purpose was to free all these birds from their cages, but he often failed to extent his belief in Victor’s theories to themselves.

Until now, at least.

The way he’s been feeling since Victor got knocked out, stabbed, and shot made him unsure of everything, now.

Because it truly felt as though with the very real notion of possibly losing his Victor, he’s suddenly felt so lost. Incomplete. It was as though with every action the rival gang’s taken, another part’s been ripped out of his body, his heart – his very soul.

It was absolutely horrific and now he could only hope that Zsasz would wake up again, without any permanent damages. He didn’t know what he would do if there were any at all. Would he rage? Mourn? Kill? He just hoped he’d never have to find out at all.

Several weeks later – fifty-six days, in fact – Roman sat in his chair beside Victor’s bed, like he’s done day and night since it had first happened.

Of course, he had changed out of his clothes after the first night, showered and slept, but he’s done it all in Zsasz’s hospital room. He didn’t dare leave him.

All business was done over the phone, or by meetings in Victor’s room. It wasn’t the most convenient situation. It also left him exposed, seemingly weak, and he’s made certain that they all knew that if they so much as thought of him as any less dangerous and cruel, they’d be dead faceless men. They seemed to have taken his threats seriously enough. At least nothing has come up so far.

After a while, Roman has started to hold Victor’s right hand in both of his, stroking his thumb over his palm, his wrist – tracing the only scar he found there. He even talked to him. The doctors have said that often times it helped to talk to a coma patient, that they’ve woken up earlier than expected – or at all – when they’ve been spoken to. So he had muttered about the incident that even got them there in the first place, but as time has passed, he just started talking about everything and nothing.

In rare moments of sentimentality, he’d even go on about how much he missed Victor, how scared he felt, even after weeks. Maybe especially because it’s been weeks – almost two months– now. He was so afraid that perhaps Zsasz wouldn’t wake up after all. The doctors have certainly never given him a clear answer.

Lost in his musing, he felt Victor’s hand, which has been still enveloped by both of his, twitch.

He immediately held completely still, not even breathing, as he looked at Zsasz curiously, expectantly.

“Zsasz?” he rasped, sounding so small to his own ears that he cringed internally.

The hand twitched again, fingers clenching and releasing around Roman’s hand.

“Victor, hey. Come back to me, hm?” he spoke softly, a nervous smile twisting his mouth upward.

After a few more moments, Victor’s eyes fluttered open. Slowly, he seemed to adjust to the bright lights in the room. Clearing his throat and groaning quietly, he sluggishly turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting Roman’s.

As soon as he had taken him in, Victor’s eyes widened.

Roman felt confusion coursing through him.

Zsasz looked – scared? Confused as well? He certainly didn’t look very happy to see Roman alive and well next to him.

“Who are you?”

The world seemed to stop around Roman; his heart was pounding, feeling it in his throat. He was kidding. He had to be.

“Excuse me?” Roman inquired instead, giving Zsasz a chance out of this uncalled for joke.

“Who are you?” Victor repeated, his voice still hoarse and broken, but louder. He looked so genuine, too.

An icy chill settled in Roman’s stomach, spreading through his entire body.

“Now’s really not the time for jokes, Mr. Zsasz,” Sionis reprimanded him, trying once more to make Victor react differently and say he’s only been kidding after all, before he called a doctor in panic.

But then Victor pried his hand out of Roman’s tight grip and said, “I’m really not joking, sir.”

Okay, maybe he really wasn’t, because Victor’s certainly never called him ‘sir’ outside of sex; even then, it was a rare occurrence.

Sionis took a deep breath and then leaned over to press the call-button, hoping the doctors – who were all on his pay roll, of course – would have an answer that was at least mildly satisfactory.

No such luck, though.

The doctors came in and asked Roman to step outside first, so they could check Victor over.

In front of his room, Sionis started pacing, running his hands through his hair in frustration, anxiety, and rage. He was trying so hard not to explode; it made him tremble all over again. He felt exactly like he had when they had first come into the hospital nearly two months ago.

This was just a really bad fucking nightmare. It had to be.

When the doctor and his nurses were done checking him over, they asked Roman back into the room. He’s kept his distance now, not daring to come any closer to Victor, his Victor.

“You said you don’t know who this is?” the doctor – whatshisname – inquired calmly, looking at Victor, but pointing at Roman.

“Yeah, no idea,” Victor replied, his voice started to sound clearer, which only made it so much worse for Roman when he couldn’t detect any underlying inflection that may have told him that this really was just a prank after all.

“But you do know who you are, correct? Do you know your name?” the doctor continued, looking at Roman, a hint of fear in his eyes. He hated it. He wanted to gouge them out, so he didn’t have to see the fear anymore. Instead, he just looked away, staring at Victor intently.

“I know who I am, yeah. Name’s Victor Zsasz.”

“Alright. Could you tell me what year we have, Mr. Zsasz?”

His brows furrowed, deep in thought, and then, “2002.” Fuck.

The doctor stopped short, Roman’s hands clenched into tight fists, the leather of his gloves squeaking audibly in the all too quiet room.

“I’m sorry to say it, but it is actually 2019. Do you have any idea why you’re in the hospital at all?”

Victor’s eyes widened again, just like when he’s spotted Roman for the first time a little while ago.

“That can’t be right. No, I don’t remember that. What the hell’s going on, Doc? What did you do to me?” The last part was directed at Roman, who felt as though his heart’s been stabbed, ripped out and stomped on with those words and the accusatory delivery of them.

“Mr. Sionis, I’d have to ask you to wait outside until I’m done here, please,” the doctor said.

Without another word and as if he was on autopilot, Roman let himself out of the room and sat down in the chair in front of it, burying his head in his hands. This couldn’t possibly be true. He had to wake up from this horrible nightmare, soon. He just had to.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back outside.

“Mr. Sionis, it looks as though Mr. Zsasz suffers from amnesia. It was most likely caused by the blow to his head.”

“But he’ll be fine, right? Amnesia is only temporary. Right?” Roman hated that he couldn’t hide the anxiety he felt, the utter dread.

“Not always. We’d have to do some more tests, CTs and such, to make sure. After that I can disclose more certain information to you. Would that be alright?”

Sionis sighed, frustrated, “Yes. Do whatever you’ve got to, as long as it’ll help bring him back to normal.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll go and order the tests right now. I’d suggest that you go home now. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got any new information, but it certainly wouldn’t do any good to confuse Mr. Zsasz even further now, when we barely know what’s really going on. Alright? I promise to be fast.”

“You better be,” Roman muttered and turned to leave the hospital, his driver waiting a couple of blocks away from it.

Normally, he’d have been raging now, throwing things, spitting into doctors faces, cussing them out – but he couldn’t.

He was in shock.

He could barely process the reality of what was even happening.

He felt so alone.

Two days later, in which he might’ve gone a little mad, really, his doctor finally called him. When he’s come in to see him, he’s told him that Victor did indeed only suffer from temporary memory loss. Unfortunately, such amnesia was quite unpredictable and it could be a few days, weeks, months, or even years until all memories were back.

Still, the good news were that the doctor has managed to warm up Zsasz to the idea of going back to living with Roman, after assuring him that it’s been this way for many years, now. To that Victor had first asked if he was gay, because apparently at that point in his life, Zsasz hadn’t had a clue about his sexuality, or that he could truly like anyone at all.

All of this was utterly ridiculous to Roman.

How can a person just lose access to such a big portion of their life, of their identity, essentially?

The same day that Roman’s received the news, he was also allowed to take Victor back home with him, already. Apparently his wounds had healed a great deal, while he’d been out, and so the rest could be done from home. Additionally, it’d be extremely beneficial to bringing his memories back if he was surrounded by things so familiar to him.

Roman hoped it worked fast.

“I had your old room prepared for you,” Roman commented when they’ve finally arrived back at the penthouse.

Victor was holding himself up with a hand on the wall. He hadn’t liked when Roman touched him and offered him to support him. Sionis couldn’t really find words for just how much he’s hated that.

“’Old room’? What’s with my new one?” Victor asked, almost looking like a caged animal, when their eyes met.

“Well, I had thought you wouldn’t want to sleep in one bed with me, right now,” Roman replied, hoping he’d catch on without needing him to spell it out for him.

Realisation dawned on him quickly, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Right.”

“Exactly. Anyway, so this is your room, there’s an en-suite bathroom, through that door,” Roman explained, showing Victor around. He was glad that he was such a natural at these things, it eased him a little, bringing back some much needed familiarity.

“Huh, compared to the shithole I used to live in, this is really luxerias.”

“Luxurious,” Roman corrected him without thinking.

“Uh-huh, whatever,” Victor just muttered darkly.

“Dinner will be ready at 6pm sharp. Until then you can- I don’t know, stay in bed, I suppose. If you should need anything, or you’re having an emergency you can either call for my staff, or me; whichever you prefer.” Fuck, Roman really hated just how much he cared about this asshole. He’d never do this for anyone else. If it had been anyone else, Roman would have dropped them – killed them – the second they had to have been rushed to the fucking hospital.

“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Sionis,” Zsasz said, gingerly sitting down on his bed.

“Just call me Roman, Zsasz.” Or boss, he added in his mind, but didn’t dare to speak it.

When he left Victor’s room, he stalked into his own, silent tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

He just wanted his Victor back.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Victor sat in his usual place at the head of the table, to Roman’s right, and he ate just like he always did – like a fucking pig. But he didn’t talk to Roman at all, even when he had tried to start up a conversation. Instead, he only side-eyed him, looking suspicious of him. It enraged Roman.

In the morning, Victor didn’t show up for breakfast.

After a few minutes of waiting for him to come, Roman got up to look after Zsasz. His first thoughts had been that perhaps something’s gone wrong and Victor died in his sleep, but when he opened the door to his room – after knocking first, of course, he wasn’t a savage after all – Zsasz glared at him so darkly that an unpleasant shiver ran down Roman’s spine.

So he didn’t try to force him out if he didn’t want to. His doctor had told him to give him time and be patient with him, so he tried his fucking best to do exactly that. It was really fucking hard, though. He hoped that Zsasz would at least appreciate his efforts properly, when he was all his again.

In the end, Victor hasn’t come out of his room at all that day. It was extremely frustrating to Roman, who proceeded to trash his own room at night, when it had all just come to a head for him. He didn’t care if Victor could hear him scream and throw things, destroying them.

The day after, Victor sat at the breakfast table first, to Roman’s surprise. Sionis didn’t say anything, even though he so desperately wanted to make a snide remark, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk of having Zsasz lock himself into his room, again.

“The doc said that showing me some things could jog my memory,” Victor rasped eventually, when Roman had been ready to get up and leave.

“I know. So you’re willing to do that?” He only received a nod in response.

For a moment, Roman mulled it over, thinking about what he could show Victor to help him remember his life the best and the fastest.

Then it hit him.

Zsasz didn’t remember him. Well, maybe he would if he saw Roman wearing his Black Mask in the club they’ve first met, when Galante introduced them to each other.

“Alright, I’ve got something to show you. I’ll just make a phone call and we could go, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Roman had made sure that Victor wouldn’t see him in the Black Mask until they were to re-enact their first meeting – only that this time they’d be all by themselves.

He really hoped this worked.

Roman told Zsasz to stand in the same spot he’s stood when Black Mask had first stridden in to greet Galante. Just like he’s done with Sionis since, he’d stood leaned against a pillar. Usually his arms would be behind his back, but it would put too much strain on the still tender wounds on his abdomen, so he just let them dangle at his sides. Roman felt a painful tug on his heart strings. He had missed seeing Victor like this.

“Wait here,” he instructed Zsasz, who just nodded.

Then Roman went back to the car and got out his Black Mask and put it on.

“If this doesn’t fucking work…,” he muttered gloomily, before he opened the empty club’s door to walk in, like he’s done all those sixteen years ago.

As much as he hated admitting it, he was lucky that the mask gave him such a sense of security and protection, so that whenever he wore it, he practically became a different person. It made it a lot easier to hold himself with all the extravagance and intent that he’s displayed over a decade and a half ago (and every other day before all this), too.

He watched Victor like a hawk as he marched up to him, and Zsasz’s gaze was just as sharp and piercing as was his.

Black Mask stopped right in front of Zsasz, only a few inches away. He tilted his head a little, and gruffly inquired, “Anything at all, Mr. Zsasz?”

Victor swallowed thickly; Roman could see the way his throat worked around it. Then his eyes widened again, just like in the hospital, but this time recognition lied underneath his sharp gaze.

“Black Mask,” he whispered, a grin spread on his face, showing off his two beautiful golden teeth.

Sionis inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t sure you remembered me,” he rasped, a soft, sad inflection coming along with it.

“I’m so sorry, boss.” Victor lifted his hands and cupped the mask with them, oh, so gently. He’s always known to be careful with it. Then he stroked his thumbs over the seams and the roughly textured leather, a wonder in his eyes that Roman’s missed seeing more than he’d ever dare to admit.

“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Zsasz,” Black Mask said, his voice strained from holding back. He didn’t know just how much Victor remembered now. They obviously haven’t been more than employer and employee from the get-go.

But fuck, he wanted to hold him close and kiss him so badly. It’s been far too long since and all the hospital stress has made him desperate for the assurance that Victor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Still, he just stood there, watching Zsasz marvel at his mask for a while. Victor’s always loved his mask, and Roman couldn’t ever deny him from admiring it, when it was such a boost to his ego as well.

When it felt as though fifteen minutes must have passed, Roman got a little impatient, though. Victor’s not said anything since and he needed to know what other memories he’s gotten back; so he asked, “What else do you remember?”

Zsasz’s eyes were glazed over a little, having gotten completely lost in his own little world.

Under the mask, Roman smiled.

“Hm, I remember the Bertinelli Massacre,” the way he talked – it was a testament to just how far away into his mind he’s just gone, his voice sounded so light, pondering, Roman loved it, “And I remember you coming to Galante afterwards and buying my contract from him. How I became your exclusive assassin and later right-hand man. I remember how nervous you were about opening the club after your parents had just kicked you out. I remember how ecstatic you were when it had all started to work out in your favour, the way it should have.”

He paused.

Roman almost thought that had been it. They would have to wait for everything else to come back, too. And then who knew how long it’d take?

But then Victor continued with a smile on his face, “I remember the first time we’ve gotten each other off after I freed someone for you. And how you avoided me afterwards for a little while, so angry that you’ve given in to your urges. Then I remember how we just went from there. How we share a bed now, even though you hated it so much at first, but you can’t sleep anymore when I’m not there. And I remember just how close you are to owning Gotham the way you were always meant to do.” Zsasz ended it by kissing the mask’s teeth, like he would do so often.

Roman’s breath audibly stuttered. He wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist, careful not to squeeze, just holding onto him gently.

“Take my mask off,” he commanded.

With a cute little pout, Victor did as he was told and gently took off Roman’s Black Mask, setting it down on the table beside them. As soon as he’s done that, Roman captured Victor’s pretty, plush lips in a searing kiss that conveyed all the emotions that have plagued him for almost two months then. Zsasz reciprocated it just as enthusiastically, cupping Roman’s face in his hands. They both groaned into the kiss.

Their mouths open, Roman immediately plunged his tongue into his partner’s mouth, tasting and exploring him again after so long. It may have been the most amazing and intoxicating thing he’s ever experienced.

After a couple of minutes, they separated, although their noses still brushed against one another, their lips just barely apart at all.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” Roman murmured, pressing another small kiss to Victor’s slack lips.

Zsasz smiled, “I know. I missed you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

“Shut the fuck up, it wasn’t your fault, ‘kay? I’m just glad you’re back and all mine again. You are, aren’t you, Victor? All mine?”

“I sure am, boss. All yours. Only yours.”

Roman smiled, kissing Victor once more, a relieved sigh leaving him. He was beyond happy he’s gotten him back. He truly had no idea what he would have done if that hadn’t happened. Those past two months had been the worst of his entire life, he was sure of it.

“Never do that to me again. You hear me?”

“Never. I promise.”

Reblogs > Likes! Support content creators, please! Thanks!

#tw hospital #tw recovery #tw amnesia #angst with a happy ending #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask fanfic #harley quinn birds of prey #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #mlm ship #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction #i cant believe this took me all day #i've sat on this for the past-- 8 or 9 hours #i sure hope it was worth it lol #gonna try to write one more fic and upload that before bed <3

[weichei-stubentiger]

Silver Moon Ch. 4

Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS   Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/OC

Words: 3,210    Chapters: 4/__   Language: English   Rating: Explicit   Warnings: Past trauma, violence, slow burn but the smut will hit hard, corny hybrid tropes (I will probably add to this list as I write)   Category: M/F

Notes: Hey! Finally got on ao3 so I will be posting this fic there, too. I’m just curious - do you guys prefer authors to post as soon as they can - right when the chapter is finished being edited, or do you prefer a more scheduled upload. The second way might have more time in-between the chapters but its more reliable. I’m an impatient reader myself, so I always prefer the authors do it as fast as they can. 

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Alina woke up to the afternoon sun shining in her eyes. She’d curled up in her sleep, bringing her legs up onto the bed, facing the hybrid at the end of the bed. She blinked at his sleeping form, amazed that she’d let her guard down so readily. 

Exhaustion will do that to you I guess. 

She took the opportunity to really look at JK. He still had his legs hanging off the bed, one arm behind his head and the other slung over his stomach. He looked so harmless. His lips were in a slight pout, and his eye lashes formed soft crescent moons across his cheeks. His hat had fallen off and lay above him on the bed, which allowed her to see his hair and fluffy black ears. The black hair shone brightly in the sun, some of the strands reflecting dark browns and reds. The silver strands stood out against the dark, swept up and to the side of his forehead. His half blond eyebrow peaked out under the bandage on his forehead. Some strange part of her wanted to reach out and touch it.

Now that she’d been able to rest, she reflected on everything that had happened the day before. How could her life have changed so quickly? She’d done her best to not think about hybrids, her family, none of it, for the better part of a decade. It had been hard at first, but she’d been little, and she’d encountered more pressing problems as she’d grown up in foster care. 

She’d have to face this like she’d faced everything else: keep her head down and push on until she had resolved the problem as much as she could. 

She needed to get up and ask Mina if she could borrow her car. They’d need it for shopping. Raising herself up quietly, doing her best not to disturb JK, she put on her slippers and exited the room. 

Looking across the living room, she could see Mina and Courtney talking in the kitchen. Hopefully Mina had told Courtney enough that Alina wouldn’t have to go through all of it again. 

“Leni! How are you feeling?” Courtney immediately asked when she saw Alina walking towards them.

“I feel a lot better. Did Mina fill you in?” Alina asked, taking a seat at the counter.

“Yeah, is the- is JK in your room?”

“mhm, he’s still sleeping. I think he’s going to need rest to heal.”

Alina could tell Courtney was trying to be sensitive with her. Courtney had always had a problem with Alina’s disinterest in hybrids, and having a friend that actually owned a hybrid would make her very uncomfortable, no matter the circumstances.

“Obviously I want to help in anyway that I can,” Courtney continued.  

“Thank you,” Alina smiled. She knew she could trust her friends to have her back, even if she felt bad about the position she was putting them in. 

She looked over at the clock. 5:00pm. They’d need to get going if they were going to get everything they needed.

“Hey if you need help paying for his stuff-“

“That’s ok,” Alina said quickly, adding, “I really appreciate it, but I have some money saved up. It’s no problem. I’m gonna go see if he’s awake. Maybe he’ll just want to stick around here and rest.”

Her friends agreed, reiterating that they’d do anything they could to help. They were worried about her, but that was to be expected. It was an uncomfortable situation, not to mention the mugging. 

She quietly re-entered her room, going over to the bed.

“JK” she whispered.

He made a startled noise, popping up. She moved away quickly.

“Sorry - I want to go get some stuff for you. You’re welcome to stay here and rest if you want to, but I figured you should have a say in some of the things we get.”

He grabbed his hat and put it back on his head, covering his ears. “I’ll go with.”

*****

Alina bought them food at a little ramen shop near the shopping district they’d driven to. She took out a pen and piece of paper form her bag.

“We’ll need a mattress for you,” she started jotting down a list, “we’ll try to find something comfortable, but I can’t splurge for a whole bed frame and everything. Maybe we can take turns using the real bed.”

“You realize I was sleeping in the park when we first met, right?”

Alina shot him an annoyed look and kept jotting things down.

“Comforter. Pillow. I have sheets. Slippers. What kinds of cloths do you have?”

“What I’m wearing. Another shirt. A sweater.”

“Ok, let’s get you another pair of jeans, some sleepwear, some shirts.”

Should she get him warmer stuff for the fall? Hopefully he wouldn’t still be around by the time it got colder. 

“I thought you were poor,” he said off-handedly as he slurped at his soup, clearly enjoying it.

“It’s fine, we’ll just get you enough to be comfortable until we find somewhere good for you. The thrift store should have some cheap shirts and sweaters and stuff.”

“Hm.”

Once they finished their food, they headed out, list in hand. They found a nice foldable floor mattress and the bedding JK needed first. The slippers weren’t hard to find, either. Alina tried to keep an eye one JK to gauge how he was feeling about the whole situation, but his face was as neutral as ever, mostly keeping his gaze down. 

He was wearing the black bucket hat he had been wearing the night before, which Alina was thankful for. She was worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from staring at his hair. 

She’d sent him off to look for socks and was a now stopped in front of packages of underwear.

Is it weird if I buy underwear for him? He can’t possibly have enough in that backpack.

She stood there awkwardly for a moment before grabbing few packs and tossing them in the cart. She’d got two pairs of sweatpants and a pair of pajama pants for him, as well. There wasn’t much else they needed in this store. She looked around trying to locate JK. She rolled the cart down a few aisles to where the socks were. Except he wasn’t there.

Ok, maybe he thought of something else he needed. Alina slowly rolled the cart down the aisles starting to get a panicky-tingly feeling. Why had she let him out of her sight so easily? She started speeding up, ready to call out his name when she came upon the gaming section. She’d almost breezed right passed him in her alarmed state. He stood with his back to her, observing one of the gaming monitors.

Alina let out a breath. She really needed to take a meditation class or something. 

“You like gaming?” she said, coming up next to him.

“hm”

Whatever, he didn’t need to tell her, she didn’t need to know.

She looked around. “Oh, they have phones. We should probably get you one.”

She went over to the display. She’d have to just get him a cheap flip phone, which wasn’t much better than what she had herself. She’d need to add him to her phone plan, too.

“Why would I need a phone?”

“We don’t have a home phone and I’ll need a way to contact you when I’m at work.”

“So I have to stay in the house all day while you work?”

Alina hadn’t even thought of that. He kept his gaze on the phones when she looked over at him. He was basically asking her how much freedom she was going to give him.

“JK…let’s revise our deal from before. I don’t feel like I’m in any position to police your where-abouts. I’m trying to repay you for helping me. You’re registered under my name, so all I ask is that you let me know generally where you are, and that you don’t do anything to jeopardize the balance of our lives right now. And I’ll agree to do the same for you.”

Finally he looked over at her, giving her a nod. It was better than nothing, so she nodded back and moved on. 

“I think we’ve got everything we need from this store. You want to head over to the thrift store?”

JK just nodded again and followed behind her through the check out. She almost grimaced at the number on the screen. No more eating out for a while. 

The thrift store had a good supply of T-shirts. Alina saw him eyeing an over-sized hoodie, so she grabbed that, too. Over all they’d managed to stay pretty much within the higher end of the budget she’d set for herself. 

By the time they got back home, they were already tired again. Courtney had made stir-fry and was willing to share, which Alina was endlessly grateful for. Mina was still out at work, so it was just the three of them eating together.

“JK, I just wanted to thank you for helping Leni the other night,” Courtney said as they started eating.

JK didn’t say anything. Alina watched him out of the corner of her eye. Was it just her or was even more quiet from this morning. Maybe he was realizing his own regret at saving her, since it essentially meant living in captivity. 

She tried to take her mind off JK and ease Courtney’s nerves by engaging in light conversation, talking about their shopping. But Alina’s heart wasn’t really in the conversation. She felt gross and her hands were still sore from falling on them the other night. And she needed a shower. Badly. She’d been on such a mission to get JK everything he’d need for his stay with them that it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Now that she thought of it, she really should have offered him a shower, too. 

“JK, do you want to take a shower while I do the dishes and set up your bed?”

“Sure.” 

Alina showed him to the bathroom again, giving him a towel and an extra toothbrush.

“You can use my products for now, they’re all in that corner there.” Maybe she should have got him his own shampoo. Hybrids had a superior sense of smell and the flowery stuff she had might be uncomfortable for him. He might also not want to smell like a girl.

“Thanks,” he said shortly, closing the door in her face. 

She went back into the kitchen to help Courtney clean up.

“So,” Courtney began hesitantly, “Mina told me he was unregistered.”

“Yeah”

“Do you know why?”

No, not for sure. And for some reason Alina really wasn’t ready to share her hunch, even with her friends. It was too traumatic, too strange. And too dangerous for JK.

“I don’t,” Alina replied. “If you feel unsafe though-“

“No. No, nothing like that”

“Courtney it’s ok to be concerned about a guy you don’t know living with us.”

“Alina all of us know this was the right thing to do. He doesn’t seem dangerous. He just seems sad. But I suppose if he was free before that would make sense.”

Alina disagreed. He did seem dangerous. But he also seemed sad. Renewed guilt started eating at her. Helping her had really messed up his life.

“Actually,” Alina said, “I was wondering. I need to find someone to register him. I know it will be hard because there is no one to really vouch for him, but saving me must count for something. You know people who might be able to give him a good life. Money, freedom, you know.”

“I mean, most of my close friends are against owning hybrids, though.”

That was true. Courtney was mostly friends with people who were considered radicals - people who wanted to outlaw hybrid ownership altogether.

“I know, but surely we can think of someone from school…or if we tell your more activist friends the situation…just keep it in mind, ok?”

Courtney smiled and agreed, and Alina decided to call it a night.

She’d just finished setting up all his bedding when JK came into the room. In just a towel.

Alina felt who whole face flush red.

“You know you’re living with girls now, a little modesty might be nice,” she grumbled.

“My clothes are dirty”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alina said, embarrassed. She rushed out into the living room and grabbed the bag with his new clothes in it.

She tried to keep her eyes averted as she handed him the stuff. When he was all hunched in his oversized hoodie he looked kind of skinny. But now, confronted with the wide expanse of his chest, she felt like he was twice as big as he’d been before. 

And he had tattoos. 

She hadn’t been able to see them before, and she hadn’t even noticed them at the hospital. He almost had a full sleeve up his right arm. They made him look scarier to her, made him look tougher. But they contrasted with his wet ears, which looked almost cute, surrounded by damp black curls. It made her heart beat faster.

Geez I need to get out more. I’m perving on my imprisoned house guest.

He wasn’t leaving the room, though. She’d turned her back to shuffle through some of the bags. Was he changing right behind her? 

He must have, since he walked past her in his new PJ bottoms to hang his towel next to hers on the door. 

“I think I’ll go take a shower, too,” she said. 

*****

When she came back in the room JK was already nestled into his bed, comforter pulled up to his ears. She’d changed into her pajamas in the bathroom, feeling better than she had in the past 24 hours. She sat down on her bed, looking back over at JK. His breaths were even. He was probably asleep. 

She lay back. It was one thing to fall asleep in the same room with him that morning, when they had both been asleep on their feet the moment they’d walk in the door. It was harder now. This was as close as she’d been to a hybrid, alone, in the past 13 years. Her mind wandered back to that night. Blood, screams, snarling. The little boy outside the closet door. 

Even if JK was the little boy from back then, he didn’t seem to recognize her. 

Why had he helped her in the park? Maybe that was just who he grew up to be. 

She closed her eyes, laying so she was facing JK’s back on the other side of the room. Maybe he’d grown up into a person who helped other people, just because it was the right thing to do. That would certainly make him different from the pack that killed her family. It would make him different from her, too. She knew she wasn’t brave. If she was brave, maybe she would have been able to fight those guys off herself. Certainly she wouldn’t be laying awake, scared of falling asleep next to the man who had done nothing but help her. The man she was indebted to. And she definitely wouldn’t be a little afraid of every hybrid she walked past on the street. 

She lay there, hating herself and her circumstances. 

*****

JK listened to Alina come in the room after her shower. She must think he was asleep, since she kept her footfalls quiet. 

What a strange girl. Sometimes he got the sense that she was really afraid of him, other times, it seemed like nothing could phase her. It was a strange situation they’d gotten themselves into in general. If he’d known all this would happened when he helped her in the park…

No, he would do the same thing again. Except he wouldn’t let that fucker get the drop on him. How did he let that happen? He supposed living on the street, evading detection as a hybrid, it had all begun to take a toll. In fact, this was the most food he’d had access too in a while. It was definitely the best sleeping conditions he’d had in years. 

He’d just enjoy it for a while, he decided. He’d figure out a way to run. He’d need to get the collar off first, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He resisted the urge to pull at it, as he’d been doing all day. He hoped it wouldn’t screw up this girl’s life too much when he left. It was nice of her to try to pay him back. A little crazy, maybe. Especially since she didn’t seem to like hybrids very much. Even odder was how she didn’t seem interested in knowing how he ended up unregistered. 

He sighed. He’d been watching her, that night in the park. He’d been sitting under that tree, unwrapping the protein bar he was having for dinner. He’d thought she was pretty. He’d thought she was doing something pretty stupid, walking through the park alone at night. Not as stupid as what he was doing, returning to this city. But he’d be gone in a few days. 

Then he’d seen those guys walking up behind her. 

He shook his head. Now he was laying in the same room as that girl, with a collar around his neck. Things could have gone worse, he supposed. 

Sleeping so close to someone else was new, too. On occasion he had run with other homeless hybrids, but contrary to propaganda, unregistered hybrids were becoming more and more rare. And anyway, he’d never really been able to trust anyone. It was typically every man for himself. And if anyone recognized him from his old pack…

He’d been on his own for a long time. That was unhealthy for anyone, especially hybrids. Even if he refused to believe in most of the social theories surrounding hybrids, it had started to wear at his heart, the isolation. And as strange and possibly misguided as this girl was, he trusted her to be respectful of him. Not like this girl was his new pack. Ha. No. But listening to someone else’s breath, someone who seemed uninterested in harming him or taking something from him, it was nice. 

He perked his ear a little to hear her better. Her breath was starting to even. She was probably close to sleep. He buried his nose in the comforter. It smelled like her detergent, which thankfully wasn’t too strong. 

Her scent, that was the only thing that had been bothering him. He hadn’t noticed it until he entered her room, where her scent was more concentrated. There was something subtle in it that was familiar and unsettling. The other smells of the house - the other girls, the detergent, the shampoo, the food - it all of it covered up something else that he recognized but couldn’t put his finger on.  

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[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 1! - for Sara [@bravadostyles], the ultimate muse. 

SOUNDTRACK:

Empire State of Mind - Jay Z.

Animals - Maroon 5.

Dopamine - Børns.

Word Count: 4,731.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Freshman Year. 

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City. 

“You’ve got that face on,” Claire said. 

“What face is that, Claire?”

“Your trademark ready-to-go-home face,” she giggled. “You tired?”

“Just a little,” you whispered, head resting on her shoulder, feet hanging off the bed. “Had a long day at rehearsal.” 

“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, if you wanna go, we can go. I’ll walk you home.”

“No,” you shook your head, and placed your hand on her arm. “It’s fine. I’m having a good time.” 

Soft music played through the small speakers on Jonathan’s desk, mixing in with the chatter of your friends. Everyone sat in different spaces around the room, some on the desk, some on John’s bed, and you and Claire rested on his roommate’s bed. Open solo cups of beer were scattered amongst the room. It was calm, chill, and then the door swung open.

“Yoooooo!” The entering voice rang, instantly earning a happy response from Johnathan, who hopped off his bed and ran towards the entrance. 

“Gube!” John exclaimed, arms open wide to embrace his friend. He always got a little touchy-feely when he was tipsy. “Where the hell you been, man?”

“Consider my good time ruined,” you murmured to Claire.

“Be nice, [y/n],” she responded, patting your leg. “Everyone’s having a nice time, don’t start anything.”

“Me? Me? I don’t start anything, I never start anything. It’s him who starts it. That di—“

“Hey, [y/n],” Matthew greeted, taking a seat beside John. “Hey, Claire.”

“Hey, Gube,” Claire smiled. She gave you a gentle nudge with her elbow. 

You rolled your eyes, “Hi, Matthew,” you reluctantly replied, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Aw, c’mon, that’s all I get?” Matthew teased. “What’s wrong, sleeping beauty? You tired?” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” you told him, finally looking over at him. He wore a white polo, paired with a busted pair of jeans and white converse with his mismatched socks poking out. On his chest sat his trademark gold chain, the medallion set in the center of his sternum. 

“Might be past your bedtime,” he shrugged. “Really. Might be better if you just left.” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “Why don’t you leave? We were perfectly fine before you got here.”

“Oh, God,” someone groaned. “Here they go.”

“John wants me here. I’m a little more fun than someone who falls asleep mid-conversation, so I can see why.”

“Matthew, why are you talking to me? Can you just pretend,” you waved your arms around. “Pretend there’s a wall here.” 

“Don’t mind her,” Claire interjected. “She’s crabby because she hasn’t started editing her project yet.” 

You gasped, “Why would you just announce that, Claire? I didn’t wanna be reminded of that.” 

“[y/n], you’re gonna be fucked if you don’t get that shit done. It’s due next week.” Another friend told you. 

You groaned, “Yes. I know that. But I’ve been killing myself practicing for the show every night. And when I finally sat down to start editing, I didn’t know how to work the damn software!” 

“You don’t know how to work EasyEdit?”

“No,” you sighed. “I missed class that day. I tried to learn on YouTube, and that confused me even more. So, I have since then given up.”

“Hm,” John hummed. “You know who’s really good with EasyEdit?”

“Who?”

“Gube,” John answered. This prompted Matthew to lift his head up at astronomical speed, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He taught me how to use it. He could help you, [y/n].”

“John...” Claire said. 

“What, Claire?” John replied. “[y/n] needs help and Gube can help. I’m just saying.” 

You cut your eyes over to Matthew, who was watching you, but he quickly turned away when you made eye contact. 

“You’re not clever,” Claire shook her head. “You’re nosey is what you are.” 

“Nosey?” You pipped, tapping Claire’s arm. “What do you mean nosey?” 

“I mean, if you and Gube just...” John said. “I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

“And stop arguing all the damn time,” someone added. “The shit’s annoying.”

Your jaw had been dropped since the word ‘fucked’ was uttered. You looked up at Claire who gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I-“ You stuttered. “I...never say that again, John! Ever. Ew!”

“Ew?” Matthew exclaimed. “You’d be lucky if I tossed you a bone.”

Your jaw dropped even lower, stunned by Matthew’s words. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” you muttered. “And this is who you want me to allow near my final project?” You directed at John. 

“Hey, if you don’t wanna fuck me, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Matthew taunted, biting his lip and tilting his head. 

“No. I don’t wanna fuck you! I also don’t want to spend any more time with you than I absolutely have to. So I will learn EasyEdit by myself.” 

“Okay,” Matthew shrugged. “You’re not gonna figure that shit out in time, but fine, princess. Be stubborn.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head in annoyance. 

“[y/n], let Gube help,” Claire said. “You’re gonna drive yourself insane with that and the show coming up, plus finals? Just this once.”

You looked over at Matthew, instantly getting angry again. Hate is a strong word. It’s a very, very strong word. And you’d never use it against anybody. Ever. Except Matthew Gubler. That may sound a bit dramatic, so to clear up any confusion, here’s a composite list of every asshole, dick, bastard, bitch-ass move he’s made in one semester:

1. Broke your editing equipment trying to do magic tricks in class.

2. Didn’t apologize.

3. Called your last documentary “uninspired, dry, a little like a lullaby.”

4. Took the last spot for an internship over Christmas break. 

5. Which he knew you wanted.

6. Refused to partner with you on a final project because “you can’t even get to class everyday.”

7. In front of everyone because he’s a jackass.

8. Told you that you were insane for majoring in film making AND ballet. 

9. Proceeded to tell you that you look better in a leotard than a suit.

10. Fucked your roommate.

11. While you were in the room.

12. Insisted that Wes Craven is a better horror director than Tim Burton? Is he dumb?

13. Calls you ballerina barbie, short stack, princess, anything other than your actual name. 

14. Won’t drop dead. 

And, because you’re not going to let anyone treat you that way, here’s a list of things you’ve done in retaliation: 

1. “Accidentally” stepped on his canvas. 

2. 3 times.

3. Uploaded a video of you calling him a dick in place of his documentary. 

4. Yes, he did play it for the class on accident.

5. Told him you didn’t want to be his partner anyway since he walks around stoned 24/7. 

6. Laughed. 

7. Told him he’d be a good ballerina. His tiny dick would fit perfectly in a leotard. 

8. Fucked his friend. While said friend was supposed to help Matthew with his project. 

9. Told him none of Edgar Allan Poe’s work was actually interesting enough for screen time. (He almost passed out, he got so mad.)

10. Told him his mismatch socks were dumb. 

11. Consistently call him asshole, dick, jackass, or just Matthew. All synonyms.

12. Refuse to let him mess with you. 

So, the idea of him helping you with your project, coming into your room, bothering you for hours on end, was a ridiculous thought. You should punch John for even mentioning it. Except. It wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Hey, pants stay on,” Matthew said, giving you a smirk. “Boy Scouts honor.” 

Everyone was looking at you. It made you queasy. Annoyed. Angry. And you couldn’t take it. So, you sighed heavily and cut your eyes towards Matthew. “Fine,” you grimaced. “Fine. Monday night. You will teach me how to use EasyEdit. And then we can all drop this.” 

“Ah, success,” John cheered. “I’m not worried, though. Look at [y/n], she’s so innocent. She looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree. She does ballet for crying out loud. I doubt fucking is on her to-do list.”

“And on that note,” you pushed yourself off the bed. “I’m going to my room. Goodnight.” 

Your room was just down the hall, and you showered, changed, brushed your teeth and got into bed in all of 30 minutes. Just about to fall asleep, you were disturbed by the sound of keys jingling in the door. Sloppy footsteps stumbled into the room, accompanied by silly giggles.

Thinking you were asleep, your roommate admired your sleeping frame, “Awwww,” she cooed. “Precious, precious, [y/n].” She walked over to you and rubbed your shoulder. 

“You’re crazy to not wanna fuck Matthew,” she whispered, chuckling. “You don’t know what you’re missing, kid.”

And you stayed still, silent, pretended to snore. All while Claire crawled into her bed. 

When Monday rolled around, you spent the entire day with a chip on your shoulder. Claire kissed the top of your head and insisted you’d be fine, that your project would be done by the end of the night and you’d be grateful for Matthew’s help. But she knew that was a  dead cause in her heart of hearts. You both knew it’d be a miracle if Matthew and you made it through 15 minutes of editing. 

When she left to go to a friend’s place, you changed into pajama pants, combined with a cozy cropped button sweater. You sat at your desk, and waited. You’d told Matthew to arrive at 7. 

He got there at 7:59.

By then, you were laying in bed, pissed and upset that you’d actually been convinced to give Matthew a chance. He knocked on the door, and you answered with an attitude. “Go home, Matthew.” 

“Don’t be like that, short stack,” he sighed, following you as you stomped into the room. “I got caught up. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah? What’d you get caught up with? A gram?” You spit. 

He laughed, “Haha, so funny. No, I was not getting high. I was working on my own project. That I finished. Ahead of time. Can you relate, [y/n]?” 

“Get out of my room,” you scoffed. “I asked you for one thing. One. And you couldn't even do that. You knew how important this project was to me, and you didn’t give a fuck. I wasted time waiting for you that I could’ve been working or rehearsing! I—Are you listening?” 

Matthew’s eyes had been concentrated solely on your chest, “Are you wearing a bra?” He asked. 

You took a step back, stunned, blinking rapidly as you searched around the room. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m just trying to find where the hell that came from?” 

“It came from that itty bitty shirt you’re wearing,” he replied with a shrug. “Doesn’t really leave much to the imagination.” 

“Stop staring at my tits!” You shouted, face turning red. “God, Matthew, I can’t stand to look at you right now. Just, leave. Please.” 

He did not stop staring at your tits. Not for a very long time. But when he did, he had this look in his eyes. Like a wire had snapped. And he kissed you. Cupped your face in his hands, pulled you close, and kissed you. You pressed your hands against his chest, face contorting in shock and confusion. 

You pushed him away, lips retracting with a sharp smacking noise. Saliva dripped from your lips, and you stood there, huffing and puffing like the two of you had just run a mile. “What the hell was that?” You snapped, your fingertips lightly touching your bottom lip. 

He didn’t reply. He was just as speechless as you were. Speechless, and confused, and out of breath, and so, so pretty. He was so pretty. Has he always been that pretty? 

You grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and pulled him back in, pressing your lips together in an aggressive collision. Matthew’s hand gripped onto your hair, his body pushing itself against yours in an eager attempt to get as close to you as possible. His other hand made its way to your waist, gripping onto your skin so hard, his nails left marks. Both his hands began to snake down your body, landing on the back of your thighs. 

Very suddenly, Matthew scooped you up in his arms, yanking your feet off of the ground. You let out a breathy ‘oof’ as you found yourself perched in his grasp, your legs wrapped around his torso, your hands on his shoulders. He supported your weight so easily, all while sliding his tongue into your mouth. 

He carried you over to your bed, where he abruptly dropped you onto the mattress, and looked down at you with a lustful grin. Standing beside the bed, he leaned in as if he was going to kiss you — slowly, with his hands reaching out to touch your body — but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his hands on your ribs and pushed your sweater up, over your breasts to reveal your chest. 

“I knew it,” he whispered. “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, before you released it shakily. His lips wrapped around your nipple, wetting it with his tongue and applying light suction. A soft moan left your mouth, and you gripped onto his hair in ecstasy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He sucked harder, to the point of pain, just to hear you make some noise. Any noise. When one nipple began to pulse between his lips, he moved to the other, leaving a trail of love bites between them. 

The heat between your legs was suffocating, and you rubbed your thighs together for some relief. Matthew noticed this, and proceeded to stick his hands down your pants, fingers sliding underneath the band of your underwear. He smirked at how soaked you were already and rubbed your clit as he licked a trail up to your neck. You tightened your thighs around his hand, gasping at the friction and pulling at the bedsheets. 

The sound caused Matthew to take in a sharp breath of air. His cock was pressed against the zipper of his jeans, and was getting to the point that it was excruciating. So, as he massaged your nerve, he undid his pants and pushed them down his legs. 

He nibbled on your ear, and as you gave him a quiet moan, your eyes flickered down to look between your bodies. Flushed, and horny, and suddenly so desperate, you grabbed onto Matthew’s large erection and pressed the tip against your clit. 

He grunted and pulled back to stare you in the eye, a sly grin creeping onto his face. He laughed, “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Innocent? Innocent, my ass.” 

As you rolled your eyes at him, he kissed your lips softly, hands holding onto your thighs. You positioned his cock at your entranced and allowed him to press into you. He stood up straight, watching his cock disappear inside you, slowly, steadily, before he suddenly slammed into you. The sound of skin colliding on skin mixed in with your and Matthew’s moans, and he watched your head roll back in pleasure. 

He licked his lips, smirking. And he did it again. And again. And again. Pulling out all the way and pushing back into you. Hard. The sensation struck your chest, and elicited vulnerable moans from you every time he pounded you. Matthew instantly began to speed his hips up, nails digging into your thighs as he pressed your legs open for him. His used all his strength to fuck you, your head knocking into the wall with every thrust. It was sloppy and messy and you couldn’t stop whimpering. Your eyes were screwed shut, and when you opened them again, the first thing you noticed with his chain. The gold medallion dangled in your face, Matthew’s lips pressed against your cheek. 

Absentmindedly, you tangled your fingers in the chain, tugging on it as your volume increased. “Fuck,” you muttered. “Oh, fuck.” 

He brought his hand up to your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, quietly, softly. And you did it without thinking. His thumb slid into your mouth, twirling around your tongue and stifling your moans. 

He removed his hand and placed his thumb on your clit, wetting the skin with your own saliva. You let out a loud yelp at the new sensation, and a bubble instantly formed in your stomach. 

Oh, no, not Matthew, you thought. Don’t let it be Matthew. 

But with his cock and his hips and the way he kissed your neck and rubbed your sensitive nerve all at once. You came, you came with a fit of pornographic moans, trembling and writhing around on the bed. 

And it was Matthew — the first guy to make you come. Ever. 

He licked his lips as he watched you come undone beneath him, proud of himself — to the point of cockiness. Giving you a few more forceful pumps, he pulled out of you and released himself onto your chest, watching the fluid cover the hickies he’d left there. 

He looked angelic on top of you, moaning, panting, swearing under his breath. But the moment he finished, he stepped back, fastened his pants and walked away. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him in a daze. 

Matthew logged onto your computer, pressed a few buttons and then closed the laptop shut. Then he left. 

However, the next day he sent you an email. Your project. Fully and perfectly edited. 

Okay. So, that happened. They said it would happen and it happened. Didn’t necessarily make you hate Matthew any less, but it happened. It was good. You hated to admit it. And it was all you could think about. You couldn’t even touch yourself or hold your pillow without thinking of Matthew. It was bad. 

Especially, given the fact that after the whole situation, he decided not to talk to you. At all. Not in class, not while hanging out with friends, not even to pick a fight. Complete and utter radio silence. He looked at you enough though. Not while you were looking at him, of course. So, as far as you knew, you were far off of his mind. But life had to go on. You had to focus on school, and on top of that, you were due to perform in NYU’s production of Swan Lake in less than two weeks. 

You landed the main role of Odette, meaning for the next two weeks, you had to eat, sleep, breathe ballet. You practiced for hours on end, barely saw your friends, which gave you a good break from seeing Matthew. 

Opening night rolled around and you were so nervous, you thought you might puke. Only a freshman, it was a miracle you landed the role in the first place, which meant your performance tonight was a make or break moment. Claire could tell you were sick to your stomach and tried to distract you by taking a bunch of pictures on her phone.

“Smile, pretty girl!” She beamed, the flashing going off in your face as you posed. “[y/n], you’re gonna kill it! I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah...” you whispered. “Deathly excited.”

“Aw, poor baby,” she swung her arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna be front  and center, cheering you on. Just focus on me, okay?” 

You smiled and nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Okay.” 

Your body was on autopilot out on stage. The movements you’d practiced everyday, for hours and hours on end, just flowed. The lighting in the audience was dark, but you could just barely make out Claire’s figure under the soft hue. 

It wasn’t until the finale, when you stood ready for your closing performance, that the lights switched to their full intensity and you noticed a hand resting on Claire’s shoulder. An arm resting behind her head. Someone whispering in her ear, making her laugh. 

Matthew.

He was here. He was here and he was with Claire. He was with Claire and he was watching you. And it made your stomach feel weird. But then the music kicked up. So, you had to go. You fell into your dance, your rhythm and for some reason, you could not stop staring at Matthew. 

Every twirl, you made him your focal point. Looking at him again, and again, and again. Until the lights went out. 

Supporting ballerinas cheered you on as you walked offstage, throwing flowers at your feet and giving you applause. Your instructor marched right up to you, kissed both sides of your face and embraced you. It was a wonderful feeling, but right then, you were drained, emotionally, mentally, physically, you needed some rest. 

You locked yourself away in your dressing room, taking a seat in the mirror and beginning to remove your tights. Pressing a makeup wipe to your skin, you jumped, startled by a knock on the door. You rose from your seat and walked to the entrance casually, expecting Claire to greet you. 


But you froze, as soon as you opened the door. Eyes glazing over the person in front you, your breath caught in your throat. “Matthew.” 

“Hey,” he smiled. He looked you up and down — your naked legs, your breasts poking through the thin material of the leotard. “You...you were amazing tonight.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Bye.”

You attempted to close the door on him, but his put his elbow against the frame, stopping it in motion. “Whoa,” he exclaimed, pushing his way into the room. “What the hell is your problem?” He closed the door behind him.

“My problem is that I’m very tired, and still need to change, and greet everyone waiting for me. So, I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for what?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

You ducked your head down, “Nothing. Nothing. You need to leave.”

“Hey, hey, hey, ballerina barbie,” he mocked. “What’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal! I have nothing to say to you Matthew. Same way you have nothing to say to me.” You scrunched up your face in a frown.

“I...” he paused, laughing under his breath. “I never said I didn’t have something to tell you. In fact, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” 

You looked up at him — the gel in his hair, his black button down shirt flowing over his belt buckle, his dark eyes, his lips and the way they were pouting just a little. And like a magnet, you found yourself being pulled towards him. You jumped into his arms, hands on his face, and connecting your lips, mouths open, tongues touching. 

Matthew held you up, moaning against your lips. “Mm,” you hummed. “Wait, what if someone comes in?” 

Matthew thought quickly, hiking you up in his arms and shoving your back against the door. “Well, now they can’t get in, can they?” He mumbled, leaving kisses along your neck.

Your jaw dropped and you started to undo his belt, freeing his cock from his pants. He grunted against your skin as you stroked him, your head leaned back against the door, your chest heaving. You used your other hand to pull your leotard to the side, revealing your throbbing core. 

Matthew smirked, letting you guide his dick to your entrance, and pushed his way into you swiftly. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck to keep yourself quiet. His thrusts were quick, rough, messy. He was much more vocal this time, making no effort to stay silent.

“Fuck,” he moaned in your ear. “F-fuck, I forgot how good your pussy is. Fuck.”

The feeling was mutual. For the past month, you’d be wondering what the hell about Matthew had you so stuck. So fixated on him. And this was it. He filled you up perfectly, could manhandle you however he wanted, and always, always made sure you came. 

He fucked you harder when he noticed your orgasm nearing — your quickened breaths, frequent moans and whines, and your legs tightening against his torso. “Oh, my God,” you whimpered. 

“Shit, are you gonna come?” He asked. “Good.”

Breathless, speechless, you stared into his eyes helplessly as your body began to crumble. All power left your body and you held onto his shirt for dear life. He gave you a small smile, and flipped his hair out of his face, looking down at his cock. He could pinpoint the exact stroke that did it. The one that sent you into a state of euphoria, sent your eyes rolling back, your body into intense shock. 

You let out a long and weakened sigh as the wave washed over you, and Matthew continued to plow into you like nothing was happening. 

“It’s so cool how your pussy tightens up when you come,” he chuckled. “It’s hot.” 

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, clawing at the back of his neck. His breathing became ragged and hoarse, and he had to pull out of you before he came. He jerked himself off until he exploded onto your clothing. And with you being dressed in all black, his stains stood out perfectly on your costume. 

This time, he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he left.

The week after that was finals week. And neither of you could be bothered to reach out. Despite the not-so-subtle confession of bitterness and the very intense orgasms you shared, you and Matthew simply went back to not talking. Your friends thought it was strange, even commented that they missed the bickering. The two of you shrugged in response. 

Most of your dorm room was in boxes by the time you finished your last final exam. Claire was slower to pack up than you were, considering she only lived an hour away, but she applauded you for your determination. The day Claire did start packing was the day before you left for the summer. The two of you spent the day getting everything cleared out, cleaned, squared away.

While the two of you sat on your bed, watching Netflix, a knock sounded from your door. Claire hopped up and headed towards the entrance, opening it with a grand smile. “Gube!” She shouted, instantly opening her arms for a hug. Matthew wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, carrying her into the room with a smile.

 “Are you about to leave?” She asked him, holding onto his arms as he placed her feet back on the ground. 

“Yeah, my mom’s here. So, I wanted to stop by and say goodbye,” he nodded. 

“Aw, Gube, you softie,” she giggled. “[y/n], come say bye.”

“I can say bye from right here, Claire,” you replied. She gave you a look, and you felt compelled to get off the bed. So you did, you approached them, “Bye, Matthew.” 

“Bye, shortcake,” he laughed. “Bye, Claire.” He pulled your roommate into another hug, while you stood there, crossing your arms in annoyance. 

Matthew peeked at you over Claire’s shoulder. One hand rubbed her back and the other reached out to you, holding a small note.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, then the note, then Claire. You ripped the paper from his hand, and stuffed it into your pocket right away. He smirked at you, and turned his attention back to Claire. 

“Hey,” he said to her. “Come back to my place, I want everyone there to show my mom I actually have friends.” 

Claire chuckled and nodded, “Okay,” she shrugged. “Let’s go. [y/n], you coming?”

“Uh, no,” you shook your head. “I’m gonna keep packing, but I’ll text you later.”

“Okay,” Claire smiled, and she let Matthew whisk her away. 

You sighed, and as soon as the door closed, you pulled the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket. You opened it up to reveal — not a meaningful message, not even a few words. Just one string of numbers, writing in his handwriting:

505. 

[PART 2.]

#mine #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler/reader #matthew gray gubler smut #college!matthew #esny

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928​ forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions. 

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is. 

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg. 

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that. 

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry. 

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair. 

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

 And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort. 

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt. 

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie. 

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital. 

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father. 

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual. 

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven. 

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.” 

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully. 

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up. 

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home. 

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self. 

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!” 

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics. 

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.  

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder. 

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup. 

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question. 

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it. 

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.  

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation. 

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress? 

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable. 

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could. 

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you. 

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree. 

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process. 

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace. 

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins. 

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.” 

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee. 

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad. 

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share. 

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable. 

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself. 

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated. 

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse. 

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.” 

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change. 

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you. 

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him. 

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.” 

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map. 

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.” 

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely. 

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination. 

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition. 

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you. 

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.” 

You frown and look away from him. 

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face. 

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #seokjin scenario #writing

[nekojitachan]

Hmm, slowly working on Casts a Shadow ch8 while trying not to be distracted by the MDZS fic (so many ideas!). Trying to decide to post the next CAS chapter or upload the Raven!Andrew soulmate fic this weekend.

Either way, here’s a sneak peek at ch2 of CAS. Warning for the Nest, and dealing with sexual harassment in a... removing parts way.

*******

“You are such a speedy little demon; we should put a bell on you so we can at least keep track of you on the court,” Kari complained while she tousled Nathaniel’s hair. He grimaced at the affectionate gesture but allowed it since the offensive dealer was one of Natalie’s friends.

“You’re gonna give your mark fits once you’re an official Raven.” Octavia frowned as she handed over her apple. “We need to bulk you up some more by then.”

“He just burns it off,” Natalie said as she gave Nathaniel a slight nudge in the side. “This one seems built for running. Maybe he should be a striker or a dealer.”

“I like running,” Nathaniel mumbled after he swallowed a bite of apple; it was crisp and tart, just how he liked them. “And I do fine as a backliner.” He certainly had no problem blocking Riko and Kevin.

The three young women agreed and commented that lack of size didn’t equate to lack of toughness; Octavia and Kari were two of the newer Ravens, both sophomores, and among the few women on the team.

The Ravens – or at least some of them – had stopped being so standoffish with Nathaniel and Natalie in the last few weeks. Part of it had been them noticing the split (such as it was) between the two of them and Riko and Kevin (the ‘heirs’ of Exy), and part of it had been when John, an asshole freshman striker, had heard about Natalie’s sixteenth birthday and thought it a great idea to ask her if she was now ‘ready for some fun’.

Natalie had immediately pulled a knife on him and asked if he was ‘ready to live life as a eunuch’, while Nathaniel told her to leave him his balls and go for his dick instead.

For some reason, that had endeared the handful of women Ravens to them, and earned them the respect of some of the men. It also meant that Nathaniel had to put up with people messing with his hair and teasing him about his height (more the lack of it), about them being ‘asked’ to fetch drinks, snacks or other items during their downtime… but no one tried to hurt them.

(Other than Tetsuji when they messed up drills or practice, or Riko with his tricks out on court, but that didn’t count.)

Nathaniel supposed he could put up with becoming the Ravens’ ‘unofficial’ mascot when it made Natalie smile and got him extra fruit.

After lunch, everyone returned to their rooms or one of the common areas to study during the short time before the final practice of the day; Nathaniel and Natalie usually went to her room to do their homework together. They passed Riko and Kevin in the hallway since their rooms were nearby, and of course Riko couldn’t resist getting a taunt in while passing.

“Ooh, what class is it today? Reading for dummies?” He laughed at the pathetic joke while Kevin gave them an apologetic look; long used to the asshole’s antagonistic behavior, Nathaniel and his sister simply ignored him (which they knew would affect him the most).

For once, Riko left the insults at that, which was a surprise; he enjoyed taunting Natalie over the fact that, despite her being sixteen, she wasn’t that far past Riko and Kevin in academics since she’d dropped out of school after joining the Bloodhounds. She’d done an incredible job catching up while living in Baltimore, but Tetsuji’s intense training regime didn’t leave her much opportunity to study ahead so there was talk of holding her back at least a year, probably two, which would grant her more time to work on her Exy skills.

(Perhaps it was selfish of him, but Nathaniel wouldn’t complain about having Natalie around the Nest longer.)

They didn’t say anything until they were in Natalie’s room. “He’s been a bit odd lately,” she said as she fetched her laptop.

(There was no question about who ‘he’ was.)

“He’s an asshole,” Nathaniel muttered as he dug through his bag for his own laptop. “What’s odd about that?”

“It’s just….” Her brows drew together as she stared at the device’s blank screen then shook her head as she powered it on. “He was so angry when he found out about us swearing to Ichirou, but the last few days he’s been less antagonistic.” At Nathaniel’s dubious look, she rolled her eyes. “For an asshole.”

“Maybe he’s plotting something,” Nathaniel suggested as he logged on to his online classes. “Maybe he thinks he’s figured out something so much better than messing with our beds in that little asshole snake brain of his.”

Natalie smiled as she bumped into his left shoulder. “Tell me how you really feel about him.”

Like he needed an excuse. “He’s an asshole snake of a bastard who-“

His sister cut him off by smacking him lightly over the head with a pillow. “I think I get it!” When he batted the pillow aside and glared, Natalie grinned and pointed at his laptop. “Show some of that creativity for the essay you have to write for English.”

“School sucks almost as much as Riko,” he grumbled as he clicked on the mentioned assignment. “Hey, I’ll do your math if you-“

“No,” Natalie said, smile gone as she focused on her own lesson plan. “You need to learn more than math, Ram.”

“Why, when we’ll be playing Exy and doing stuff for Ichirou.” He narrowed his eyes when he spotted his latest reading assignment. “We gonna debate Pride and Prejudice while slitting some guy’s throat?”

“Perhaps,” she mused while she typed something. “You never know what triggers some people. Might be the thought of figuring out a calculus problem or they’ll lose a finger, or hearing the breakdown of War and Peace’s plot.”

Nathaniel gave his sister an intent look for several seconds. “You’re terrifying, you know.”

Natalie’s special smile returned, the one which she mostly reserved for him, the one that brought out the dimple in her right cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He resumed lying down next to her and forced himself to start on the detested essay. “Hey, why do people hate math so much?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Hmm, not sure, maybe because it doesn’t come to them as easily as it does you. Just like how you pick up languages.” She flashed the special smile again. “But not essay writing.”

“That’s for you to do.”

She hummed in pleasure and stroked a hand over his hair in agreement.

They studied for the rest of the hour (Natalie corrected his essay once he had it written, and he checked her math – they still covered each other like that), then they got ready for the last practice of the day.

There had been some uncomfortable stares from the Ravens when Nathaniel had first changed with them, as they took in the knife and burn scars on his chest and back, but now they no longer paid attention to them. Instead, they teased each other about who would score the most points or rack up the most blocks, then took turns rubbing Nathaniel’s head on the way out to court.

“Why?” he demanded to know as he fended off Gerry’s hand.

“For good luck of course!” the older backliner declared with a laugh, while his partner, Liam, nodded in agreement.

“Your fault for being a redhead, Nat,” Omar called out while he tugged on his gloves. “And so adorable. You should-oof.” He stumbled as Riko ‘accidentally’ swung his helmet at the junior striker while he stormed out of the locker room, a quiet Kevin ever his shadow.

“Spoiled little brat,” Omar muttered as he rubbed his ribs, a sentiment that was echoed by a few other Ravens; Nathaniel wisely kept his opinion to himself (even if it was much the same). He might badmouth Riko to his sister all the time, but they were still Moriyama property even if they now answered to Ichirou and not Tetsuji.

Tetsuji had Nathaniel, Natalie, Kevin and Riko work on drills while the official Ravens warmed up, then scrimmage together for a while. Nathaniel enjoyed the matches because even if Riko was an asshole who always used excessive force against him (which Tetsuji ignored), he was a talented asshole, along with Kevin (who wasn’t as much an asshole as Riko’s toady).

When it was time for them to stop and join in with the Ravens, Tetsuji ordered Nathaniel and Natalie to go back to working on drills; Riko smirked at them as he and Kevin left to join the older players. Nathaniel opened his mouth to complain about being deprived of scrimmage time, except Matsumoto offered to call out drills for them.

Tetsuji nodded in approval while Nakamori and Akagi fell in step behind the ‘Master’; normally, Nathaniel was uneasy around older men (especially ones his father’s age), but Matsumoto was in his early sixties, possessed a quiet voice and kept his hands to himself.

He was also very pragmatic and while he might be one of Tetsuji’s assistant coaches, he realized that ‘the Master’ and his grand Castle Evermore only existed with the main branch’s blessing. That meant he often passed along useful bits of information to Nathaniel and his sister.

They spent half an hour going through the eight Ravens drills (which they’d perfected) in the random order Matsumoto called out, knocking down cones again and again. It was while Nathaniel was setting up the cones yet again that he caught Matsumoto leaning toward Natalie and whispering something in her ear.

He had to wait until after dinner to find out what it was; Natalie joined him in his room. “It seems that someone owes a debt to Kengo, and the only way he can pay it back is to offer up his son, who plays Exy very well,” she explained in French.

For a moment, Nathaniel felt an intense wave of anger at the thought of another kid being sold to the Moriyamas, of having a father like his, before he shoved the thoughts aside. He jumped a little when Natalie gave a gentle touch to his left cheek (scrubbed clean for the night of the stupid ‘3’ which Riko insisted he bear). “I think it’s why Riko’s been acting up lately. Matsumoto said that he overheard Tetsuji telling Riko that you’re getting a partner, so he probably knows about the kid’s background.”

Nathaniel huffed as he rubbed his sore ribs, the ones which Riko had smacked with his racquet earlier in the day. “Knowing the asshole snake, he’s probably expecting a new ‘toy’ to play with.” One his big brother wouldn’t snatch away this time.

“Perhaps.” Natalie didn’t appear pleased with the thought, but there wasn’t much they could do about Riko’s personality worsening by the month. “Come, time to practice.”

“Slave driver,” Nathaniel groaned even as he climbed off his bed and slipped free the knife he kept sheathed on his left ankle at all times; he figured the sooner he suffered through their nightly fighting practice, the sooner he could sleep.

More like pass out on his bed, by the time they were done.

Jean Moreau arrived two days later, a young Frenchman around Kevin’s and Riko’s age, with black hair, grey eyes, and a massive attitude problem. He glared down his nose (of course he was taller than Nathaniel) at everyone but the adults while Tetsuji introduced him to the rest of the ‘Perfect Court’ (as Riko had dubbed the four of them). “Nathaniel, Jean will be your partner. He’s a backliner, too.”

“Understood, sir,” Nathaniel said with a slight bow.

“You’ll teach him everything he needs to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll be-“

“I don’t want to be here!” Jean complained in French as he tugged on the front of his new uniform, which bore the number ‘4’. “All of you can go to hell, I refuse to-ow!” His pale grey eyes grew wide as he stumbled forward beneath the force of the blow to his back from Tetsuji’s cane.

“You’ll speak English,” Tetsuji reprimanded while Riko smirked and Kevin stared off into the distance as if he wasn’t participating in the whole ‘here’s a new possession’ thing.

“I’ll speak whatever I wa-ow!” That time, Jean was knocked to his knees, where he was hit several times before Tetsuji relented; Nathaniel was disgusted to notice the gleam of pleasure in Riko’s dark eyes over the abuse.

#aftg #casts a shadow fic #ch2 preview #neil josten #neil as nathaniel #raven!neil #raven!renee #renee walker #renee as natalie #neil and renee as adopted siblings #kevin day #riko moriyama #tetsuji moriyama #jean moreau #yes yes precious jean-bean is here #perfect court five #it gets better for jean i promise

[hayjeon]

Practical Tips on getting your fics out there!

I’ve gotten an influx of these types of questions here recently, and the more i thought about what i was gonna add, it became really long :(  

disclaimer: a lot of the things i bring up are just from personal experience as a writer on this site, what my followers have told me they appreciate, and what i tend to look for when im looking for fics to read! If you don’t like these tips then pls move on :) 

although i’ll mention them, i’m also not going to be focusing on cliche tips like “write for yourself” or “grammar issues” cause those are pretty obvious!

1. accessibility of your blog 

when you’re trying to get your name out there, make sure that you’re creating an inviting experience for any potential followers! this includes:

a memorable url! be creative!

have some fun designing your blog’s aesthetic! (i love cute blogs because it reflects a bit of the writer’s personality), and (i prefer blogs with white backgrounds because it’s easier to look through/read, say, in contrast to a pitch black one where the words need to be white!) 

put your masterlist link in your bio (even better if you can link most recent fic! found this most helpful when i revisit authors that i like and can easily see if they’ve updated or not)

an organized and easy-to-navigate masterlist (personally, i prefer masterlists organized by band, instead of types of fics ie. i hate when i have to choose between drabbles, oneshots, and series masterlists; i really prefer to see them altogether!) --> see section 3 

organized tags (if you’re going to be posting a lot of non-fic-related content like pictures or videos, tag them properly so followers can sort through and find your fics easily!), or (if you’re going to be writing in different mediums like drabbles, or answering asks, make sure to use a unified #mine or #writing or #fics to centralize your content) 

2. get your name out there!

write write write! once you have some fics that show your talent, don’t be shy! 

join writing groups: when i first started out, I joined a bunch of groups that would reblog my fics in the midst of the content of much bigger writers; these blogs developed a following, and as a result of my content mixing in with bigger blogs’ content, so did my own tumblr! there’s been a stigma recently with these groups, but im sure you can find one thats supportive and not clique-y! 

send your fics to rec pages: what’s the harm? the only bad thing that can happen is that they ignore you! who cares! get out there! 

if you can do the above, i really encourage you to ask your fave writers for advice/to read your fic: again, the worst that can happen is that they say no or don’t respond or don’t have enough time, but it’ll be a good opportunity to get some feedback! i for one read (or try to read) every single rec that falls into my inbox. if i like it, i’ll #rec it, and if i don’t, unless the writer asks me for feedback, i move on!! 

utilize your tags!!: i’m not entirely sure if this is still the same or not, but from my memory, it’s the first 3-5 tags that matter the most? so utilize them well; push back the tags that aren’t really relevant (ie. #writing, #fics) and push more the main subject line of what you wrote (ie. jungkook fluff, bts smut, namjoon angst). these will populate your fics into the tags better!

headers!: when i’m scrolling through an infinite page of fics, the headers catch my eye the most; try being creative! you can find a lot of info out there on how to make ur headers super aesthetic, but i can share my tips too! --> see section 3

3. your masterlist 

here are some practical tips! 

organize by band, not type of fic/member/centralize your masterlist: i went onto a blog recently and clicked their bio mlist link to find a page full of 20~ish “JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST”/ “JAEHYUN MASTERLIST” and when i clicked on each one, they only had like 2 or 3 fics per member. i think it would’ve been better if she’d centralized all her fics! that keeps whoever is looking interested and more likely to click on another fic while browsing

add info about the fics!: when scrolling through a masterlist, it’s easy to get lost; try to add some snippets of info (ie. a short sentence you liked from the fic, a quick summary, a description of the au/scenario, or even a header!) this all gives some info about the fics you have tagged! 

headers: this isn’t a requirement, but i personally love a good header on fics i read and i love making them myself as i finish up a fic and get ready to upload it; here are free sources: unsplash for HQ stock pics, crop/edit/filter in VSCO, and then add aesthetic script with fontcandy) 

try to fill it up!: after i visit a blog after reading one good fic, i usually browse through their mlist to see if there are any more that i’d be interested in. if there’s a lot to look forward to, i’ll almost always follow; try to write as much as you can in the first few months to try and fill up your mlist and give blog viewers a reason to visit your blog again, follow, or even reblog your content!) 

4. try not to reproduce cliche fics: 

honestly tumblr’s writing community (and armys) has grown insanely these past few years and, unfortunately, even from my perspective, in the past 3-4 years, all the writers have sort of become blended together in my brain. but, i can say that the ones who consistently stand out are the ones who produce consistent content and think outside of the box! 

i tend to gravitate towards fics that have really interesting plotlines (ex. btssavedmylifeblr’s VOID is always a surprise to read because it’s sO unique! i usually don’t read ot7 fics but this one is legit my fave) 

I know it’s tempting to try and just write typical smut fics to try and gain some traction, but tumblr is already too overloaded by that kind of content; try to write something that’s special and unique! this will set u apart from the thousands of other writers here --> see next section

5. create unique fics: 

this is also personal to my writing style, but i get so bored writing just casual fics about the members, and it affects the fics i choose to read too; i prefer unique fics which you can achieve through: 

circumstance/au: create a fun au!; don’t just create an arranged marriage, create an arranged marriage in joseon dynasty, or between a werewolf and a hunter! (shameless self plug); don’t just give me friends to lovers, but give me spiderman!jungkook friends to lovers! (ie. cupofteaguk’s exchanges)

jobs: give them out-of-the-ordinary jobs; don’t just give me enemies to lovers, but give me rival!anchors who end up loving eachother! (ie. jimlingss The Newscasters)

fun dialogue: create good back-and-forth, (something i’m still working on!)! this will help your characters develop personality, and that way, readers will start to develop that themselves as well (ie. dad!yoongi from insemination wars by prolixitae is such a specific character that i love so much!, or obiwrites’ garden characters were so memorable!)

create memorable personalities: don’t give me a flat character, try to develop 4d personalities in all of your characters! (im still working on this too!) this way you can really make an impression on your followers! a great way to practice/recognize this is: “Ask my Character.” Can your followers ask a specific character a specific question, and would you be able to deliver an answer that is very specific to that character’s tone/voice/personality? If yes, then ur doing well! If not, try to think of ways that you can make tht specific character from a specific story, really unique and separate from your other characters.

6. some practical writing tips

be yourself, write for your own pleasure, blah blah blah; yeah you know already haha but here are a few more practical tips! 

grammar check: if you can, try and hone your grammar! makes for an easier read 

write like you: i personally LOVE this by obiwrites, but even the way she writes exudes her personality and is so specific; try not to be caught up in adding hundreds of synonyms and exquisite language; in fact, simpling it down and being more concise and honest with your writing is better than a superfluous sentence; this will also give ur characters so much more dimension and funk

use those commas/sentence variation: try to use more commas; this will feel like you’re the narrator to your own story; it also makes it more fluid to read in my opinion, over those short. clipped. sentences. (ie. “he came over, sitting down on the corner of your bed with an expression you’d never seen before” over “he walked over. he sat down, looking sad.”) 

half-half dialogue/narration: a fic with too much dialogue can get confusing, and a fic with too much narration can get dry; try to balance them out, and weave in and out of each! 

quality over quantity: don’t feel burdened to write a 30k word fic. in fact, i think some of the shorter fics (ie. any of versigny’s stuff) made a bigger impression on me over the longer fics because they were short, left me wanting more, and were just so high-quality in such small quantities. try out your hand at drabbles and one-shots, and don’t feel too burdened to try and develop a series right off the bat! 

abandon pigeon-holes: i’m guilty of this; i start series and then end up with no vision for the stories and they end up giving me writers block. its okay. just stop or discontinue them or leave them on a hiatus; it’s okay. your priority is yourself, and if abandoning certain works are part of that, then go ahead. it’ll help you progress more. 

and finally.......

i’ll add more as they come up! but if you liked this, then pls lmk! i’d love to give more tips and tricks; i think i started this blog 3-4 years ago when there weren’t as many writers here, but im glad you’re thinking of starting out/wanting to grow more! don’t feel intimidated! it’s not all about the notes/followers but creating a blog you’re proud of. 

so write what you’re proud of, or interested in, and keep going. i truly thoroughly had so much fun writing this post. if there are any writers who read through this and have some more advice, pls msg me! 

all the best to you! 

#writing tips #story talk #if ur a writer pls lmk if theres anything u wanna add #if ur a reader then pls lmk any questions or comments!

[hoe-imaginess]

OMG THAT MADARA FIC WAS SO GOOD WTH 😩💕💖 I LOVE IT! You did a great job writting this! I hope you are proud of this fic...COZ YOU SHOULD BE 😤👏👏👏 it's almost 5 am and I haven't gone to bed coz I be reading it over and over again 🥺 I swear the way you write Naruto characters in general is amazing, you always know how to portray them accurately even in your own stories! You're an amazing talented human being, thank you for writing this masterpiece 😭💖

!!!! omg thank you so much 💖💖

It wasn’t a fic I was necessarily proud of I just thought some of you guys might want to read it but still I really did not expect this much of a response wowwie

I really really hope I always portray the characters as accurately as possible sksksksks that’s my biggest fear. I’m really glad you liked it!!!

Um.. spoilers (?), if you haven’t read my recent Madara fic, below

Also to every who’s sent me personal messages or reblogged my fic with comments thank you so much! I’ve seen them all and read them and I feel sksksksksaakjshfksjd uwu inside

oof oof oof well since I don’t know if I’m going to ever upload the rest of it, a general plotline of the rest of the fic is:

-yes she keeps the baby

-lots of general ‘madara is being nicer to her now bc she’s pregnant’ scenes that show a bit of his softer side (which was really there all along, just overshadowed by his anger)

-Her generally brushing off his gentleness bc she’s got a lot of anger still. Which pisses him off, but what can he do? She’s pregnant and he thinks it’s his. Speaking of... 

-I never 100% decided who the father was but I did write it a certain way which I... am still gonna keep under wraps, unfortunately. Just in case I ever do want to write more

-Tobirama and the Senju do make an appearance, but a rescue (if there is one) is still a long ways away

-Tobirama’s feelings on the subject

As per the last question, would Tobirama still accept her if the baby isn’t his?... That’s a good question. I never actually sat down to think about it because I haven’t physically written that far. Part of me says no, tbh. Another says yes, but begrudgingly, with a lot of uncertainty in his heart

I wish I had some on hand for you but alas I do not ):

more fuel to the fire that is his hatred for the Uchiha? He’ll take it

She was really out here ready to end Uchiha lives

True!! Honestly whether the baby is Senju or Uchiha, they’re getting taken away immediately. Senju... I... we won’t talk about it 

Uchiha because Madara can’t be sure she won’t do anything rash. And no way he’s letting her harm the baby. That’s his heir now. The whole thing is a little rattling to him but also now pretty important to him

Your English is fine!! And thank you!!

tysm!

I actually had that in my original draft (when I wrote it like... damn... two years ago or something lol) but took it out for 1. to keep the angst going later on and 2. because I didn’t give her a specific occupation, I thought maybe she might have been/be a kunoichi, so her body might be able to handle some of the brunt of Madara’s anger a little better

She would definitely cry okay, she’s bringing the baby into a confusing and harsh world and not even to a father she wants the baby to have

asjkhfkajsdh i love making the angsty food <3

@florssils !!! I didn’t know how else to tag it lmaoooooo kjashdfkjsh “really harsh and traumatic illusions” I didn’t know

Hashirama is constantly keeping Tobirama on a leash omg yes

Although I do think Tobirama is also rational enough to know the Senju have to think this through before trying to launch an attack/take back their land so that’s a big part of the issue too

AHHH on one hand yes that is what I was going for, on the other hand please forgive me

ssksksksksk thank you omg <3 I really wanted it to be an emotional rollercoaster

WELL I actually don’t have a specific ending in mind but it may not be very happy depending on what I choose sksksk. Thank you!

It was something a friend and I started playing with literally yearssss ago and then I just kinda started writing it for myself to get the ideas out

still not sure yet!!!

AHJKSHFKAJSHF Tobirama did you send this ask

#replies for Hostage

[daddystevee]

Worlds Collide - part 1

(steve harrington x fem!reader)

A/N: Okay, i think this is gonna be good, but at the same time im not sure. Its a good concept but im just not good at putting my thoughts onto paper. So please forgive me if this part sucks. I wanted to try writing another multi part fic, but this one might be shorter, but who knows anyways.. Enjoyyyy <3

Warnings: none yet

Summary: Modern day au where Steve and reader meet on a dating website, but things don’t exactly go according to plan.

Word count: 1.2k

part 1/?

masterlist

><

You tried to convince yourself that this would be good for you. Everyone needed someone, no one could take on a world as crazy as ours alone. So when your best friend and roommate told you that you should try to get out there and to sign up for this online dating website, you didn’t fight her on it. 

“Alright, that should be fine.” your roommate Cami said to you, adding the finishing touches to your makeup. 

“I feel like this is.. just too much.” you say getting up from the chair moving over to the vanity in her room, getting a good look at your ‘new’ face. You don’t think you had ever worn this much makeup in your life, not even for school dances.

After staring at your face for a little bit longer, you feel two hands being placed onto your shoulders, “Y/N, you look amazing.” she says turning you around to face her. “Okay, now we have to go out on the balcony to take some bomb ass selfies.”

><

On the other side of town, you would find Steve Harrington surrounded by 6 teens. All huddled around a small computer, each person shouting out different things.

“You should put on there that you LOVE kids. Girls love that.”

“No, I would for sure put something about puppies.”

“Oh, yeah. Puppies.”

“No, no, no. Steve don’t listen to them, add some cheesy pickup lines. Those always work.”

And so on and so on. After so long, he could only take so much,

“Alright! That’s enough.” he says a little louder than anticipated, “I’ll put down what I think would sound good.” With that, the kids go silent but continue to watch over the older boys shoulders.

Once Steve has everything he thinks would attract girls, along with a few of the things the kids mentioned, he reluctantly agrees to let the girls help pick out some of the pictures from his phone to put on his profile. Not even 5 minutes later they have several photos uploaded to his computer and onto his page.

Some of him and the kids on Halloween in their matching costumes, showing off that he does in fact love his kids. A few of him out at bars, to prove that he is a social and outgoing person. And even one with him holding a puppy from the time the kids convinced him to go look at dogs at a kennel, because puppies are cute.

><

After a few days of swiping through the app, you seem to be having shit luck. The guys who have super liked you, aren’t exactly your type, and they guys you’ve had even the slightest interest in never seem to swipe on you. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore Cam, it’s honestly so boring and I’m not getting any matches-” you start to say before she rips your phone out of your hand before plopping down next to you on the couch.

“That’s because you’re not doing it right. Just because you and someone match, doesn’t mean you have to reach back out to them.” she then proceeds to start swiping on almost every single guy. As she’s doing so, you do seem to be getting more and more matches, then right as she’s about to swipe left on someone you stop her.

“Wait, he’s really cute.” you say, emphasis on the ‘really’, while peering over your friends shoulder, “Steve Harrington huh? Has kind of a ring to it don’t ya think?” 

She hands the phone over to you and allows you to do the honors. Upon swiping right, it’s an immediate match. You gasp and turn to Cami, with a look of complete shock on your face. You hear a ding, then a little notification comes up on the screen saying, 

what are ya waiting for? make your move!

“What do I say?” you ask still in shock that someone, you thought was cute matched with you. “Oh wait, I got it.” 

"Be honest. Is that dog really yours or just for props?" 

You giggled to yourself at your question thinking it was hilarious, hoping he would find it funny too. But when the ‘sent’ changed to ‘read’ your laughter stopped, it was no longer funny. What if he didn’t think it was funny, what if he matched on accident? What if he unmatched because of your stupid opener.

All of your worries went away when you saw that he was typing…

“alright, you caught me. not my dog, but you're cuter than any dog i’ve ever seen.”

><

“Dustin!” Steve yelled, snatching his phone out of his smaller friends hand, “Dude you don’t just blurt that kinda shit out.” 

“i’m sorry, that’s not something i would actually say.” 

“Alright, try again lmao.” 

“it’s my friends, they set me up on this app. i’ve never really done anything like this before, so they’re trying to help me out, but aren’t doing a very good job.” read 

“okay, okay. how about, you let me take you out on a date and we can talk, and get to know each other. no distractions” read

A few minutes pass with no response, “Shit! Shit, shit, shit.. this is awkward, she thinks I'm an idiot.” 

Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, he turns around to see Will looking over his shoulder.

“Just give her some time, maybe she’s busy. Or trying to come up with a response?” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, a ding comes from Steve’s phone. He snaps his head towards his hands and his face lights up with a smile. 

“Sure, sounds good to me. Gives me a chance to do this on my own, my roommate’s been up my ass this whole time. You got a snapchat? You know so I can get in contact with you outside the app.”

“Guys! I did it! She wants my snapchat!” Steve says looking to the teens who are sitting around a laptop, watching Netflix, paying no attention to him.

“yeah, totally. it’s stevethehair”

“Okay, hold on I'll add you.”

You go and add him on snapchat, the two of you hit it off instantly, and start to plan out your date. He’s planning on taking you to this diner named ‘Benny’s’ for dinner later in the week, due to busy work schedules throughout the week.

><

As the days go by, and you spend your time on your bed watching Cami go through the clothing in your closet. Walking from room to room pulling pieces of clothing together to make a full outfit.

“You don’t wanna over dress, but you also don’t want to under dress. You feel me?”

You nod your head when your phone vibrates on your leg. Picking up the phone, the smile that was once on your face slowly turns into a frown.

Cami turns around with a pair of jeans and a cute crop top to go with it, but notices your face and drops all of the clothes.

“Wait, what just happened you were so happy like 2 seconds ago.”

“It’s Steve. He just canceled.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #kait writes #Worlds Collide #worlds collide au #au #fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things au #steve harrington au #modern day stranger things #modern day fic

[mollymauk-teafleak]

baby you’re like lightning in a bottle (chapter three)

Sorry it’s been so long since I updated! Teaching during cover times doesn’t leave much time for fic writing. Thanks as always to my amazing betas who keep me motivated @spiky-lesbian​ and @minky-for-short​

Please reblog and leave a comment on Ao3 if you’d like to support my writing!

---

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Peter Nureyev is stuck undercover in Oldtown High for a week longer than planned. Another week of boring lessons, feeling the pressure of an entire panel’s freedom on his shoulders and having to deal with his growing attraction to one Juno Steel...

---

After one lesson of Earth History, Peter found himself glad that he wouldn’t be taking any real examinations at this school. How a teacher could make the home planet of their entire species, the epicentre of their system spanning civilisation, now half ravaged by millenia of pollution and half the playground of the galaxy’s richest trillionaires, sound painfully dull, he didn’t know. But between a teacher that napped in between paragraphs of his monotone lectures and textbooks that were illegible behind layers of graffiti older than the students, they had managed it. Mag’s lessons had been nothing like this.

And it didn’t help that someone up there had decided to really screw with him. In between taking long sips from a coffee cup that definitely didn’t have coffee in it, the teacher sat this new kid in the only available empty chair. Right next to Juno Steel.

If the look on his face was anything to go by, Peter’s new friend wasn’t happy about it either. He was scowling so hard throughout the whole lesson, it was a wonder he didn’t have wrinkles at eighteen. Peter felt every blistering wave of hostility, whenever he dared do so much as breathe, shift his pen, edge his elbow even a centimeter closer to Juno’s.

And the cherry on the top of this almost unbearably painful hour of mind numbing, pointless fact retention and being stared down by a set of suspicious, angry eyes was the part of Peter’s mind still just stuck on how attractive Juno was.

Sometimes Peter wished he could reach into his own body, stuff his hormones into a very cramped box, lock it in chains and throw away the key.

But finally an ear splitting bell rang out and the students lurched to their feet with a communal groan of relief, not waiting for any kind of dismissal. Peter sweeped his notebook and pen into his rucksack, grateful to finally be able to get his mission over with and get off this planet with it’s suffocating schools and confusingly hot kids his age who hated him. Then he could remind himself that he was a thief with a cause and no other concerns beyond that cause.

Certainly not soft golden brown eyes and painted pink lips that still had dried blood smudged on them and hands that he bet would be soft underneath the split knuckles and calluses.

Peter stamped down hard on that thought, reminding himself of one of Mag’s more joking rules that he hadn’t taken seriously until now.

First rule of thieving, a pretty face is the most dangerous thing in the whole damn universe.

Nureyev made as swift an exit as he could manage, made easier by the fact that the hundreds of other kids in Oldtown High were as eager to get to the doors as he was. As he lost himself in the crowd filing down the stairways, he went over the plan.

He would go to the apartment Mag had acquired for him under the name of Peter Ransom’s non-existent father, go over his tools until dark fell and then come back to the school once the coast was clear. From there it would be easy. Break into the principal’s office, find the incriminating files on his computer, the ones that proved the school was being used to launder money by corrupt government officials, upload the malware that would snatch the files and carry them back to Mag on Brahma. Then call him and hear the pride in his voice after Peter announced his first off planet, solo mission had been a complete and total success.

Then leave and never feel the ever present dust of this damn planet on his skin ever again.

Peter’s imagined elation at the thought of it lasted until he walked out of the doors. At first the bright sun, unfiltered by any atmosphere, was all he could see but once he adjusted, he saw the line of vans parked on the front courtyard of the school. The ones with a large, garish cartoon of a giant bug on its back with crosses for eyes all plastered on the sides.

And the second he took to stop and consider this was all it took.

“Ransom! There you are!”

Peter jumped and turned to see Ben just skidding to a halt next to him, his face still split into the wide grin that was starting to seem like his trademark. And, of course, slouching and scowling behind him, his brother.

Dredging up Ransom’s innocent, grateful smile at seeing his friends was hard in that moment but he managed, “Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be looking for me…”

“Just wanted to say bye!” Ben grinned, bouncing slightly even as he stood in place like he just couldn’t help it, “Unless you walk our way? We’re going over in that direction.” He pointed hopefully, off towards where most of the cheap housing was in this part of the city, apparently immune to the exasperated glare from his twin.

Mercifully, Nureyev didn’t have to lie, “No, sorry. I live above one of the stores off main street. Other end of Oldtown.”

“Aw,” Ben’s disappointment was disarmingly genuine, so much that Nureyev felt a genuine pinch of regret, “We’ll see you tomorrow though!”

“Yeah!” now that lie felt strangely uncomfortable on his tongue, the regret not shifting, “Um...what are those vans, sorry? Just wondering.”

Ben looked over at them, “Oh! Right, you missed morning announcements. The school’s got a hell of a bad rat problem, they’re all in the walls. So the exterminators are locking the school down overnight, flooding the place with gas and trying to get them under control. Must be a hell of a job, they’re gonna be doing it for the rest of the week. ”

Nureyev’s stomach sank to the bottom of his shoes, “Wait...overnight? You mean all night? Every night? For a week?”

“Yeah,” Ben cocked his head, a little confused at his reaction, “Don’t worry, the rats don’t come out during the day. Good thing too, with those six eyes and teeth the length of your arm, they’d pick off the freshmen for lunch.”

Nureyev shook himself, realising he was behaving like an ameture, “They, ah...they don’t get that big on Brahma…”

“Welcome to Mars,” Juno grunted, scuffing the toe of his boot against the step.

Nureyev sleep walked through their goodbyes, letting his feet trace the already memorised route between the school and the apartment, not knowing what else to do. He couldn’t get into the school for a week without choking on rat poison.

So he was stranded. With nothing to do but attend high school. He could have screamed.

Remember the first rule.

Peter carried those words as he walked to school the next morning, feeling them the way a necklace that was just a little too big would rest lightly against his chest. Not a weight but noticeable. Enough that he couldn’t put it from his mind.

It was all the reply he’d gotten from Mag after he’d made his first nightly report, updating him on the disappointing turn of events last afternoon. The only way he could message his mentor without any kind of traceable risk was through the burner comms he’d been sent to Mars with, an old, clunky model that could only send the most basic text signals, no more detail than was absolutely necessary. Short messages were harder to track, especially across so much empty space.

He knew that but, still, it hadn’t been an awful lot of comfort, only getting a handful of words printed in eye aching green on the too small screen as he’d sat alone in the barren apartment on his thin fold out bed. He’d tried to read them with Mag’s gruff, friendly voice in his mind but it wasn’t the same and Peter had fallen asleep with the same bitter, disappointed hollow in his chest that had opened up when he’d realised he wouldn’t be going home for far longer than he’d imagined.

But this morning he’d called himself a childish fool and reminded himself why he was here. No matter what it took, Peter Nureyev would do the job he’d been sent to do. Would his father have spent an unprofitable evening sulking because the cause had asked for a few more days? Would Mag?

So he’d shouldered his bag, checked his disguise twice over in the mirror and set off for Oldtown High with those words carried in his heart. He hadn’t needed to ask which rule the message had been talking about, it was the one Mag had repeated the most, the one Peter struggled with more than any other.

First rule of thieving, be patient.

Hyperion City never seemed to slow down. It was the same in Brahma’s capital but there was still something staggering about seeing the same busyness, the relentlessness, the noise played out with hundreds, maybe even thousands more people than could even fit on the whole of his tiny home planet. The air was already thick with sharp tastes of smoke, the roads crammed with cars, raised voices echoing on the streets from open apartment windows and shop doors as Peter walked to school at only eight in the morning. Past the slight shimmer of the dome miles above his head, the sun was already baking the city, red dust moving past his legs with every gust of wind. It was going to be a cloudless day, one that smelled of hot sand and the reek of a city.

Before long, his glasses were smudged, his shirt was stuck to his back and he had a headache. Clearly the main streets weren’t the best way to get to school, even if they were the most direct route. Consulting the map of Oldtown firmly embedded in his memory, Peter cut down one side street and then another to reach the network of back alleyways, wanting at least a few buildings between himself and the relentless honking, smog and cursing that was apparently a feature of the early morning Hyperion commute. He’d take any scrap of peace he could get right now, even if it meant hopping fences and skirting piles of choking garbage to get it.

Be patient. Be patient. Be patient.

He repeated it to himself again and again, making it a command. It absorbed his thoughts so completely, the way things tended to do when he focused all his attention on them, that he didn’t see the figure walking through the alleyway just in front of the one he was in now until he’d been about to jump the chain link fence between them drop right onto their heads. Fortunately, at the very last second, he was able to stop his momentum and instead roll soundlessly behind a pile of full to bursting trash bags, hand clamped over his mouth and silently thanking his lucky stars that he moved so silently.

There was a heart stopping moment of waiting but no pursuit or angry shout followed him into his hiding place. The other person mustn't have seen him. Peter risked a glance, sure it was just some employee of the cafe next door or just a random passerby, someone wrapped up in their own inconsequential morning routine and that he’d soon be feeling very silly for his over reaction. It was just so hard to shake off the instincts of a hungry orphan who’d had to survive in a place where just around every corner could be a guard who’d kick him in the ribs for fun.

And where death could come from the sky above his head.

But, as he leaned out and looked, Peter realised he was very glad that he’d hidden. Because it wasn’t just some nameless citizen of Hyperion. It was Juno Steel.

He was different today, in jeans that were probably ripped both for aesthetics and with wear and a hooded sweater cut just under his ribs so his stomach showed. The combat boots were the same, as were the scabs and bruises from his fight yesterday. In fact they looked worse now they’d had a day to settle in, the one over his eye an especially nasty kind of deep purple. A smudge of eyeshadow in the exact same shade sat on the other, unmarred eye, as if Juno was deliberately trying to make a joke of his injuries. As if he was daring anyone to care.

Even after only knowing them a day, it was strange to see him without Ben. Peter actually found himself waiting, certain the other Steel twin would appear soon, perhaps out of the store Juno was loitering behind. But he didn’t. Juno was only waiting until the coast was clear before continuing on, moving in pretty much the same direction Peter had been about to head himself.

Peter waited, breathing shallowly into his palm. Well...he’d been going that way anyway? It wasn’t as if he was deliberately following Juno?

He used all the skills of moving unseen that had been drilled into him by Mag and, before that, the simple need to survive. He made sure to let Juno always be a building’s span ahead of him, using the muffled noises of cars passing on the street beyond to hide the rattling of fences and the thump of his feet on the ground, his eyes never leaving the back of the other kid’s head.

Before too long, Juno stopped, ducking though a hole in some railings into a narrow alleyway. It appeared to be empty, just steam from an overhead grate and a strong, sour metallic smell. But Juno had the look of someone who’d found exactly what he was looking for. Curious, Peter found another hiding spot behind some very optimistic, scrubby plant, managing somehow to grow in between the railings on goodness knew what. It was easy to disappear into the long, thick shadows of the morning.

After all, he couldn’t pass until Juno moved on, could he? And if he just so happened to see what he was doing then it was an unintended consequence of simply keeping his distance.

The scraping of metal took his attention away from his justifications. Juno had hunkered down in the alleyway and was prying up a sewer grate of all things. Like everything else in this part of the city, it must have been old and poorly maintained, Juno barely needed to strain to get the heavy steel disc standing upright.

Was he going down into the sewers? Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell coming up from that grate, heavier in the warmth of the sunny morning. What could be down there that he’d want?

After a moment, a small pink nose poked up from the circle of reeking darkness. Peter saw Juno smile and reach into the backpack he’d been wearing, bringing out a small parcel wrapped in a paper towel. Peter’s sharp eyes saw the leftovers of a breakfast, toast crusts and the rind of bacon, a little bit of apple. Smiling wider than ever and murmuring gentle hellos that sounded so jarring coming from the young lady who’d been so harsh to him, Juno began to feed whatever creature could make it’s home in sewers that must have been near toxic given the state of this city. Peter could see a set of tall ears sticking out now, notched and matted with filth.

Rats in the walls and rabbits in the sewers. What kind of planet had he landed on?

Peter could have moved on, gone back to the main street now his curiosity had been satisfied or over the roofs even. But something made him stay. Something about how Juno’s eyes looked when he smiled, a sight he’d never seen before. How it softened their colour to almost a gold, how they crinkled in the corners in a way not too unlike when he scowled. They just looked so gentle, a kindness in them that didn’t look out of place on his face, the way it should have. It seemed to have always been there, just hidden until now.

Suddenly, Peter felt a stab of guilt. He didn’t want to be stealing a sight like this, taking it without permission like a thief.

The irony of that unexpected feeling was something he’d have to file away for now and deal with later. For now, he would slip away silently, braving the noise and stink of the main streets, and try and remember what Mag had told him. Though it seemed to be sitting less heavily in his chest than it was before.

Same as yesterday, Ben came looking for Peter and found him sitting on the school steps, pretending to read a book on his comms to mask the fact that he was casing the front of the building and trying to decide if the drain pipes would take his weight in a pinch. Effortlessly, with no effort from him, he was folded back into their little group of four, being pulled over to the bench they’d claimed to laze and smoke on and deliberately turn up late for first period.

Juno seemed as surly and scowly as ever though it was hard to take it as personally, after seeing him spare what had looked like more than half his breakfast for hungry baby rabbits in the sewer.

Peter found himself stealing glances at him all the way through the day, in the lessons they shared, walking through the corridors with Ben or Mick chatting away between them, back in their little hideaway for another long lunch. Whenever it happened, he’d admonish himself and turn his attention back to something useful like memorising the rotation of the guards outside or seeing which classroom doors had broken locks. First rules of thieving ran through his head, trying to tug him back to his mission with Mag’s fondly stern tone.

And it would work, for a time. But then there would always be Juno’s earrings catching the light or a wry smile softening his face when Benzaiten made a joke or Mick’s story took a particularly absurd turn or Sasha made a particularly cutting sarcastic comment, his focus as they escaped the school again like he took his task as seriously as Peter had ever taken one of his own. And Peter would find his mind wandering.

It was like having a puzzle box he couldn’t solve. Peter was so used to reading people at a glance, in being able to arm himself with their insecurities and weak points, weaving his shield out of the strings he could pull to bring them down. Even if they were people calling themselves his friends or strangers who’d never give him a second glance, it made him feel better to have that knowledge just in case. He’d learned a long time ago that people could lie, that danger could come from clear skies.

But Juno was the only person who’d ever insisted on surprising him. On being more that Peter could tease out of his clothes and mannerisms, everything plain on his face and everything hidden underneath. He was a problem he’d been unable to solve at first glance, a lock that was refusing to open under his clever fingers.

Peter told himself that was why, when Benzaiten threw an arm around his skinny shoulders as they were walking back to the school after another long lunch and reminded him about the party he’d talked about yesterday, reminding Peter he’d promised to come and jokingly warning him there was no backing out, he only smiled, nodded and said, “Sure. I’d love to come.”

He told himself it was because he wasn’t leaving Mars while there was a puzzle on it that he couldn’t solve. He told himself it was because he was stuck here for a week anyway and he needed something to occupy his brain while he waited, Juno Steel was as good an exercise as any, like the tasks Mag used to give him when he was younger.

That was what Peter told himself. But it was the look Juno gave him over his shoulder when he heard him say those words, the look that could have been sour and exasperated, could have been surprised and maybe impressed and could have been all of those things at once, that Peter would be thinking about for the rest of the afternoon.

After less than an hour at his first party, Peter realised that Mag had prepared him to survive so many dangerous, almost apocalyptic situations, how to save his own skin at the very last moment, how to save a planet, how to play the parts of a hundred different people he wasn’t, down to the bone.

But he hadn’t taught him the first thing about how to be the kid he was.

At first, Peter had felt a little foolish when Ben had offered to meet him halfway to the kid’s house so they could all walk in together. He knew he was supposed to be playing the shell shocked, anxious new kid and should be gratified that it was clearly convincing but still, something about someone assuming he needed his hand held rankled him. It always had.

But from the moment they’d stepped over the threshold of the tiny apartment halfway up a rather badly slanting block, into a world of throbbing music, bodies pressed close together, the heady smell of sweat, sweet smoke and spilled alcohol and next to no light, Peter was glad he had some familiar faces to cling to. It was immediately overwhelming, the sheer wall of noise he couldn’t pick apart into useable information, the way people kept bumping into him like he was too insignificant to be worth noticing, how it was too dark for him to get a clear idea of where the exits were or get any handle on what sort of people were currently surrounding him like a tide.

And it was even worse when, inevitably, the constantly shifting gravitational pull of the drinks table, the small space that had been cleared as a sort of dance floor and the loose knot of kids smoking something that gave off a distinct sickly smell dragged all of his temporary friends away from Peter, leaving him hugging one of the far walls like it was a raft adrift in a choppy sea. Completely alone.

He told himself he was being foolish. He knew Mag had attended all kinds of balls, galas and events in a hundred different stolen tuxedos and stolen names. Peter knew how to charm people, he knew how to move through social circles effortlessly, he even knew which fork to use first if he ever found himself dining with Venusian royalty. But this kind of party was a different beast entirely, something he wasn’t even sure Mag would have been able to navigate. It was loud and oppressive, the outfits were sparing and caught the moonlight in distracting ways, people were shouting and moving in ways he didn’t understand. And it felt like everyone was looking at him with judgement in their eyes. Not that he cared.  

Peter looked around for Benzaiten and Mick with their reassuring way of putting their arms around him, for Sasha’s comforting, unflappable presence. But Ben and Mick were clearly very preoccupied, apparently drunk without even needing a drop of the many varieties of mind altering substances laid out on the far side of the room, dancing together in a way that Peter definitely didn’t want to interrupt and wasn’t even sure he should be looking at. Sasha had been pulled into a game of spin the bottle with her debate team friends, another thing Peter didn’t want to even approach.

He stifled a groan, pretending to check his comms just for something to do with his hands and to try and put off the strangers who kept coming up and yelling in his ear to offer him beers he didn’t want. But all that gave him was a depressing look at the time on his screen. Just past eleven pm, they’d been here for no more than five minutes. Clearly coming here had been a disastrous idea; he hadn’t planned for it, he’d let his mind stray off the task at hand yet again and he was paying the price.

You let Juno distract you, a chagrined voice murmured in his mind, somehow making itself heard over the music rattling the floorboards.

Mouth twisting, Peter shoved his comms back in his pocket and made for the door before any more thoughts could arise. He definitely wasn’t going to be putting tonight in his report to Mag, that was for sure.

Why this particular voice stood out when everything else was just a wall of incomprehensible, pulsing noise, Peter couldn’t say. Why it made him stop, when he was just a few steps from the door, a few steps away from peace and distance from the humiliation settling heavily in his chest, he couldn’t say either. But it did.

“Hey Steel, looking for someone you haven’t hooked up with yet? That’s got to be like, what, two people?”

Peter stilled, his eyes drawn over to the drinks table where a kid their age was leaning, a taunting smirk visible on their face even with what little light there was. And their eyes, sharp and mocking, were fixed on Juno.

Juno had been the first one of their little group Peter had lost track of in the chaos, something he’d been a little relieved about. The other three had been wearing slightly nicer, skimpier versions of their usual clothes, it wasn’t like any kid who went to Oldtown High could afford anything of ridiculously high quality. Peter himself had just exchanged his thrift store t-shirt for one that fit him slightly better, still with the same faded jeans and oversize trainers, something that wasn’t making him feel any less out of place.

But something about Juno’s outfit had been particularly...distracting. The same fishnets and combat boots as the first day they’d met, the same excessive jewellery and make up but now paired with a black miniskirt dress in some material that shone with a kind of iridescence, cut so the hem of it barely skated the upper third of his thigh. Looking at him dressed like that had brought a blush to his cheeks it had been very hard to keep at bay. So seeing him disappear into the crush of bodies, an expression like this was his element on his face, had been something of a relief.

But here he was now, looking just as distracting even with a dangerous look on his face aimed directly at the person who’d spoken.

“What’s wrong, Jones, sore I’ve never come to ask you?” he shot back, taking a long drink from the bottle of beer he’d just picked up, “Sorry, I just didn’t think we’d have a lot of chemistry what with you being a raging asshole and all.”

Something clicked in Nureyev’s mind, a memory slotting into place. This was who Juno had been fighting with on the day he’d come to Oldtown High, the person who’d blackened his eye and split his lip.

Something similar looked like it was brewing, from the way the kid stalked closer to Juno, until they were toe to toe. They were bigger than Juno by a good few inches, most people were even with the thick soles of his boots, but something flashing in Juno’s eyes made it not matter.

“I think I should finish what I started the other day,” Jones snarled, “Your face isn’t looking busted up enough for my liking.”

“You’re really welcome to try,” Juno’s lip curled, “See what happens.”

Peter’s eye caught movement at the kid’s side, just another shadow in amongst a room made up of them. They had a bottle too, hanging in a loose grip, Juno mustn’t have seen it and, nose to nose with them, he also didn’t see how it was rising, how their grip was tightening around the neck, how they were about to swing it’s full weight into the side of Juno’s head.

Again, Peter moved on instinct, seeing danger rising and snapping to attention with no thought other than to act. He surged forward, gripping the back of Juno’s dress and yanking him away, so the bottle missed his face by an inch. Carrying forward with the same momentum, taking advantage of the split second where they were trying to redress their balance, Peter palm struck them right in the nose. He had no muscle to speak of so everything Mag had taught him had been focused on using his opponents movements against them, turning their strength back on them when he couldn’t provide his own. So as Jones reeled back, blood flying from their nose in an arc that caught Peter across the face, he swept their feet out from under them, sending them crashing back so their head thudded heavily on the floor, dizzying them.

For a long, drawn out second, the whole party had their eyes fixed on Peter, completely stunned, Juno, Ben, Mick and Sasha included. If the music hadn’t still been pounding through every surface, it would have been deadly silent, the whole world shrunk down to this one kid, panting heavily with blood hot on his face.

What broke it was Juno, reaching forward and seizing Peter’s hand, murmuring, “Run.”

So they did.

Sheer adrenaline carried them forward as they fled down the stairs, out onto the street and away. Peter’s pulse was a racket in his ears, like the beat of the music was still following them even as they put blocks between them and the party. All he could do was follow Juno, their joined hands as unbreakable as an iron chain, as he pulled him along. The streetlights, the faces of pedestrians, the store fronts around them blurred into insignificance as they ran, he was only aware of the salty taste of blood on his lips and the heat of Juno’s skin against his own. He seemed to know where they were going and Peter was content to follow.

Finally they burst through some iron gates and were suddenly surrounded by trees, shoes pounding over pathways covered in leaves, the smell of rich earth and damp wood around them, so different from the smoke and stink of the city. When they skidded to a halt, it was in the dead centre of this park, beside a dry fountain, it’s grand curves and sweeping spouts looking strangely sad and barren in the night.

Peter’s lungs were burning in his chest and he spent some time doubled over, hands braced on his knees, painfully pulling in air. He could hear Juno doing the same beside him though, after a while, his gasping turned into rough, wild laughter.

Peter straightened up, frowning uncertainly. It sounded like Juno was losing his mind, laughing so hard he couldn’t stand up, sinking down with his back against the basin of the fountain. But after a moment, he found himself grinning too, thin shoulders shaking with his own manic giggles as the mad rush of their escape ebbed away and left them only able to cackle at the absurdity of it all.

“Did you see their face?” Juno finally managed to gasp out, voice raw, tears actually in his eyes, “You must have broke their fucking nose!”

Peter winced ruefully, sitting down on the gravelled ground beside Juno, “They’re going to be out for my blood tomorrow, aren’t they?”

“Doubt it, it’s me Jones really hates. Sad thing is, it is actually because I wouldn’t fuck them which is pretty damn ironic. Besides, if they do, you can just pull more of that ninja shit out of absolutely nowhere,” Juno snorted, “Where the hell did you even learn to do that? It was like the fence thing all over again, you keep doing the strangest, coolest shit with no warning...”

Peter swallowed, not sure what to say that wasn’t going to affirm Juno’s suspicions about him or reveal more about himself than was ever going to be a good idea, “I just...I just know how to take care of myself.”

Juno coughed roughly into his fist, finally getting control over himself, “Clearly. Jones was about to brain me with that bottle before you swept in and saved the day…” his expression changed then, something in it tightening, “Why did you even do that? Why not just let me get a face full of glass? I’ve been enough of a dick to you to deserve it.”

Peter dropped his eyes, “You have. But that could have seriously hurt you, they were going right for your eyes. And, well, Jones seemed like slightly more of a dick than you.”

“Slightly?” Juno chuckled roughly, his face softening again, “Well...thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a moment of awkward pause before Juno leaned over and rubbed some of the blood off Peter’s cheek with a thumb, “Hey, uh...I do kind of owe you an apology. For...being the way I am. Ben and Sasha, hell even Mick, they’ve been giving me shit about it.”

Peter had to force himself to listen, so much of his brain was laser focused on that tumb against his skin, that touch, “I...I think I get it. You have a really good thing going with your friends and I just showed up out of the blue and changed things.”

Juno looked taken aback and suddenly the blush on his cheeks could have been his make up or it could have been something else, “Uh...okay. Fair. That’s pretty close to the mark.”

Peter cleared his throat quickly, realising he’d shown a little more of his hand than he’d meant to. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol back at the party, or ever for that matter, and he hadn’t smoked anything beyond what already hung on the air but something about the split second fight, the running and something about being sat here with Juno now was giving him a similar buzz in his blood and lightheadedness he’d always assumed came along with that sort of thing.

First rule of thieving, always keep a clear head he thought and felt guilty. He was trying.

“But Ben basically adopted you, it’s not your fault,” Juno frowned, picking at his nail polish, “It’s not an excuse for me being a dick. Yeah, you’re strange and you know how to do weird stuff and there’s things you’re not telling us...but hell, that’s basically everyone.”

“Thanks?” Peter said with an unsure smile, making Juno laugh again. The lightheadedness got worse then.

Juno shrugged, leaning far back enough so he was looking up at the stars. They reflected back in his dark eyes, pinpoint sparks in what looked like nothingness but was so much more. For the first time since he’d met Mag, Peter got the sense that someone understood him. That if he told them everything about himself, his fears and hopes, the planets he wanted to walk on some day, the world he wanted to make for himself and why, Juno would understand. Maybe even in a way Mag didn’t.

And he couldn’t say a word to him. He didn’t even know his real last name.

At that moment, Peter Nureyev could have cried.

“Bet Benten’s already texted me a million times,” Juno sighed, “Worrying about where I am’s probably really cutting into his making out with Mick time.”

Peter forced a smile, “We could go back.”

Juno paused then shook his head, voice softer and quieter than before, “Nah. Not yet. Five more minutes.”

Relief poured through Peter’s chest, even with the sadness still smouldering like embers in his stomach that wouldn’t go out. He wasn’t ready to go back either.

“Hey, huddle in, would ya, it’s freezing,” Juno grunted, suddenly drawing right up close until his side was flush against Peter’s, even going as far as to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder.

Despite what he’d said, his skin was so warm and he smelled of pot smoke, cheap beer and some flowery perfume. His head was heavy on Peter’s thin shoulder and his curls tickled his nose. But Peter couldn’t have moved away if his life depended on it.

Because even if he couldn’t have that understanding, even if he couldn’t let Juno really see him, he could have this. He could have these bitterly cold five minutes in a darkened park by a broken fountain with uncomfortable gravel under his ass, blood drying on his cheek and another boy’s head on his shoulder.

And if that was all he’d ever get, then Peter Nureyev was grabbing it with both hands and never letting go.

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #jupeter #high school au #peter nureyev #juno steel #benzaiten steel #mick mercury #ben/mick #sasha wire #fic #pweeeease reblog and comment

[unbelievableholland]

Hiii! I’m happy to say that I’ve reached 500 followers! I’m shook as hell, thank you guys! In celebration, until August 1, 2020 I’ll be hosting a writing challenge and a sleepover until May 15, 2020. Everything will be tagged under #sophias500followerscelebration and the entries for the writing challenge will be added to my masterlist. 

Sleepover:

Rules: Don’t be offensive to anyone please, or I won’t answer your ask. Be polite and respect the othersss.

🗯: Blog compliment or shout out

🎶: I’ll recommend you a song from my playlist based on you/your blog 

🎼: I’ll recommend you a song specifically from a musical based on you/your blog

📖: I’ll give you a line from one of my WIPs

❓: Ask me anything!

🎭: Talk to me about acting or theatre because y’all know I’m a theatre nerd.

🎨: Let’s talk art! Any type of art. Anything at all.

🔍: Fic rec!

✒️: Blurb! 

✨: Have you ever…

🎀: Would you rather...

You can talk about anything during the sleepover though!

Writing Challenge:

Everything will be tagged as #sophias500followerscelebration and #sophias500followerswc

Rules:

You don’t have to be following me to enter, but it would be nice if you did hehehe

Everyone can join!

3 people per dialogue prompt.

3 people per trope.

If you want to join, send me an ask with the prompt you chose or the trope you picked. You’re allowed to choose one of each.

Please add a ‘read more’ if your fic exceeds 500 words. If you can’t though and your Tumblr's malfunctioning like it was for me, then it’s aight. 

Your fic can be part of a series!

It can be an x reader, an x OC or a character x character.

It can be angst, fluff, or smut, but if you’re going to write smut, please give proper warnings and make sure your characters are over 18.

Do not write anything with pedophelia, incest or anything like that.

Warnings please! For anything that might be triggering for some people.

You can write for any Marvel characters + Tom Holland & co.

There’s no minimum or maximum for the word count.

You can include any amount of characters in your fic.

Tag me in your work so I can see it!

Use the tag ‘#sophias500followerwc’

If I don’t respond to your ask within 3 days, message me to make sure I got it.

Message me too if you’ve uploaded your fics to make sure I see it.

Deadline is August 1, 2020. But if you need an extension, it’s ok! Just message me about it!

You can write about anything you want as long as it has the prompt that you picked and/or that it follows the trope you chose. Make sure that it goes by the rules too.

Lastly, have fun! Don’t stress over it. Each and every piece of writing will be appreciated 💕

I can’t wait to read you work! I seriously hope this doesn’t flop lmao 🤣

Tropes and Prompts under the cut!

Tropes:

Enemies to lovers

Fake dating AU

Soulmate AU 1/3 - @halfblood-princess-505

Hanahaki 

Mob! AU

Coffee shop AU

‘There was only one bed’

Amnesia/Temporary amnesia

Roommates

Best friends to lovers

Quarantined together

Dialogue Prompts:

“Chickens? Really?”

“Good for you!”

“You have to let me go, even if it hurts the both of us.”

“Oh come on. You act like it’s the worst thing I’ve done.” 1/3 - @nekoannie-chan

“You’re telling me that I’m STUCK HERE?!”

“I’m not sleeping next to you.”

“Please no. Flowers terrify me now.”

“I only want what I find for myself.”

“You’ve heard my side of the story, now let’s hear yours”

“And before you ask, no, I don’t believe in soulmates.”

“Seriously??? That’s your third burger!”

“No one’s gonna hurt you.”

“What makes you think I was acting?”

“Fuck no.”

“You’re such a drama queen!”

“I will never regret loving you.” 1/3 - @halfblood-princess-505

“Just let me try, ok?”

“He doesn’t have a real job anyway.”

“I do.”

“These things do happen.”

“Hey! You take that back!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make it.”

“You’ve never seen Hamilton?!”

“I can’t tell you.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Wait, you’re sure?? Like, sure?”

“It was a mistake! I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Are you trying to charm me with food?”

“You don’t know who Lea Salonga is?!”

“Drink with me”

If you caught those references, I love y'all. But if you didn't, I still love y'all.

Tagging some of my beloved mutuals for sb, I hope you guys don’t mind 😅: 

@eeyore101247​ @euphoria-parker​ @chaoticprincesspeach​ @tomhollandsmut​ @parkeret​ @cherryredparker​ @spideygirl2003​ @farfromhaz​ @hollanderheart​ @worldoftom​ @spideybrie​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quackeroos​ @peeterparkr​ 

#sophias500followercelebration #sophias500followerwc #sleepover #writing challenge #sb #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x you #Peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #tom holland angst #tom holland soulmate au #peter parker imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #sam holland x reader #harry holland x reader #tom holland writing challenge #peter parker writing challenge #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loki odinson x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #thor odinson x reader #sam wilson x reader

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.||2

chapter two: make a guest list

MADE OF HONOR|AU

So, after that photoshoot, I decided to get back on my shit. I’m re-uploading it, editing it and changing a few things. Yes, I’ve posted this fic before but I feel like I’ve grown as a writer and it’s a fic with so much more potential.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the graduation, and with Tom and Y/N knowing they both have thought about it. 

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: alcohol , swearing, graduation

word count: 6k (wow)

As usual tell me what you think

previous chapter

next chapter

series masterlist

4 years later. 

Tom’s phone was vibrating as the Spider-Man ringtone was playing. He tried to open his eyes but was too tired, he rubbed them as he tried to get off the woman that was kindly resting of his bare chest. Her hair was falling down on his shoulders and her fingers were caressing his arm. She moved while Tom, midst yawns, turned off his alarm. 

He opened his eyes and looked at the time. 

“Shit!” He quickly hopped off the bed letting the girl fall flat on the white blankets. He kept cursing under his breath while putting on his pants. “Hmm, where are you going?” The just awoken girl asked, confused by the lack of warmth she was faced with. She covered herself and reached out for his hand, impeding him from putting on his shirt and pulling him back beside her. She danced her fingers over his chest from behind, causing a paused laughter from Tom. 

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “I’m leaving.” “Just like that?” She asked. “So soon?” “Yep.”  “Oh, I thought we were gonna grab breakfast and arrive together,” she complained and then placed a kiss on his shoulder. “Please sweetheart, I’ve got more important things to do,” he admitted. “And we both know that your boyfriend won’t be happy. Neither won’t y/n.” “What if I call you later?” She offered. “We could hang out after it.” “You perfectly know I won’t answer, no back-to-back’s, remember? besides, what for? We both got what we wanted, already.” Tom pushed her arms away, turning around to wink at her. “I guess I don’t have to say this anymore, right? the whole congratulations! You’ve slept with a celebrity,” he rolled his eyes as he put on his shirt. “But-” Before she could say anything, he walked back to place a finger over her lips. “Tom.” “No buts, I’m leaving, Rach,” he leaned over to kiss her but she frowned, pushing his face away. 

“You’re an ass,” she stated. 

Tom chuckled, “Good thing you were really into mine, last night, huh?” Tom shrugged while he picked up his stuff. “Get out.” “And what do you think I’m doing, darling?” Tom walked out of her room and headed to the kitchen. He opened up the fridge and got out a juice box, he didn’t even care about pulling out a glass as he drank it straight from the box. “What do you think you’re doing?” Rachel asked him. “I’m thirsty, you know, I thought I told you you should buy the organic one instead, tastes better, next time I guess,” Tom answered with poor elegance as he handed the box back, now empty, while saluting with his two fingers, walking to the door. “Buy-bye, I hope we can do this again. See you later.” The girl screamed, kicked and slapped the door shut right behind him. “Guess not.” Tom let out a little cynical snicker while getting out. It could have been worse, he didn’t care, he knew he could call her up in a week or two and she’d answer. Tom called Harrison. “Hey, man, need a favour, would you please go and pick up the flowers I ordered? K. Cool, thanks, see ya there, can’t run late.” 

“You’re already late,” Harrison had stated before hanging up. Tom quickly hopped into his motorcycle while heading home. He had little time for what came next and he needed to look impeccable. He was riding through the busy and crowded streets of London, dedicating smiles to whoever recognized him. Gosh, even if he was wearing whatever he was wearing the day before, he looked so damn good. His ‘walk of shame’ made everyone else’s more shameful than they already were. 

Thing was, he knew it. He was perfectly aware that his Bad Boy appearance wasn’t strong enough to outshine his good and innocent boy facade. But at the same time, it gave everyone a chance to use their imagination and just try to figure him out. Only the people surrounding him knew he was indeed, the best friend they could ask for, they figured he was a good lover, too, but never someone to even try to get into a relationship with, that just wouldn’t work out. But people couldn’t stop thinking about it, because he was oh, so dreamy! His charming and innocent attitude quickly would outgrow anything bad. He already had all the attention he needed, but of course, he was hungry for more. Hence the motorbike, it added just the right amount of rebellion, to the new James Dean vibe he was trying to pull. 

He was late, so late. However, his stomach couldn’t stop growling and his eyes were closing. He stopped at a Starbucks. Clearly, he was diverting every single glance while arriving. He had the complete look, the leather jacket, ripped jeans and the boots. A whole snack, if it’s correct to call him that. It suited him. He picked up his helmet strutting to the entrance, even the baristas were left in shock breathless. The sweet redhead barista sketched him a flirty smile, while she scribbled Tom’s name on his cup. “Is it okay if I write Spider-Man instead of Tom?” She asked with a chuckle. 

Tom only winked at her while letting his hand run through his hair. “Whatever you wish for, darling.” The endearing pet name that would cause them all to fall flat to his feet. The power it held should be illegal. Darling. He knew it worked, because the undeniable line of girls that would ask him to say it only proved that it was his biggest weapon. 

He took a sip of his coffee while he read his name, kindly accompanied by a phone number. What a surprise. “See you around, Gloria,” Tom said with a wink. 

He drank his coffee, as some other girls approached him to take a picture with him, he knew they had taken pictures of him from afar. And there he left again, of course not forgetting to write down the girl’s number on his phone. He’d text her, sometime, maybe in 3 days. But he went back home, took a hot shower and put on the all suit he had chosen like a month before. His hair was perfectly brushed, and he had showered himself with lotion, he looked handsome and neat, he thought. 

He stopped in front of the mirror, doubting just for a second if it was right how he wanted to look, he changed the jacket for his own brown leather jacket. That was better, he snapped a picture, he liked the man looking back at the mirror. He doubted if it was too much. Ah, it didn’t matter. When it came to her, it didn’t matter. 

Tom arrived, just a tad late, of course, but he knew that he’d be the centre of attention, and that was all he wanted. That was, clearly, before he realized how awkward walking through the already sitting crowd would be. He finally found Harrison, who had saved him a seat. He had arrived just in time, ish. The ceremony had already started, but he had missed the boring parts, so it was good. 

“Where were you?” Haz murmured angrily, as soon as Tom sat beside him. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Tom defended himself as Haz gave him the bouquet of flowers he had asked for. “Where is she?”  “Shh, she’ll be out, easy,” Haz said. “I don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“Me neither,” Tom admitted. 

Haz stared at Tom, and smelled him. “Someone showered in Gucci instead of water,” he mocked. “One might only wonder why.” 

Tom nudged and shushed him. “And now our first class graduates, graduating with honours from the Bachelor of Journalism,” the man on the microphone spoke. Tom smirked as he got out his phone to take pictures. Harrison laughed. “You’re worse than a mother,” Harrison bothered him, but Tom ignored him. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N” They called her and she proudly walked into the stage to receive her diploma. 

The ceremony ended and after meeting with her mom and grandma, she ran over to Tom, who opened his arms to hug her and pick her up. 

“There she is, the woman of the moment!” Tom grinned. 

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed. 

“You don’t know how proud I am of you, y/n,” Tom whispered in her ear. “You actually came,” she chuckled. “You sound surprised,” he frowned. “I wouldn’t miss your graduation for anything in this world,” Tom grinned. She let him go, but her hands were still posing on his shoulders. “Thought that last night you told me you were with someone,” she said. “I was.” 

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Will you ever change?” She finally let him go as she smiled at her grandma. “Thank you so much, nana,” she hugged the woman. “They’d be so proud of you,” the woman said with tears in her eyes. “I know,” answered y/n with a tinge of sadness. Tom quickly gave her the bouquet of flowers, bringing a smile back on her face. 

“We are all proud of you,” her mother stepped in to remind her.”You did all of this by yourself, you did it!” 

“Mum,” y/n said, just a little bit embarrassed. Y/n smiled and glanced over to the cheerful Harrison who offered her a hug. 

“Congrats, Sherlock.” 

“Thank you, Watson,” she giggled. 

“So, are you going to interview me already?” Tom asked, with a chuckle. “I mean if you call yourself a journalist.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Why would I? I know everything about you already, mister,” she chuckled. “But if I may,” she cleared her throat and pulled out one of the flowers. 

She turned around and used the flower as a microphone. “Hello ladies and Gentleman, tonight we are all pleased to be hosting this event, the red carpet for the big movie, the one we’ve all been waiting for, the thrilling sequel to ‘We thought she wouldn’t survive the last finals’,” she took a deep breath. “I’m here joined by Tom Holland, one of the stars from the movie, who seems very excited, hey Tom! How are you? We love your outfit.”

“Hello, hello,” Tom faked arrogance as he unzipped his jacket. 

“I can’t believe we are here already! The big premier to the movie we’ve all been waiting for: ‘ridiculous and cliche graduation pictures’! Such a great title that just makes me shirker! Mr. Holland how was acting along with your two  best friends, Harrison and Y/N?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he played along. “You see, it’s a very interesting film, it was shockingly violent, acting with them was amazing, Haz did a great job, but this movie wouldn’t be possible without the amazing role y/n played, she surprised us all.” 

“Ah, yes the stunts she pulled, one would’ve thought she couldn’t have made it, don’t you think?” She bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. “After the events of ‘We thought she wouldn’t survive the last finals’, y/n must have been through a lot.” 

“Definitely, some of those stunts were hard, I could never do something like that, but thank goodness that she pulled them off so elegantly.” 

“Of course, of course,” she giggled but then turned back serious. “So please, tell me, what was your favourite scene?” 

“Uh,” Tom bit his lip. “I love we were able to do that scene when it all started, with an almost broken nose and Chanel n°5,” Tom said. “I think I thank god every day for that scene.”

“Yes we all do,” she agreed with a tinge of red on her cheeks, she cleared her throat and turned to Haz. “Any words on the film? Mr Osterfield?Who are you wearing tonight?”

“You guys are the worst,” Haz stated, rolling his eyes. Both y/n and Tom laughed. 

Y/N’s mother nodded in agreement.  “Can we please take the pictures now?” 

“You’re taking away all the fun, guys,” y/n complained. 

“We didn’t even get her to be interviewing us at the Oscars,” Tom pouted. “You both are the biggest idiots,” Haz told them.

“Thanks,” they both said in unison.

“C’mon,I need my bloody cliché pictures,” she said dragging them to the side. They found the champagne as well on their way. They drank a glass, took pictures, congratulated other graduates while some other graduates were divided: some were amazed by the presence of Tom and Haz, while some others were disgusted by Tom, probably from their past encounters.

 Y/N laughed while Tom and her walked away from her mom and nana, who were talking nonstop with another graduate’s parents. Y/N’s best friends, Hannah, Jessica and Lizzie had come too, and Haz and Jess were talking. Lizzie was glaring at Tom. “She still remembers how you broke her heart,” y/n pointed out as she took a sip of her champagne. “Probably most girls here do, now that I think about it.” She turned around to look at the guests. “Wow, there goes Rachel, I thought she wouldn’t come, she texted me that she would only come if you weren’t here,” she pointed at her old roommate. “You wanna go say hello? bet she’ll be delighted with your presence,” y/n laughed with malice while Tom rolled his eyes. “Ah, sure, I’ll go say hi to all of them,” he joked. “Oh, she did come.” “She came to congratulate me, I guess,” y/n said. “I don’t know, but I bet she’s not approaching us.” 

“Not if I’m here,” Tom admitted.

Y/N chuckled.“Can you blame her? We started to hang out every single day and she was embarrassed that she almost slept with you that night” 

“Almost?” Tom smirked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Wait, did you—when did that—?”

Tom didn’t answer, he just sipped from his glass, holding back his snicker. 

“Thomas!” Y/N frowned as she started to make some calculations on her head. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“I’m not,” Tom shrugged. “That’s the only secret I have for you, I guess.” That was a lie. 

“When did it happen?” She frowned. 

“The first time? our first New Years eve together,” he chuckled. 

“First—?” Y/N blinked. “And the last time?” 

Tom started to count with his fingers. “About five—maybe six?”

“Six?” 

“Yeah, six hours ago,” he smirked. “After the party.” 

Y/N crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you,” she scowled. “I thought we had agreed on no friends of mine, you’re making me lose them.” 

Tom side hugged her and she just pushed him away. “Y/N I’m sorry.” 

But he truly wasn’t sorry, because what he had done with Rachel was yet again another attempt for him to stop himself from ruining the best relationship he had. Him and y/n had been too close the night before, and he had thought about kissing her, and he had thought about holding her. So he had to stop himself from having those thoughts, hence why he ended up shagging Rachel. It was a strict business. 

And it wasn’t like he had feelings for y/n, but sometimes he couldn’t deny that the way she smiled or the way she touched his shoulder would make his imagination go wild. 

“Be thankful those three haven’t stopped talking to me,” she motioned to her three friends. “I would’ve dumped your ass by now.” “Lizzie is still mad, huh?” Tom looked behind his shoulder. "And she will continue to be mad," Y/N reminded him, starting to walk further away. "You know, I turn to see most of the girls and almost all of them, you've broken their hearts."

"I've always been clear with my rules," Tom mentioned. "It's not my fault to be so charming."

Y/N shook his head. "I can't believe you," she said. "You're awful."

"Only if you sleep with me, I am," Tom agreed. "But look at us, we're fine."

Y/N kept walking, Tom following her. "You tried to sleep with me, though."

"Oh, I did, and you didn't give in,” Tom smiled. 

"I'm happy I did not." She laughed. “I would probably look like poor Rachel over there.” 

"What would have happened?" Tom asked her.

"I don't know, probably what you do with all of them, throw them away the next day,” she pointed out. 

"You never know," said Tom, watching her. 

"And we will never know because you haven't tried since," she smiled mischievously. 

Tom cleared his throat, as he blushed. “Nope.” That was another lie. 

"Who would say that someone like you would become my best friend?" She dedicated him a confused look. 

"I don't know, I'm grateful that my seductive gifts didn't work that day we met." Tom scoffed. 

Y/N nodded. “Cheers to that.” 

Tom noticed y/n’s tinge of sadness. "You're good?"

Y / N shrugged. "I do not know, I want to say yes. But everything is so overwhelming right now.” 

“The real world is waiting for you,” He said spraying his arms. 

“That’s scary,” she said and sighed. “I miss them.” 

And Tom knew why she had turned blue. 

“Bet they’re proud of you,” he said, lifting her chin. Only with her he could do this and be sure she wouldn’t be high heels for him. 

"Yes, and because of them I did it," she said. "I would like to go back and tell them, show both of them that I could do it, that I kept my promise."

Tom hugged her, while she only smiled bitterly at him. Tom knew how important this day was to her and how hard it was now that he remembered. Besides, it was more complicated while she watched the other families, all complete.

Her father and brother had died 2 years before. Tom still remembered how she had come to him and how she had curled up in the warmth of his arms. Sobbing and letting little pieces of her escape in each tear. Her life had collapsed into small pieces that had already vanished. It had been a car accident, Tom had never gone with the details. It was a horror story. She still had not overcome anything, and she never would. But Tom had been the small ray of light that illuminated her darkest moments, he had been there when she needed him the most.

As he held her he felt her release all her pain, as if Tom's arms had healing powers.

"You graduated," Tom told her, letting his head rest on her. It was weird, Tom knew that with her he could let loose all the 'bad boy' style. With her, he could let himself be carried away. He could be vulnerable and not all the farce that was charged.

"You guys say it like it’s a big deal, and shit it is."She let him go and smiled at him. "It scares me," she confessed. "It's strange as if... I still feel that it's not true."

"You have your diploma, don't you?"

"Sure, of course, but, I feel like I'm missing something in my life, I dunno," she told him. 

"What do you mean?" Tom questioned her.

"I dunno, I need to go out more, you know? I feel like I need to define myself before continuing, sort things out,” she added. "Anyway."

"Define yourself."

"Yes, I dunno, to explore the world before dedicating myself completely, to explore for a while, all my life I have been someone who has been locked up with perfect grades, and everything has been planned, so for the first time I want to be... free, to try other lands, not have to hide away.”

"Sure, of course, live a little."

"Something I've learned from you," she joked, staring at him. "Try different things, and then throw them away the very next day."

"Ah, come on," Tom shook his head, "you make it sound like it's awful, look at you now, having doubts when you literally just graduated."

"It is awful when it is with people," she corrected him. "Look, I just know I need a break."

"So you're not going to look out for a job?" Tom asked her.

"I already have, and—I got a job offer, but," she explained. "I feel like, I need something more. I need to sort something out before I do anything stupid."

Tom had already had this conversation with her. Y/N had done everything she had planned. Everything perfect, but at the same time, there was always a certain rebellion. She was independent but she had put on her own barriers, she had simply fulfilled the life of a perfect girl. But it was authentic, with her inappropriate comments, her blatant attitude, and her crazy ideas she had managed to tear apart the perfect girl without destroying it.  However, she was always held back by some fears, fears that Tom had noticed but she never really explained. He did not blame her, Tom was as scared as she was. Yet, it was the opposite. His biggest fear was the greatest strength of Y/N. Commitment. 

It was weird, while he was so committed to what he did, his acting career, he did not know how to escape later, Tom was so terrified that he was doing his best to avoid it, he was an expert escaping. 

She needed stability and plans while Tom liked spontaneity. They did not really know how their friendship worked. They liked being different. They needed each other, y/n didn't let Tom lose sanity and Tom made y/n take a little time to have fun, even to clear up.

"And what is that ... something else?" Tom asked.

"For now, I need to go out," she told him. "Have fun."

Tom smiled grimly. "With that, I can help."

"I asked you for a reason."

"Actually, I'm glad you did it then, Haz and I have something planned."

—- The music was loud and the blue lights lit up to the rhythm, making each rumble shine around them. They were in their best clothes, and there were boys and girls dancing near them. Some bottles and some glasses were on their table.

They had had a good time so far, and they were snapping pictures and recording Instagram stories while they were cheering out for the just graduated y/n, laughing. 

“So what’s the news, y/n?” Tom said, a terrible pun, really. 

Y N rolled her eyes at Tom but gave him another smile. 

After the event, they had gone to have dinner with her mother and grandmother. Tom and Y/N had shared their plates and ordered two different desserts. 

But now, they were enjoying themselves with y/n's friends, Tuwaine, Haz, and the twins. Tom had been a little uncomfortable with Lizzie, who completely tried ignored Tom's gaze at all costs. Harrison was not having a bad time, because Jess and him were having a nice conversation, Hannah and the twins were having the time of their lives and Tuwaine and his girlfriend were dancing.

Unfortunately, Tom had had to invite y/n's three friends. He didn’t mind Hannah and Jess, but Lizzie, Lizzie was a whole other situation. She was obsessed with him, and the tension in the room was something too peculiar. He had tried to ignore it but, but she had her ways of bothering him. Especially since Tom wanted to spend most of his time with y/n, and Lizzie kept dragging her away.

Tom had what he could say was the perfect life in terms of relationships, and he was well aware of that. Knowing that Lizzie was just trying to get his attention, he realized how easy his life was. He had a different woman when he pleased and could have fun all day with y/n. A perfect balance.

Now in the club, he was having the best time.

Celebrating the graduate with the best of everything, anything that could make the impossible possible. Tom seemed to not get tired of telling her how proud he was, and then as he was drinking more and more he couldn’t stop telling her beautiful she looked and she kept smiling shyly.

They danced together and laughed. He wasn’t sure if it was the music, the atmosphere, the type of reunion or the alcohol, but he felt that their looks had become significantly more flirtatious. It probably was his imagination.

They took some shots, showed their worst dance steps and kept enjoying. They ordered too many things and the attention in the club was diverted many times to their table.

Tom would not let his hand move away from y/n's waist in the whole night, but at some point, they both sat down to rest. There were times when Tom could not stop thinking about how she was his everything, this was one of those moments. He could never lose her, he loved her too much to ever let her go. It was amazing what Tom would be willing to do for her.

They were too close, everything platonic of course, so her head on his shoulder was nothing strange to him. Tom finally relaxed watching as their friends were having fun, although a fan interrupted them and asked Tom for a picture, who agreed with pleasure. Y/N watched them and the fan recognized her.

"You are y/n, I've seen you with Tom on his Instagram!" The fan cheered, and she laughed awkwardly. Tom noticed that the alcohol they had drunk had had an effect on his friend.

"Yep, that's me."

"You two make a beautiful couple!" The fan commented, causing her to shake her head quickly and Tom to laugh uncomfortably.

"Nono, nothing like that," Tom clarified, causing the fan to step back embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," the fan apologized. Tom winked at her before she left. 

Y/N giggled when she saw her leave. "She thought we're dating.” 

"She's not the first," Tom said, sitting down next to her.

"Nor will she be the last," she added. "Ha, you and me, a couple?"

"Ah, I love you too much to let you go with a stupid relationship."

"You're never going to try, then?" She asked him, and she did what she did best, stare into his eyes as if she was trying to read into his soul. And even if her eyes looked tipsy, he still thought they were the most amazing pair of eyes he had ever laid his eyes on. Tom did not know exactly where she wanted to go with that conversation. He knew that she didn't want him, so he did not need to worry. Or maybe he did.

"No, I love you, I want you in my life, I already told you," Tom assured her. "Or do you want me to try something?" He didn’t know where that question had come from. 

"We are too drunk for this conversation," she said as she reached for her glass, but then turned back to him.

"So you're telling me," Tom said as he rested his forehead on hers. "That you have  thought about this?"

"You're my best friend," she reproached him, pushing his head away. Tom brushed his lips lightly against her cheek.

"You have not thought about this?" Tom left a kiss on her neck, he felt her warm-up. She didn’t say anything. She cleared her throat and pushed him away again. 

"No, I just wanted to hear you didn't want to throw me away," she laughed. "What would I do without my Peter Parker?"

"I do not know," Tom looked at her. "You need me, and I need you.” 

"Don't start, Holland," she stopped him as she shuffled to get far from him. "But yes, I can tell you ... I wuv you!"

"Well, someone's a little drunk," Tom said as he watched her. Y/N kissed his nose. "Very drunk."

"I'm not," she said decisively. "Come on, you have to dance," she said, taking his arm and taking him back to the group as they danced. 

Lizzie was getting drunker and drunker. But y/n and Tom kept taking.

"Thanks for this," she said in Tom's ear, as they danced together.

"For you, I'd do anything," Tom assured him. Y/N paused to stare into his eyes. Tom meant it.

"I owe you one, I needed to forget everything about ..."

"Woah, okay, I need you to have fun, okay? We can mourn together tomorrow, but please! You graduated today! "

"Yes... Yes."

"And you'll be the best journalist, writer, reporter or whatever you want to be in the world," Tom said decisively. She leaned over to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek, their met eyes again, feeling like the music that had previously stunned them was fading slowly, she saw Tom's lips, and Tom saw hers, they came a little closer but they were quickly interrupted by a cry from Lizzie. Tom and Y/N separated before they could do anything foolish, something they could regret.

Lizzie clung to Tom as she danced, and Tom didn't hesitate to let himself go, letting y/n go, while she laughed and played along with Harrison. They both needed to escape from the situation. The night continued and they danced separately. Lizzie kept caressing Tom's shoulders and y/n watched them for a brief moment but let it go. One way or another, Tom ended up kissing Lizzie.

Y/N turned to see them and simply rolled her eyes with a little anger, but continued to dance, chatting and laughing with Tuwaine, the twins, her friends and Haz. She could have enough fun to forget about it. 

Tom and Lizzie were very busy doing their thing so they decided not to interrupt them.

They stayed there until 3 in the morning and they decided they would go to Tom and Harrison's flat, they would continue the party there. Y/N and Haz waited for Tom so the three of them could leave in an Uber, however, Lizzie arrived and discreetly approached y/n's ear.

"Let me go with Tom alone," she begged sweetly. Y/N frowned.

But before she could tell her anything, Lizzie smiled at them as she took the Uber with Tom, his lips still glued to her, closing the door before either Haz or Y/n could hop on.  Haz and Y/N were left along since Tuwaine had left with the twins, Jess and Hannah in another car.

Y/N watched them leave, although she didn't want to admit it, she felt her heartbreaking little by little. But she was trying to ignore it, so she just looked down at her phone.

It was not the first time she felt that Tom and her had something else, this wasn’t the first time they had had their ‘almost’ kiss. It seemed like in the past few months that had been a constant. 

But their friendship was too good to ruin it for their feelings, even if they both said they were non-existent. It was obvious to everyone in the room except for the two of them. She would often deny it to herself and Tom let it escape, ignoring it. But she always had to cross out the thought while seeing him continue with his life.

Harrison smiled apologethically at her. "Lizzie has serious problems, no offence."

"None taken," Y/N clarified as the next Uber arrived. "She's an idiot."

"I’d say Tom is the idiot in that equation."

"No, she knows perfectly well what she is to face with Tom," Y/N explained, as she looked back at her phone."I mean, that does not make Tom less a jerk, but he doesn't play games, he's very clear with his rules."

"Oh, yes, quite clear," Harrison agreed with her. "I think that besides his mother, the only constant woman in his life has been you."

"Someday he will throw me away," she shrugged.

Haz shook his head with a smile. "I doubt that."

"You do?" She questioned him, as they climbed into the car that had arrived.

"Sure, you're what Tom needs to be sane, he worries too much about you, it's unbelievable you're the only serious thing he has in his life."

"There's nothing serious."

"I mean friendship, I know it does not go any further than that, but I'm amazed how he really takes pains to have you happy, he loves you too much," Haz told her.

"Yeah, we are friends."

"I think there's more, but you guys keep ignoring it,” Haz pointed out. 

“Not from his side, no,” She gulped. 

“And from yours?” Haz questioned. 

 Y/N was silent for the rest of the ride. They arrived at Haz' place and she still was thinking about it.

The party continued, the graduate was happy, and they continued joking, playing cards and basically looking for excuses to get even drunker. They made a round of 'never have I ever' which started out as a game to destroy innocence and ended up being a war of who could embarrass who the most. They continued with a round of charades and ended up listening to music, scattered on the chairs. Lizzie and Tom were very interested in each other as they continued with their make-out session, quite gross if you asked anyone in the room.

Almost everyone had gone, only the owners of the place were left with Lizzie and Y/ N.

"Hey, Tom, mind if I stay?" y/n asked before Lizzie threw herself into Tom's arms.

"Oh, no, you’re good, you can stay in the guest room, you know," he told her, while Lizzie kissed his neck. Y / N felt like scorn and was quite disgusted by the scene.

"I'll take a hoodie of yours," she warned him and went to his room. Such a nice room, even if she knew what was about to happen next. She looked around, smiling at the pictures all over the walls. He had a lot of things about Spiderman, of his trips, it was...very him, very much his real self. Not that boy who was kissing one of her best friends downstairs. It was weird, it was him but y/n thought it was another role he played, the playboy life wasn’t truly him . Y/N saw a picture he had with her.

And then she realized it, she was the one who should be there, kissing Tom, not Lizzie. Because Tom meant something to her. But what was she thinking? 

She had hope, that maybe he had thought about it, too. That maybe he had only been sleeping around because he couldn’t have her. And maybe she had only been dying for him to ask her out again, she was dying for a kiss. Just one kiss, and maybe she could get back to her senses. 

She thought about it, maybe she could stop him, just go downstairs and stop him, tell him how she really felt after all those years. She turned around, but before she could even go out and ask Tom to stop what he was doing so he could come down to his senses, she heard them approach.

"Uh, we kinda need this room," Tom said mischievously, while Lizzie laughed shyly.

"Oh, yes, sorry."

And with that, y/n walked out. 

“You’re okay?” Haz had asked her as he bumped into her. 

“Yeah, I just feel a bit sick,” she had told him. 

“Probably the alcohol,” Haz suggested. 

“Probably, yeah,” she smiled. But they both knew it wasn’t the alcohol.  

Haz gave her a small smile as she started to walk away. “You know, he’s too scared of losing you.” 

“Yet he’s doing nothing to keep me,” she sighed. “I’m going to book my flight tomorrow.” 

“Does he know?” Haz pushed.

“No,” she shrugged. “But knowing me, and knowing him, it’s the best I can do.” 

“So you’re escaping?” Haz frowned. 

“I learned from the best,” she shrugged. “I can’t let this grow.”

Haz didn’t push it any further, because he knew that it was hopeless. And she knew it, too. She knew it was either too early or too late to accept it because she was doomed to never have him.

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tag list @laureharrier @paradoxparker @clairesrainbow  @desirableprey @fairydustparker @newlove-neweverything @ymeradonnadx @underoosmarvel @tomhollandlovebot @its-the-unknownspidey @savethebabyseals @hermionedeservesbetterthanron @tomhaz @wronglanemendes  @itsvianny @lovestrucktom  @jake-and-amy-are-married @starlightfound @tiredfeels @thespiderdweeb  @kill-the-stereo @thequeensardine @originalpinkpowerranger @lavenderholland @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @organicpurplepants @happywolves81  @nedthegay @skylar-mendes  @emma-worthington @redwhitenbucky @cartiertom  @elefthavraam   @sentimentalquackson  @savannah0111 @vibhati123 @imagine-that-100 @lunagreenwood @hollandhearts @bluparis @badhollandfluff @myspideysensesrtingling @spidermansmj14 @soccerstud004 @marinaabernardii @applenter @silver-winter-wolf    @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn  @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @harringtonsbaseballbat @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @almostrosadiazz @tonystark-mcu @tomzfrog @tohollandback @morganhoran1671 @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl  @everythingbooknerd  @xapham @parkerswebhead @afilmbypeterparkr @xxtomxo @gioandreolli @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter   @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @fufaation15 @healthyassdonut   @laurfangirl424 @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespidey @nathaliabakes @hollandslut @marvelstuck @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams@sanniegirl1214 @gioandreolli  @peterpandco @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @chubby-cheek-calum @thatweirdomimic

#LOD #limits of desire #fuckboy!tom holland #fuckboy! au #fuckboy!tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #best friend!tom holland #best friend au #best friend #friends to lovers #tom holland fanfic #tom holland ff #tom holland fluff #tom holland series #tom holland imagine #tom holland x best friend!reader

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Protect the Spiderling, Pt 2

I think I’ve uploaded this one before, but I have a part 3 and couldn’t find part 2 to link it, so here it is again. One of my few Marvel fics - please tell me how I did (nicely, guys, I’m delicate) because I would love to try more fics for this fandom! Anyway, here’s the first part. 

My husband legit argued with me when I said we only have 5 weeks left to the semester, y’all XD Like, dude, I’m not just making this crap up to make myself feel better. But turns out we were both right; it’s just that all of his teachers hate him, and only two of mine do, cause most of my classes end in 5 weeks, while all of his and a couple of mine end the week after lol. So, we’re getting close to the end, and that means I’m starting to really crack down on my homework (not that I was slacking before). Anyway, what this means is most of my journaling - which I was previously using to write fanfics and original stuff - is now focused on revising stories to use for my portfolio, and the rest of my free time is going towards those semester projects and term papers :P

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          “Hey, kid, what’s up with you? You know how I feel about moping in the lab. There’s no place for that teenage angst of yours in here.” Tony was worried when instead of laughing it off like he normally would have, Peter instead jumped, the web shooter he’d been working on falling to the floor with a clatter.

              “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Tony stared at him, wide-eyed as his kid kept up a steady stream of apologies and assurances that he’ll “be better”. Finally, the painful words stopped, but was instead replaced with those beautiful bambi eyes of Peter’s welling up with tears as the kid stood there and stared at him with fear. Tony felt his heart stop.

              “Kid—” he started.

              “Hey Tony! You don’t happen to know where the kid went, do you?” Bucky called from just outside the lab. Peter squeaked and bolted for the other side of the lab, away from the two super soldiers who entered only seconds after. Steve’s eyes brightened. “Oh hey, Pete! I thought you said you were going to go to bed?”

              “What?” Tony turned to stare at Peter. “Kid, it’s only 9! Are you feeling okay?” Peter just stared at the three of them, so Tony moved so he could still keep an eye on him, even as he spoke to his boyfriends. “I’ve been busy with meetings all day so I hadn’t had the chance to see him today, and I know he has a big assignment due tomorrow that he was working on, and with his finals coming up, I knew I wouldn’t get to see much of him. Wanted to get some time in with him before he got too busy.”

              Peter let out a sniffle behind them, quiet whimpers leaving as he tried hurriedly to wipe his tears off his face. “Peter, what’s…” Tony let his words drift off, unsure of how to even ask what was happening right there. Bucky stepped in.

              “Peter, was that assignment Tony is talking about one of those that the others ruined?” Tony’s head whipped towards Bucky, a look of confusion and fury in place, but Steve shushed him before he could say anything.

              “It was my fault, though, I swear I didn’t mean to be in everyone’s way! I just, just,” he burst into a fresh wave of tears.

              “Pete, you were on the ceiling. None of us were using the fucking ceiling.”

              “How often do they bully you like that, sweetheart?” Peter sniffed again, refusing to answer Steve’s question.

              The three men looked at each other uncertainly. Tony moved to offer Peter a hug, but he moved away. “They don’t bully me. I was in the way. It’s fine.” Bucky growled, shoving the papers in his hands to Steve before lurching forward and grabbing Peter’s arm so he would stop shifting away from them. Peter yelped but after he was caught, he seemed to give up on getting away from them and was compliant as they moved him over to the couch Tony had in the workshop. There wasn’t much room for the four of them, but Bucky was nothing if not a problem solver, so he mentally shrugged and tugged Peter onto his lap. Peter initially balked but even with his spider strength, he wasn’t much of a match for him. He was too busy crying and feeling guilty, apparently.

              “Listen to me, kid. Even if you had been in the way—”

              “Which you weren’t.” Steve inserted smoothly.

              “There are nicer ways to let you know than to shoot you down.” Tony made an enraged sound in the back of his throat at this, and Steve was smart enough to grab him, forcefully pulling him into his lap, too, super soldiers carefully but firmly holding back their geniuses. “They could’ve said something, they could’ve asked you nicely if you could move, but the fact of the matter is, there’s no reason for you to. They weren’t using the space, you were there before we got there, and you weren’t hurting any of us. You wanted to study at the table, Bruce was there. So you found a solution that wouldn’t affect anyone but still allowed you to be around us like you wanted.” Peter’s tears had somewhat died down now, but Bucky wasn’t finished. “Peter, you. Did. Good.”

              It took a minute, but eventually, Peter offered a shaky smile. It seemed that was all Tony needed before his thoughts returned to his own personal rampage. “Okay what the hell! Which one of those morons tried to shoot down my kid!”

              Peter tried to placate, leaning towards Tony as well as he could when Bucky was still restraining him and refused to let him move far. “It wasn’t that bad, Bucky is exaggerating. Don’t worry about it, Mr. Stark.”

              “Nice try, Pete,” Steve adjusted his hold on his squirming lapful. “Bucky was not exaggerating. Clint literally shot arrows at your stuff to force you down. That’s a thing he actually did, buddy.”

              “Aw come on, you weren’t even there!” Peter whined, squirming in earnest now to escape Bucky’s grasp.

              “Doesn’t matter, Bucky doesn’t exaggerate. Anyway, look what we did for you!” The papers they had were retrieved from the floor next to the couch, and waved in Peter’s face. “That assignment you have due tomorrow was on WWII, right? That happened to be the one that was destroyed the most, so Stevie and I helped put together some stuff for a new one.” Tony froze, staring at Bucky with a blank look on his face, while Peter jolted upright.

              “Are you serious?” he aske, head whipping back and forth between the two of them.

              Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, we’re serious, bud.”

              “We took some of the information from what we could read of your paper. Some of it was stuff Friday helped us scrounge up from the internet.” Steve explained.

              “And then we added some first-hand information!” Bucky finished triumphantly.

              “You can use it if you want, or not, but if you get started now, you should be able to finish looking it over and rewriting it for yourself tonight.” Steve glanced at Tony, concerned that maybe he would be upset about Peter possibly staying up late to work on the assignment, but Peter only looked relieved, nodding as he finally managed to slide off of Bucky’s lap.

              “I can absolutely have this done, thank you so much, guys! You have no idea how much this grade was worth! Thank you, Mr. Rogers! Thank you, Mr. Barnes! Good night, Mr. Stark, can we do some lab time tomorrow maybe?” He barely managed to wait long enough to get a nod out of his adopted father before he took off for his room, anxious to complete the assignment as soon as possible.

              Steve looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, Friday, will you make sure none of the other Avengers run into Peter tonight? He needs to focus on that homework of his, and they need to be dealt with before they even try to talk to him again.”

              Friday answered her affirmative, and Bucky and Steve turned their attention to their boyfriend, who looked dangerously close to tears.

              “What’s the matter, doll?” Bucky slid a little closer so he and Steve could share Tony’s weight (not that he really weighed much more than a wet kitten, something else he and Peter had in common).

              “You guys really re-did one of Peter’s assignments for him?” Unsure of what to say, Bucky just nodded.

              “Of course we did, sweetheart, what happened wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t fair. Why should his grades suffer just cause some of the other Avengers were being jerks?” Steve asked him gently. Tony just sniffled.

              “That was so nice of you. Thank you.” Bucky and Steve wrapped him in a hug when his tremulous smile fell and was replaced with a frown. “But why were the others messing with him like that?” Immediately, Steve’s and Bucky’s expressions darkened. It was Steve who responded again. “Dunno. But we’re gonna find out.”

#mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #peter parker #i don't know where it falls in canon universe sorry #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stuckony #stuckony but that's not the point #not clint friendly #not sam friendly #not really natasha friendly tbh #mywriting #my writing #jessi rambles #since no one reads tags this far #i hate myself today #and that's the tea #ugh #mental health sucks

[thelastspeecher]

Recoil - Chapter 1: Stopping Power

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   AO3

A little while ago, I reread the AMAZING fic “1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back” by @infriga and remembered that about a year ago I got a prompt from an Anon to write basically that same situation, wherein de-aging happens during the big portal fight, but flip the script and have Ford be the one that is de-aged.  And I got inspired by infriga’s awesome fic and decided to revisit and revamp that concept.  So here is the project I’ve been working on and cryptically referencing lately.  A multichap following that concept that is FiddStan endgame.  A first for me.  Expect a regular upload schedule, because this puppy is basically all done.

Summary: The fight was going as it always did for Stan and Ford. Hurtful words followed by clenched fists, no resolution, no quarter given. That is, until Ford turned eight.

Stopping power (noun): the ability of a weapon to incapacitate a target

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              Stan sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on the back of the small child sleeping next to him.  In the dark, he could only see dark curls standing out against the light pillowcase. Soft snoring filled the room. Satisfied, Stan began to stand up. He paused for a moment, then sat back down, watching the sleeping boy, thinking about the events that had led to this moment.

----- 

              “You ruined my life!” Stan snarled, trying to pull Ford’s damn book from him.  Ford’s attempt to hold onto the book failed.  Stan stumbled backwards, the book clutched to his chest.

              “I ruined nothing!” Ford shouted, shoving Stan.  “You ruined your own life!”  The small of Stan’s back hit something hard and metal, and Stan collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain and a wince.  He looked up at Ford, a few feet away, bathed in the light of the machine Stan couldn’t remember the name of.  Ford opened his mouth, probably to shout some more.

              The glow emitted by the machine grew brighter and brighter, filling the basement room corner to corner.  Ford looked at the machine, apparently shocked out of fighting mode by the change. Stan couldn’t interpret the expression with which Ford stared at the machine.  Fear?  Anticipation? Confusion?  Before he could narrow down the emotion, a sudden bolt of electricity shot out from the center of the light, striking Ford square in the chest. Ford fell to his knees with a cry.

              “Ford!”  Stan threw aside the book and rushed over to his brother, crouching next to him. Ford’s body crackled with electricity, miniature bolts of lightning running up and down his skin.  “Stanford, what’s-”  Before Stan could get out the rest of his question, a high-pitched ring sounded from the machine.  It rose in volume threateningly, making Stan watch the machine, bracing himself for some new horror.  As abruptly as it started, the sound cut out.  The light vanished.

              Stan blinked away the spots dancing before his eyes.  Once his vision cleared, his jaw dropped at the sight in front of him.  Where moments ago, a man in his late twenties had knelt, now a young child crouched, shivering.  Stan recognized the boy immediately.

              “Stanford?” Stan said cautiously, reaching out a hand.  Ford’s twelve fingers clenched, scraping against the dirt floor.

              “Leave,” Ford said in a quaking voice, his eyes screwed shut.  Stan swallowed.

              “I- I don’t think I should.”

              “Just-”

              “Look at yourself,” Stan interrupted.  Ford reluctantly opened his eyes.  His gaze fell upon his now small hands.  His breath hitched in his throat.

              “What- what- how?” Ford whispered.  The shivers from before intensified.  With a fevered energy, Ford inspected rest of his body, rubbing his hands over his face and scrawny limbs.  “No.  No. This is- this can’t- what’s-” Ford looked up at Stan.  His cherubic face was framed with thick brown curls that their mom would spend ages trying to tame before temple.  Tears spilled from his wide, brown eyes onto his ruddy cheeks.  Any doubt Stan had as to what had happened was instantly dashed.

              Ford couldn’t be any older than ten, but Stan couldn’t quite tell his exact age in the dimly lit basement.  A soft keening filled the air.  Stan looked at the machine, worried it had turned on again, only to realize that the sound was coming from Ford.  He looked back at his brother.

              He’s in full breakdown mode.  Every inch of Ford’s small body was wracked with sobs.  Stan’s mind kicked into overdrive, remembering lessons from the few Boy Scout meetings he’d been to before Filbrick deemed it a waste of money. Crisis situation.  Whattaya do first?  Make sure that anyone who’s panicking stops.  Then fix the problem.

              “Ford, I’m gonna need you to take a deep breath for me, okay?” Stan said, forcing himself to remain calm.  Ford shook his head.  “C’mon. We’ll do it together.”  Stan placed his hands on Ford’s shoulders. “One big breath in.”  He took a deep breath.  “One out.”  He breathed out.  It took a few cycles of this before Ford was actually doing it.

              Not sure whether it’s because he’s actually listening or because he’s getting annoyed by me.  But it doesn’t matter.  Stan and Ford breathed out together.

              “Good.  Now, this part is gonna be tough, but don’t think about anything.  Turn that big brain of yours off for a little bit. Just think about the breathing,” Stan said.  Ford frowned at him.  “Just trust me.  Breathe in. Breathe out.”

              After about five minutes, Ford had stopped shaking.  Dried tear tracks shone on his chubby cheeks.  He hurriedly attempted to scrub them away with his sleeve.

              “Stanley,” Ford croaked.

              “Yeah?”

              “What- what happened?”

              “Your guess is as good as mine, Sixer,” Stan said softly.  “All I know is that you’re a kid again.  Which shouldn’t be possible.”

              “Yes, well, a fair number of things happen in Gravity Falls that shouldn’t be possible,” Ford said.  He took off his glasses to better rub away the tear stains on his face.  Stan’s heart sank.  They had been mostly covered by his glasses, but Stan could now see dark circles under Ford’s eyes.

              Ford would skip sleep a lot in high school, but it was never this bad. What the hell happened? Ford got to his feet shakily.  He abruptly began to lean to the side.

              “Whoa!”  Stan grabbed Ford before he could completely collapse.  “Okay, you need to sleep.”

              “No, Stanley, Bill will-”

              “I don’t care who the fuck Bill is.  A slight breeze could knock you over.  You’re gonna take a nap.”

              “But-”

              “No buts,” Stan said briskly.  He scooped Ford into his arms.

              “Stanley!”  Ford fought back but was too weak to do much of anything.  “This is demeaning!”

              “Yup.”  Stan headed for the door to the basement.  “I don’t care.”

              “But Bill-” Ford started.  Stan began to walk upstairs.

              “I’m gonna find your bedroom, put your butt in bed, and then you’re gonna take a nap.  We can talk after that.”

              “If I get coffee-”

              “Hell no.”

              “Bill-!”

              “I’ll keep watch,” Stan said.  “I won’t leave your side.  Just- you need to sleep.”  Ford continued to protest as Stan wandered around the house, trying to find Ford’s bedroom.  His protests grew fainter and attempts to wriggle free weaker as he became more tired. By the time Stan had located Ford’s bed, he was already fast asleep.  Stan carefully tucked Ford into the bed and removed his glasses, setting them on the bedside table.  Ford rolled over in his sleep and mumbled something blearily.  Stan took a seat on the floor next to Ford’s bed, determined to keep his word.  He watched Ford sleep, his mind going a mile a minute now that the immediate problem had been taken care of.

              What the actual fuck just happened?

----- 

              Ford woke slowly, gradually surfacing from deep sleep.

              Sleep?  Oh, no! Ford’s eyes shot open.  He sat bolt upright in bed.  Bill!  There’s no telling what he did while I was sleeping.  Why the hell did I fall asleep?

              “You’re up,” a voice said.  Ford looked over.  Stan sat next to his bed, watching him with a carefully guarded expression. “Good.  I really need to pee.”

              “I- you-” Ford started.  He shook his head.  “What?”

              “Well, I said I’d keep watch while you slept.  But you slept a lot longer than I thought you were gonna.  If I don’t find a toilet soon, I’ll probably piss myself.”  Stan’s tone was light and airy.  Like his neutral expression, false.  “Where’s the john?”

              “Um…down the hall to the right,” Ford mumbled.

              “Great.  Be back in a second.”  Stan got to his feet, ruffled Ford’s hair, and then rushed out of the bedroom.  Ford watched him leave, bewildered.

              Why did he muss my hair like that?  And what is he still doing here?  Ford swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stopped.  Ice filled his veins.  Gone were the muscled legs from field research, replaced by the knobby knees and skinny feet of his childhood.  The events that had transpired last night came crashing down over him.  Ford put his head in his hands, unable to form any coherent thoughts.  His brain was filled with static.

              When Stan finally came back, Ford was still sitting mutely on the bed.

              “All right, now that’s taken care of…”  Stan sat next to Ford.  “What the fuck?”  Ford managed a weak laugh.  To his consternation, it came out as a giggle.

              “I don’t know, Stanley.  I’ve theorized that age regression is possible under specific circumstances, but I have no idea of how those circumstances were met downstairs.”

              “You really get up to some weird shit, don’t you?”

              “This isn’t even the worse thing that’s happened to me,” Ford said dryly.

              “Heh.”  Ford kept his head in his hands, avoiding eye contact with Stan.  He didn’t want Stan to look at him with sympathy, or worse, like a child.  “So, uh…” Stan cleared his throat.  “I’m gonna call a timeout on our fight.  I’m not really in the mood for punching an eight-year-old.”  That got Ford’s attention.  He looked up at Stan.

              “I’m eight?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “I, uh, I figured it out while you were sleeping.”

              “How?”

              “You got those frames when we were eight, but they got broken and had to be replaced by the time we were nine,” Stan answered, handing Ford a pair of glasses.  Ford looked down at them in surprise.

              My eyesight is normally so horrific that when I returned to this age, it was like I didn’t need corrective lenses.  I do, of course.  But my prescription wasn’t as strong when I was eight.  And Ford recognized the frames.  Stan was right about his current biological age.  Ford put the glasses on.  The world became clearer.

              “It appears my glasses were somehow affected by the…incident,” Ford said. Stan nodded.

              “Your clothes, too.”

              “My-”  Ford looked down at himself.  His slacks, button-up, tie, and trench coat were gone, replaced by brown shorts and a T-shirt with a picture of an atom on it.

              How did I not realize my clothing had changed?  This is getting stranger by the second.

              “You kicked off your shoes while you were sleeping,” Stan continued.  “One hit me in the head.”  Some part of Ford was pleased to hear that.  “Looks like you lost your socks, too.”  Ford continued to stare at himself.  “What’s up?”

              “Just attempting to use this new information to narrow down the cause of my regression.”

              “You don’t remember?” Stan asked.  Ford looked at him.  “Lightning came outta that thing in your basement and hit you.  Dunno why it did that or why it turned you into a kid. But that’s what I saw.”

              “That complicates matters,” Ford mumbled.  He rubbed his eyes wearily.  Despite his nap, exhaustion still weighed on him.  “I’m unsure of how that would result in this particular effect.” Ford sighed.  “Well, you can leave, Stanley.  I’ll handle things here on my own.”

              “No,” Stan said shortly.  Ford rolled his eyes.

              “I’m an adult, I can take care of my-”

              “You’re not an adult, Sixer,” Stan snapped.  Ford recoiled from him, surprised by the sudden venom.  Tense energy rolled off Stan in waves.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You- Do you even realize what all this means? Until whatever happened to you gets fixed or wears off, you’re eight fucking years old.  You can’t drive.  You can’t reach things that are five feet high.  You can’t-”  Stan set his jaw grimly.  “I’ll leave the second you’re back to normal.  In the meantime, though, I’m gonna stay here, whether you want me to or not. We mighta been on the rocks lately, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let my brother get picked up by Child Services or accidentally kill himself by falling when he tried to grab something out of reach.”

              “I…”  Ford wasn’t sure whether it was the exhaustion or the abrupt reveal of how vulnerable he now was, but he found himself cowed by Stan’s words.  He ducked his head.  “…I suppose that’s…reasonable.”

              “Damn straight it’s reasonable,” Stan muttered under his breath.  Ford’s stomach rumbled.  “You hungry?”

              “I’ll be fine.”

              “You’ll be- the hell kinda answer is that?  You’re a kid now.  Kids have to eat.”  Ford was silent.  “C’mon, I’ll make you somethin’.”  Stan squinted at the clock on the wall.  “It’s ten, looks like.  I’ll make you brunch.”

              “That would be quite the feat, given that there isn’t any food in the house,” Ford mumbled.  Stan let out a long sigh.  Ford glanced at him.  Stan’s shoulders were slumped as though he carried a weight on them.  “…What?”

              “Ford, you’re...”  Stan chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  “Okay.  You were barely functioning as an adult.  As a kid, you look like you might keel over any second.”

              “And?”

              “And that’s bad, Poindexter!  I’ll-” Stan shook his head.  “We obviously have a lot left to talk about, like who the fuck Bill is, but before we do, we’re going to the store.”  Ford’s blood ran cold.

              “You know about Bill?”

              “You only mentioned him a million times right after you got turned into a kid,” Stan said.  “But you didn’t explain who he was or why you were so scared of him.”  A note of concern entered Stan’s voice.  “You passed out pretty fast.”  Ford looked away.

              “It’s a long story,” he said faintly.

              “Then it can definitely wait,” Stan said.  Ford’s stomach rumbled again.  “Put your shoes on.  We’ll take my car.”

----- 

              Stan wasn’t sure how old you had to be in order to ride in the passenger seat, but he decided to let Ford sit where he wanted.  He’d never really cared about the rules of the road anyways.

              But whenever I was being chased by cops before, the only person that’d deal with it would be me.  Stan glanced at Ford, who was staring out the window, mumbling to himself.  If I got pulled over now, who knows what they’d do with Ford.  A tight sensation bloomed in his chest as he pictured Ford getting led away by Child Services, handed off to a foster family that would never believe this boy with a million freckles and big eyes was actually an adult.

              “Turn here,” Ford said abruptly.  He was acting as Stan’s map, since Stan didn’t know where anything was in Gravity Falls.  Stan did as he was told.  “It should be on the-”

              “I see it,” Stan said.  It was difficult not to notice the strip mall with its vast parking lot.  Stan pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. Ford reached for the door handle. “Ford.”  Ford paused.  “Just so you know, we’re gonna steal most of the stuff we get today.”  Ford whipped his head around to stare at Stan.  “I don’t have any money.”

              “Why didn’t you tell me before we left?” Ford demanded.  “I could have-”

              “Do you have any money?” Stan asked.  Ford fell silent.  “Look, you don’t have to worry about it too much.  I’ll handle it.  I’ve got a lot of practice.”  Ford’s eyes widened in surprise.  Stan resisted the urge to look away.  “Just thought I’d let you know in advance,” he mumbled.  After a moment, Ford nodded.

              “I appreciate that.”

              “No problem.”  Stan took a breath.  “Let’s head inside.”  He got out of the car, then waited for Ford to follow suit.  At some point during the drive, it had started snowing.  Ford walked over to him, hugging his arms to his chest in an attempt to stay warm.  Without a word, Stan shrugged off his dingy, dirty jacket and draped it over Ford’s shoulders.  The jacket came down nearly to Ford’s knees, but at least he stopped shivering.

              As they trudged through the slushy parking lot, Stan couldn’t help but think back to the initial moment Ford had been turned into a kid.  He’d expected that overwhelmed, childish reaction to be the case again once Ford awoke, but Ford seemed like himself. Stan glanced at Ford out of the corner of his eye.  His round, youthful face was beginning to turn pink from the cold.

              Well, mostly like himself.  Stan looked ahead again.  Why doesn’t he remember getting turned into a kid?  He didn’t remember the lightning and he sure as hell doesn’t remember having a breakdown in front of me last night.  If he did, he’d be acting a lot more awkward.  Ford let out a small squeak as he caught his shoe on something and fell forward.  Stan’s arms shot out instinctively to catch him before he hit the ground.  Ford promptly shook him off.

              “I’m fine, Stanley.”  Ford pulled Stan’s jacket closer to his body.  “As fine as I can be, given the circumstances.”  Stan just nodded silently.  The rest of the walk to the mall was uneventful.  Once they walked inside, Ford promptly took off Stan’s jacket and handed it to him.  Ford then set off with purpose.

              “Whoa, hey!”  Stan caught up with Ford, which only took a few strides, and put a hand on his shoulder. Ford froze.  “You can’t just run off like that.”

              “I was going to the food court.  I thought the plan was to get food.”

              “It was.  It is. I just…”  Stan ran a hand through his hair.  “Let me know where you’re going if you’re gonna wander off somewhere, okay?”  Ford looked down at his feet, abashed.

              “Okay.”

              “Okay,” Stan parroted.  He donned his jacket.  “You know where the food court is?”  Ford nodded. “Lead the way.”

              Going through the lines at the food court was easy enough.  Ford had immediately gravitated towards the kiosk that sold specialty ice cream.  Looking at the flavors, Stan found himself wanting some as well, but he only had enough money for something cheap, so he reluctantly dragged Ford over to the sandwich place.  The whining coming from Ford as a result turned a few heads and elicited a few chuckles from people who likely had experience telling children no to sweets. The two of them finally sat down at a table to eat their sandwiches.

              There weren’t any children Ford’s current age in the mall, something that Stan didn’t realize until he was approached by a woman with a sleeping baby in a stroller.

              “Excuse me, sir?” the woman said.  Stan looked up from his sandwich.  Ford ignored the stranger and continued to pick at his own meal.

              “Uh, yeah?” Stan asked.

              “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I think it’s rather odd that your son isn’t in school.”  Ford froze. “It is Tuesday, after all.  And my own son, Charlie, his winter break ended last week.”  The woman’s eyes bore into Stan.  Stan’s habitual lying kicked in.  He raised an eyebrow at the woman.

              “You’re right,” he said coolly.  “It is none of your business.”  The woman’s mouth dropped open.  Before she could gather herself enough to continue prying, Stan spoke again. “But if you must know, my son and I are visiting relatives.  His winter break is still going on.”  The woman took a step back.

              “…Oh.  I didn’t realize-”

              “Yeah.”  Stan glanced at his watch, pretending to check the time.  “Ford, we have to go.  You can eat your food as we walk.”  He got up and held out his hand.  Ford stared at it for a second like he wasn’t sure what to do.  Stan shook his hand.  Ford glowered but grabbed the outstretched hand obediently.  He and Stan walked away, avoiding eye contact with the strange woman.  Once officially out of the food court, Ford let go of Stan’s hand like it was red hot. He turned on Stan.

              “What the hell was that, Stanley?” Ford snarled.  Stan looked around.  They were alone.

              “I had to tell her something,” Stan hissed.

              “What about when I’m back to normal?  People will ask you about your son.”

              “I won’t be in town anymore,” Stan pointed out.  Ford blinked, like he’d forgotten Stan intended on leaving once this problem had been resolved.  The moment of shock passed.  Ford shook his head.

              “The fact remains, you didn’t need to claim I was your son.  You couldn’t have said I was your nephew? Maybe your cousin?  Or tell the truth, that I’m your brother?”

              “There’s about twenty years difference between us right now.  No one would believe we’re brothers.”

              “Still!”

              “The best way to lie is to go along with people’s assumptions,” Stan said. “Let them think they’re right.” Ford crossed his arms, visibly furious. “If you’re that peeved about it, we can always tell other people that you’re my nephew.”

              “Wouldn’t contradicting your first lie with a second one make that second lie weaker?”

              “Yes.”

              “Then…”  Ford’s mouth puckered like he had just sucked on a particularly sour lemon.  “I suppose I’m your son for now.”  He pointed at Stan angrily.  “But I want it on the record that I’m pissed about this.”

              “Yeah, I figured that much out,” Stan said.  “By the way, you’re damn lucky no one else is around to hear you swearing up a storm.”

              “Why?”

              “Kids aren’t supposed to cuss, Poindexter.  If I’m gonna pretend to be a regular dad to a regular kid, I’ll have to tell you off for swearing in public.”  Ford’s expression somehow grew even more sour.  “Y’know, if you make that face for too long, it’ll get stuck like that.”  Bemusement splashed onto Ford’s face.

              “What?”

              “You don’t remember Mom telling us that?  Well, I guess she mostly said it to me,” Stan said absently.  Ford huffed impatiently.

              “We don’t have time for this, Stanley.  We have to return home so that I can tell you about Bill.”  A shadow crossed Ford’s face.  The bright lights of the mall somehow seemed a bit darker.

              “…Right.  The good news though, is that we’re gonna be stealing everything else.  And if you wanna pull off a heist properly, you can’t dawdle.  So it won’t take too long.”  Stan began to head toward the children’s clothes store they’d passed on the way to the food court.

              “Stealing,” Ford muttered under his breath, following.  “If I was actually your child, you’d be encouraging me to be a thief.”

              “It’s an art form that’s dying out,” Stan said firmly.  “Nothin’ wrong with teaching it to the next generation.”

              Ford rolled his eyes.

----- 

              Ford bounded out of the car and made a beeline for the front door, planning on making his way inside before he would be roped into helping to carry things.

              “Ford.”

              Dammit.  Ford turned around.

              “Yes?”

              “All this shit is yours,” Stan said gesturing to the clothes in the back seat. “You need to help bring it in.” Ford scowled.  “C’mon.”  Ford reluctantly went back to the car.  He held out his arms and allowed Stan to fill them with items.  “You know, glaring at me all the time isn’t how you’re gonna get your way.  You’ve got those big brown eyes.  Use ‘em.”

              “What?” Ford asked, blindsided.  Stan snorted.  He put another shirt on the pile of clothes Ford was carrying.

              “You haven’t looked at your reflection yet, have you?”

              “…No.”

              “Hang on.”  Stan got into the back seat and began to dig around the cushions.  Ford sighed impatiently.

              “Is this really-” he started.  Stan emerged, holding something shiny.

              “Here,” Stan said, holding the object up.  It was a metal flask.  “Take a look at yourself.”  Ford rolled his eyes but decided to have a cursory glance.  He intended on looking briefly.  At the sight of his reflection, though, he paused.  Wild curls surrounded his objectively cute face, chubby with baby fat.  Freckles were splashed across his cheeks, but Stan was right that his eyes were the standout feature.  Even hidden behind glasses, his eyes were wide and innocent-looking, framed by thick eyelashes.  Ford’s mouth dropped open.  The boy in the reflection did the same.

              I’m…adorable.  I’m adorable? I’m adorable.

              “I’m…”

              “Cute as a button,” Stan said with a soft chuckle.  Ford was too shocked by his youthful appearance to scowl at his brother.  “See what I mean?  If you make puppy dog eyes, no one could say no to you.”

              “What about you?”

              “What about me?” Stan asked, tossing the flask back in the car.

              “Would you be able to say no to this face?”  Ford widened his eyes plaintively.  Stan frowned thoughtfully.

              “Yes,” he said after a moment.  Ford pouted.  “But if you practice, someday I might not be able to.”  Stan closed the car door.  “Let’s go inside and put all this crap away.  Then we can talk about that thing in the basement and Bill.”  A chill ran down Ford’s spine at the sound of Bill’s name.

              “Actually, maybe we should talk first,” Ford said softly.  Stan looked at him, visibly concerned by Ford’s tone.

              “Yeah?”

              “Yes.”  A cloud passed overhead, blocking the sun.  Panic swelled in Ford’s chest.  A hand rested on his shoulder, making him jump.

              “Ford?” Stan asked gently.  Ford could feel himself shaking.  The lighthearted mood of only a moment ago had been banished by the specter of Bill hanging over him.

              Why do I keep forgetting about Bill?  For that matter, why didn’t Bill possess me when I fell asleep?  Unless he has some sort of long con planned. Ford’s knees knocked together.

              “Ford?”

              What is he planning?  Hasn’t he tortured me enough?  No, of course he hasn’t.  He’ll never be satisfied.

              “Ford!”

              And now that I’m a child, I’ll be a much easier target.  I can’t protect myself at all.  What if he goes after Stanley?  Or uses me to go after Stanley?  We aren’t exactly best of friends anymore, but I don’t want him to be in Bill’s crosshairs.

              “Stanford!”  Someone was shaking him.  Ford broke free of his panicked thoughts.  Stan crouched in front of him, fear and worry warring on his face.  Ford stared at him.  “Talk to me, buddy.”

              “Don’t call me buddy,” Ford mumbled weakly.

              “What the hell just happened?” Stan asked.  Ford looked down at the clothes in his arms.  “Did it have something to do with Bill?”  After a moment, Ford nodded.  “We’ll talk now, then.”  Stan scooped the clothes from Ford’s arms.  “I’ll carry these, you just head inside.”

              “Okay,” Ford said softly.  With Stan close behind him, Ford made his way to the front door.  Just before stepping inside, he glanced back at the forest.  Branches undulated in the wind.  Even now, in the middle of the day, there was a darkness in the trees.  One that could host any sort of terror within.  Another chill ran down Ford’s spine.

              What did Mom call that feeling?  Oh, right.  Ford swallowed.  Someone walking over your grave.

#Gravity Falls #fanfiction #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #deaging #Recoil AU #my writing #my stuff #no other multichaps will be updated bc thesis is currently happening #but this one is done so it will be regularly updated fuck yeah #(just gotta decide what the upload schedule will be lmao) #speecher speaks

[junquisite]

Who’ll give in first? - Pt 6

PARTS :   1  2  3  4  5  6  7  Final

A/N : Almost 2.2K and took me a while to write. I guess only 2 more chapter are left, 3 at max. This would have been uploaded earlier had a friend of mine not given me this idea of another fic and i invested quite a time on that. So basically i have another fic coming up, Yayy me!

‘Will be home later’ turned out to be quite late, Hongseok thought. They were supposed to go shopping, how much more time did they needed? It was past dinner time now and more then concerned, Hongseok was on the verge of murderous rage. Maybe it was because he was planning to bare his heart to her tonight or maybe it was just plain jealousy of her spending more time with Kino, but he wanted her home NOW. Sadly all his calls were going unanswered and the only response he got was a text from her saying “will be late, sorry!” and then no reply to the texts he sent after. So he was beyond pisssed.

Around 11:30-ish, he got a call from her and before he could say anything, he heard her sing-song voice saying,”Hongseok-aaah!” and then she giggled and Hongseok sighed, “Great. When I actually get her, she’s fucking drunk.” He mumbled and got up from the couch. If she was calling him, there was a 99.99% chance that she needs him to pick her up.

“Where are you?” he asked, grabbing his car keys and jacket and putting his shoes on while trying to get her to tell him where she was.

“Umm a club? A party? I don’t know. Kino took me. Do you wanna talk to him? Let me give him the phone!” she said as Hongseok wanted to slap himself or her for that matter. Why couldn’t she have just told him?

An equally drunk Kino came on the phone after her and somehow managed to tell him the club they were in. On his way, he called Changgu there too, to pick Kino up because he didn’t wanted to handle two drunks, especially those two. He was already dreading meeting them because when sober they can be all cutesy together, drunk them will be even more and that was the last thing he needed that day.

He arrived there, about 25 minutes later and as soon as he got out of his car, he found them. Or o be precise, they found him because he heard her yelling “seok-ah!” at the top of her voice and when he turned around, he saw her waving her hand at him while the other hand was wrapped around Kino’s and were sitting on the sidewalk adjacent to the club.

He went to them and then only Changgu pulled up as well so he sighed in relief. When Changgu came too, they both stood in front of the two drunks happily giggling among themselves. Changgu first tried to pull Kino up who refused to let go of her and Hongseok just stared around.

“Can’t we just leave him here?” he said to Changgu who glared at him from near Kino.

“Come pick her up. Then they both will get up hopefully.”

The two sober ones were pointedly ignoring the drunken whispers of them who, according to Hongseok, were too close for his peace of mind so he just went close to her. He tried to hold her arm which she let her, a good sign he thought, but she won’t get up until Kino would too, so Changgu and him pulled them both up together and finally, the drunk duo were standing on their feet, even though a bit wobbly.

The next problem was, SHE! JUST! WON’T! LET! GO! OF! HIS! ARM! Hongseok had had enough after the first few tries that he just grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, upside down on his shoulder and she just had to leave Kino’s hand.

“Hyunggguuuuuu!!” she yelled while hitting Hongseok on his back which wasn’t really much to him but it was annoying. The said man in question was also trying to escape Changgu’s grip and crying “Jiwon-ieee!” and Hongseok just stared at him in irritation.

“Just take him, I’m gonna take her too.” He said and started to turn around when Changgu called him.

“Did you finally tell her?” he asked and Hongseok looked at the thrashing girl on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t really. She was out the whole day with him,” he said, pointing at Kino with his chin. Changgu laughed and Hongseok rolled his eyes.

“Don’t hold her upside down too long. She might throw up!” Changgu yelled at him while taking Kino away and Hongseok swiftly manhandled her into the bridal position.

“Let’s go!” she chimed in and he rolled his eyes. So much for calling Kino before.

He eventually managed to have her sit in the car and jogged over to the driver’s seat and they started their way home. Until 5 minutes later when Jiwon decided she has had enough of sitting still and moved around in her seat to stare at Hongseok driving. That was fine too but then she decided she wanted to feel his muscles up and Hongseok looked at her sideways, wide eyed, “what are you doing?” he asked and she looked at him with a dopey smile, “I like your muscles seok-ah!”

He sighed and continued driving. But again, a few minutes later she was bored from his biceps and her hands wandered to his chest and the car slightly swerved because he was so shocked!

“What the hell Jiwon?” he asked and she just smiled at him. He stopped the car on the side road and turned towards her.

“Can you stop that so that we can actually reach home in single piece?”

“But I like your bodyyy!” she whined and Hongseok blushed slightly. Even though he knew that it was a fact, explicitly her being vocal about it made him flush slightly.

“Okay, stay in your seat and do all this after we reach home okay?” he said turning around to drive.

“Kiss.”

“Huh?” he turned around so quickly that he made himself slightly dizzy.

“Gimme a kiss then I won’t disturb you.” She said, puckering her lips towards him. He stared at her for a few seconds until she started grabbing his jacket but leaned over then to give her a peck.

“Happy now?” he asked, staring at her.

“Very.” She said and leaned back in her seat, still facing him.

He smiled softly at her and started driving again. He noticed though, that she kept on staring at him. When they reached a red light, he turned towards her and asked, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Without skipping a beat, she answered, “because you’re good looking and I like looking at you.”

He was taken aback, even though slightly. It wasn’t that it was the first time he had heard someone say that to him, but it was the first time SHE had said it to him and that was something special. So overcome by emotions, he unbuckled his seat and leaned towards her, kissing her passionately. Her drunken mind took a few seconds too long to kiss him back but then she was kissing him with equal vigour with her hands tangling in his hair and grabbing at his jacket.

They pulled back only when they hear the car honking behind them and he looked around to see the light had turned green. The car behind them changed lanes and left while they just breathed heavily in the car. Pecking her lips once more, he started driving again and somehow, taking almost 40 minutes for a 20 somewhat minutes ride, they finally reached their apartment complex.

He got out and waited for her to get out too, but when she didn’t, he walked to her side and opened the door. She was idly sitting in and when he leaned on the open door, gave him a pout.

“Why aren’t you coming out?”

“I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to? You wanna stay in the car for the whole night?” he asked and she nodded saying no. “Then?”

“I don’t want to walk till there. Cary me?” she asked, opening her arms towards him and he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Pleaaseee?” she pleased with her puppy eyes. Normally it won’t work on him but he was so in love with her and had waited for her the whole day, so he sighed and leaned down, sliding one hand below her knees and the other below her shoulders and picked her up bridal style again. She made a happy noise and he smiled and thought, her smile was the prettiest when for him.

The struggle of going to your apartment carrying a drunk girl was not the carrying part, but her squirming. Eventually when he reprimanded her to stay still, she listened but somehow it made things even harder for him because she decided to hide her face from him, in his neck only.

So with every step, he was very aware of her every breath near his neck and whenever she would mumble something, he would feel her lips moving on his neck and he had to kept reminding himself to control because she was drunk and he was not going to take advantage of that.

When they finally reached their apartment, he was trying to enter the pin with her in arms so he made her stand up and tried entering it. It might have gone well and they would have gone inside on the first try had she not said what she did.

“Hongseok, why won’t you sleep with me?”

His hand slipped on the wrong number when she asked this and he turned to stare at her instead. After finally entering the correct pin, they entered their apartment and he started walking towards his own room when she grabbed his jacket.

“Do you not like me seok-ah?” she asked and he turned around. He was weak for her anyway and seeing her looking at him all sad tugged at his heartstrings and he pulled her close in a hug.

“Of course I like you sweetie” he said, even though he wanted to tell her he loved her, this wasn’t the time.

“Then why wont you sleep with me?” she mumbled in his neck and he stifled a laugh. She really had a one track mind.

“You’re drunk baby. Let’s get you to bed and talk in the morning.” He said and tried to push her away and towards the room but she had other plans in mind because the next thing he knew, her lips were on his and her hands were unbuttoning her own shirt. He tried to pull back but when she bit his lips to get entrance, he gave up and pulled her close and kissed her back, hands trying to stop her from taking her top off.

When he pulled back to get some air, her shirt was off and on the floor and her hands were pushing his jacket off him while she was busy kissing his neck, biting here and there until his neck was full of small and bright red marks. He tried to hold her by the shoulder and push away but the sight that greeted him – blown out pupils and swollen lips, bare neck and only a red lacy bra with her hands tugging at his belt, he groaned and went back to kissing her. Her hands got rid of his belt and his hands were touching her bare skin for the first time. He pulled back only to grab her hands and pin them above her head and started kissing down her neck. He bit down every now and then but not hard enough to leave any marks until her reached her collar ones where all his resolves crumbled and he bit hard enough and sucked to leave his mark. The moans that escaped her lips after the bite prompted him enough to go down further and kiss and bite which was exactly what he did. His hand slightly hesitated before it wandered upwards to grope her breasts and he groaned, pulling his face away from her chest. He bit at the part visible above the bra she was somehow still wearing and she cried his name, pulling him close that made him place his thigh between her legs. It took her not even a second to start grinding on his thigh and he mouthed at her nipples through the bra.

When she pulled at his t-shirt and asked him to take her to his room, did he came to his senses that as much as he was liking where this was going, the fact still remained that she was drunk and he didn’t knew if she wanted it for real or not. So with immense regret and longing for her, with a tent in his jeans, he pulled away from her and took a few steps away.

“H- Hongseok?” she asked and he looked up at her. Her eyes wide and hurt visible. He could see she felt rejected and cursed at himself. Taking the few steps towards her that were necessary, he pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“Morning baby. Let’s talk in the morning. Let’s get you into bed for now.” He said, dragging an unwilling and clearly horny Jiwon to bed. He helped her into changing into pyjamas and tucked her in bed, over all of her protests about how she would rather suck his dick then sleep but he resisted and he was proud of it.

If just after getting out of her room he had to take a shower and get himself off with the images of her mouth wrapped around his length, she doesn’t need to know that.

#pentagon #pentagon scenario #pentagon smut #hongseok #hongseok scenaro #hongseok smut #yang hongseok #yang hongseok scenario #yang hongseok smut #kino #kang hyunggu #changgu #yeoone