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dud5tiny · 4 months

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Intertwined Fates | K. Akabane

✶Pairing: Karma Akabane X reader

✶Summary: Where you find yourself in a complicated situation, and the redhead comes to your aid, or where Karma cares more about you than he lets on.

✶Contains: Physical violence and bullying, Emotionally intense content, Scenes of confrontation and aggression, Karma being Karma.

A/n: English isn't my first language, so forgive any mistakes. My account is new, so I'm still tweaking it to my liking, but I'm accepting requests！

You and Karma always got along well, which is peculiar given his arrogant and proud personality.

You met before he joined class 3-E. Your personalities were distinct, with you being reserved and having few friends, while Karma was, well, Karma, with his teasing and sometimes tasteless jokes. To be honest, he didn't even notice you at first, as your reserved nature didn't make you stand out among the students.

Until one day, Karma overheard you arguing with a student from your class. From the context, this student was humiliating a 3-E student, and without hesitation, you defended them. Since that day, Karma started paying more attention to you.

He was somewhat pleased that you seemed to disdain the educational system as much as he did. He kept an eye on you during class, discreetly. You never exchanged words until the teacher assigned pair work.

Actually, the teacher allowed students to choose their partners. As you didn't talk to anyone and Karma had a reputation for violence (and honestly, students were afraid to team up with him), you didn't have much choice but to work together.

Initially, you felt uncomfortable, maybe unsure how to start a conversation or simply because his presence seemed intimidating. Karma understood he had to take the first step, initiating a discussion about the assignment and how you'd tackle the problem given by the teacher.

The project went well, with Karma doing most of the work, and you providing comments and help whenever you could. You didn't want to be dead weight and let Karma take all the credit. By the end of the class, the work was finished, and you felt more at ease around Karma, engaging in conversation about books and shared interests.

You genuinely thought you'd never interact with the redhead again. Before, you hadn't spoken, so why would it be different now? It was a surprise when, the next day, he sat near your place, which was previously unoccupied.

After that, you became friends, of sorts. No one in the class seemed interested enough to pursue friendship with you, and Karma scared off other students, preventing them from getting close due to his mischievous temperament. The outcast students got along.

Karma noticed that, behind your reserved nature, you talked quite a bit, especially when discussing things you enjoyed, like books or movies. You had to admit (to yourself, because honestly, this guy's ego is already too big), your mornings became more enjoyable because of the interaction with him.

So, it was a huge surprise when you received the terrible news that Karma Akabane would finally be transferred to 3-E for beating up a high-ranking student. You were aware of his violent reputation, and you had seen him in fights before, but the principal had never made a big deal about it until now.

You hadn't had any contact with him since then, and your days returned to being as monotonous as before, which didn't go unnoticed by a group of students who, for fun, decided to pick on you.

You had never been bullied, and initially, you defended yourself against the boys' insults by simply ignoring them. This continued until things escalated; insults worsened, and the turning point was when one of them pushed you during PE, claiming it was an accident.

You returned home with a bleeding knee that day, with a strong desire to punch all of them in the face. But honestly, you were outnumbered, and you didn't want to risk being transferred to 3-E, so you did nothing.

Until one day, things changed. Today was a student assembly, where everyone gathered in the main hall to hear announcements from teachers and sometimes the principal. Students lined up according to their classes; you were in 3-C.

Mockery against 3-E started early, and you decided to ignore it and not join the malicious gossip about them. During the assembly, you occasionally looked towards the 3-E line, searching for a red-haired head among the students, but he wasn't there.

Knowing him, he must be somewhere far away from here, which left you feeling somewhat sad because these days you felt lonelier than usual. Despite enjoying his company, with the constant teasing from the boys, your days were terrible.

After what felt like endless minutes, the assembly ended, and students began heading to their respective classes. You looked around, determined to go buy something to drink from the standard vending machines scattered around the school. You walked to a machine near the court and pressed the button for your favorite juice. It took a while to drop, and you were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice a group of boys approaching until one of them quickly grabbed your juice.

You looked startled by the sudden action, but soon anger started to replace the surprise.

"Funny," you said in an ironic tone. "Now give me the juice."

I'm not in the mood," replied the blond, who seemed to be the leader of the group. He opened the juice and drank it. "Horrible, how can you drink such disgusting stuff?"

The boys behind him laughed, and you tried to find humor in the whole situation. The blond made a face at your lack of reaction and poured the juice on the ground.

"You know, I really hoped you'd defend yourself, scream, or even resort to aggression, but you do nothing. Playing with you is not as fun anymore."

"Great, how about leaving me alone?" The blond finished pouring the juice on the ground before crushing the can.

"No, I think it's time to step up the game."

You didn't understand his words at first until the can was thrown forcefully at your head, making you take a few steps back from the impact. Laughter increased when the blond grabbed your wrist and pushed you with all his force into the juice puddle.

You felt your knees scraping on the ground, and you were sure they would be bleeding again. You tried to stand up, but the blond pushed you even more, making you fall completely face-first on the ground.

You tried with all your might to get up, but the boy's strength was superior to yours. You had never felt so weak and humiliated before. You hated crying, especially in front of others, but in this situation, you couldn't prevent tears from forming.

You suppressed them; you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying in front of them.

"Going to cry?" The blond laughed, pushing his weight even more on you. "Hey, Yaru, take a picture for me."

"Ah, man, I left my phone in my bag, hold on, I'll be right back."

You watched Yaru go towards the corridors. This blond had to be a complete sadist to act so maliciously. You had never harmed anyone, always keeping to yourself, just existing. You wondered if this was some kind of punishment for something you did in the past.

You didn't believe much in karma, but you started to doubt it now.

"Yaru is taking too long, don't tell me he chickened out and ran away?" One of the boys laughed.

"Hope not, the bitch here isn't a very comfortable pillow."

The boys laughed again, and you just wished all of it would end. Maybe if you were stronger and smarter, you could have asked for help and avoided these incidents, but nothing could be done now.

Soon, footsteps could be heard, and you just wished this Yaru guy hadn't found his phone. The boys were distracted, so it was a surprise when Yaru fellto the ground, injured and bruised. Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tense air.

"What the hell is going on here?"

You felt relieved recognizing that voice, one that belonged to someone more imposing than all those boys. Honestly, anyone could see the relief on your face for seeing the redhead there.

The sudden presence of Karma made the laughter cease instantly. The boys stepped back, and you looked at the redhead, who stood before them with a furious expression.

"Oh, look who showed up," the blond said, trying to act nonchalant, but his eyes showed nervousness.

Karma advanced towards them with surprising speed, grabbing the blond by his shirt collar and pulling him off you.

"You filthy pigs don't even pick targets that can defend themselves. How pathetic can you get?" Karma's voice was low and threatening.

The other boys began to retreat, realizing that the situation had drastically changed. Karma's sharp gaze passed through each of them before returning to the group's leader.

"Come on, pour juice on my head now," Karma challenged, with a sarcastic smile.

The blond stuttered, unsure how to react. At that moment, Karma let him go, but not before giving him a shove that made him fall on his butt. Karma crouched down, eye level with the blond, and held his chin firmly, forcing him to stare into his golden eyes.

"I could kill you right now, you know, but I don't want to do it in front of my friend," his grip tightened, "This is my first and only warning. If I find out that you and your shitty gang laid a finger on her again, know that a punch from me will be a caress compared to the beating I'll give."

Karma finally let go of the blond, who looked at him in fear. He stood up and stared menacingly at all of them.

"Get out of here before I change my mind."

The boys needed no further encouragement. Hurriedly, they distanced themselves, leaving you and Karma in the tense silence of the corridor.

Karma approached you, observing the contained tears on your face. His severe expression turned into genuine concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently touching your shoulder.

You nodded, unable to contain the gratitude in your eyes. He smiled sideways, as if the situation wasn't a big deal.

"By the way, if you ever need help dealing with those idiots again, I'm here," he reassured with a comforting smile, "Have they been bothering you for a while?"

He sat on the ground, not caring whether it was dirty or not. You felt like you couldn't form any words without letting the tears roll, so you just nodded.

"You should have talked to me as soon as the teasing started. We may not be in the same class anymore, but I'm still your friend."

Karma looked at you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty for distancing himself. He liked 3-E; the people were much friendlier, and he even made one or two friends. But he missed the long conversations with you, and how the chat never seemed to end when it was just the two of you.

When the assembly was over, he was looking for you because he wanted to invite you out, watch a movie, go to a café, anything. He just wanted to spend quality time with you.

You'll never know how much self-control he had to not beat those boys to a pulp and send them all to the hospital because he didn't want your perception of him to change. And despite his reputation following him, you didn't seem to mind.

Karma snapped out of his thoughts when he realized his uniform was wet. He took off his blazer and put it over your shoulders.

You thanked him as he extended his hand.

"Let's go," He said, taking his hand and pulling him up.

"Where are we going?" Your voice was still a bit shaky, but your desire to cry was fading. The presence of the redhead was reassuring to you.

"Anywhere. Let me kidnap you from this terrible school for a morning," he said with his typical mischievous smile, and you chuckled, looking towards the school gates.

Unnoticed by you, if you had paid attention to the redhead, you would have noticed how much his smile widened just by making you laugh.

Maybe everything would be okay as long as you were with him.

A/n: Aaaa just Karma Akabane, hope I managed to capture the essence of our mischievous redhead. Don't forget to like because it helps a lot with engagement. Thanks for reading!

#karma akabane x reader #karma akabane #karma #karma's a bitch #karma x reader #akabane karma #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #Karma Akabane x you

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comfort-writing · 1 year

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Crayons & Cassettes

Chapter 1: The First Day of Kindergarten

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. She bonds with you instantly, and Eddie is trying not to do the same.

warnings: this fic will be 18+ in later chapters, so minors DNI! In this chapter, it is mentioned that rumors about Eddie that still linger. no use of y/n. nothing else I can think of for this chapter because it’s really just an introductory one, but please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 3k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

Trying to shove tiny feet into tiny shoes at 6:30 in the morning was no easy task, especially when the owner of said tiny feet was fighting with all the strength in her five-year-old body to keep said feet out of said shoes.

“Please, Sage. I’ll do anything you want, just please let me put your shoes on.” pleaded an exhausted Eddie. They were already running late, which meant that he would get dirty looks from the other parents, well, dirtier than what he was already expecting. It was Sage’s first day of kindergarten, which he felt bittersweet about. She’d been attending preschool in previous years, so the transition wouldn’t be as difficult for her as it may be for other children, but she didn’t always do well around new people. She was like her dad in that way- she could be shy at first (which deviated from his own standoffishness), but once she warmed up, she was a sweet and bubbly kid.

Sage put her resistance on hold, “Anything?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Eddie knew that look: mischievous and calculating. It scared him a little to see that she was so much like himself, but it also made him a little proud. “Yes, baby. Just put your shoes on and we’ll do anything you want after school.” Sage thought for a moment, then made intense eye contact with Eddie, “Ice cream. And breakfast for dinner.” She bargained. Eddie chuckled and nodded, “Sounds good to me. We got a deal?” He asked, dropping the small shoe he was holding and sticking out his hand. She nodded and shook it, then stuck her foot out for him, beaming at the fact that she would get her two favorite things later that day. Little did she know that he had already planned on those things happening.

He sighed and thanked her, slipping on her glittery pink sneakers and tying them before picking her up off of the couch and setting her on his hip as he grabbed what they’d need for the day. Sage’s brand new Care Bears backpack- check. Keys- check. Wallet- check. Care Bears lunch box- check.

“Alright, ready to go?” He asked her. Sage nodded warily and Eddie walked out the door, kicking it closed behind them before walking to his beat up van, sliding open the back passenger door and setting Sage in her booster seat. He placed her bags on the floor by her feet and helped her buckle her seat belt. She looked up at him, “Dad?” She asked in a whisper “Yes, baby?” He responded absentmindedly. “Do you think my teacher will like me?” She asked anxiously. That made Eddie pause. He looked at her very seriously, grabbing her tiny hands in his own, “She is going to love you, kiddo. You’re freakin’ metal.” He said, leaning down and kissing her forehead. She nodded, “Metal.”

Your classroom was perfect. You’d decided on a rainbow theme for the year, wanting the classroom environment to be welcoming, colorful, and engaging to the 26 five-year-olds that would arrive within the next hour. Your lesson plans were perfect too. You were quite proud of yourself. Moving to a completely new state after teaching in another for a few years made for somewhat of a culture shock. Learning all of the new standards and adapting your previous lesson plans to fit them, along with having to write completely new lessons that fit your school’s specific curriculum was difficult, but not impossible. It was done. Everything was perfect. You were ready.

You’d moved to Hawkins, Indiana at the very end of the summer. You grew up in another small, southern town, so the small town environment wasn’t exactly new to you. It just meant you had to find your footing here. Declare yourself as a character amongst the established ones. You had been able to meet a few of the other teachers, and they all seemed nice enough, but they were all much older than you were. You graduated college only three years prior, and it seemed like half of your coworkers were on the brink of forgetting what college they went to. You needed to find friends your own age, and quick, because being a teacher can be stressful. Having friends around who you can vent to is key to keeping yourself sane.

You looked in the mirror on the inside of your classroom closet door, adjusting your hair for a moment. It was tied up with a clip, messily, but purposefully and cutely so. You pushed a strand behind your ear and made sure you didn’t have lipstick on your teeth. You decided to wear a light green dress and white sneakers- cute, stylish, and comfortable enough to chase around several very energetic children. You knew that the first day of kindergarten was always one in which you met the parents, and while they’d mainly be focused on their children, you knew there was a large possibility of photos being taken. You wanted to make a great first impression, and if your were immortalized in a Polaroid or two, you’d like to look nice. Above you, the school bell rang, signaling to the children that they could start making their way to class. You smiled and walked over to the door of your class, opening it up for the parents to bring their kids in.

Parents and students began trickling into the classroom. You shook their hands and introduced yourself to each one, smiling genuinely and directing the parents to where their child’s desk and cubby were located. On the first day, you always let parents stay for a while, and even held a carpet story time/coloring session in order to make the transition easier for both parties. You noted that a few kids were crying, which gave you a good indication of what kids would continue to be criers throughout the year. You didn’t judge, you just liked to know what was up.

You were crouching down to take a picture with one of your new students when a man who looked very out of place in your rainbow classroom walked in, a small girl hiding behind his pant leg. You smiled up at him, holding up one finger apologetically, signaling that you’d be with him in a moment. You looked up at the mom who’d just taken your picture, “Would you like me to take a picture of the two of you?” You asked. The woman nodded, so you stood and swapped positions with her. You wound the film on her disposable camera, “Say cheese!” You encouraged, which drew a confused face from the small boy, as he’d somehow never heard the phrase before. You snapped the picture without realizing the face he’d made and smiled, handing the camera back to the also oblivious mother and she walked her son to his desk.

You then turned your attention to the man standing in the doorway. You smiled and stuck out your hand, introducing yourself. “Eddie Munson.” He said softly. His hands were warm, but you noted the rings he wore made them feel colder. Eddie was an attractive guy, you wouldn’t lie to yourself about it. His hair was long, dark, and curly. He wore a leather jacket and a denim vest on top of it. He definitely had the whole rockstar look down, which looked a bit funny when surrounded by rainbows. There was also his daughter, who looked like a pink glitter bomb had exploded over her, as was typical for girls her age. You didn’t linger on his touch like you may have liked to, as you had to introduce yourself to someone more important. You bent and stood on your knees, peeking around Mr. Munson’s knees, “And who is this pretty princess?” You asked, hoping that calling her a princess would help her warm up to you.

You were right. The small girl poked her head out from behind the man’s knees. You saw that she got her looks from her dad; she had brown, curly hair that was currently tied back in a high ponytail, coupled with bright brown eyes and a small smattering of the lightest freckles across her nose. She spoke, barely above a whisper, “I’m Sage.” You smiled encouragingly, “That’s such a pretty name. Did you know Sage is a type of plant? And a color?” You gasped, piquing her interest, “Oh my goodness! It’s the color of my dress!” You said, feigning surprise, as if you were just discovering that fact for the first time. “And guess what?” You whispered. Sage was entranced, gaining the courage to move out from behind her dad and listen to the ‘secret’ you were entrusting her with. “It’s my favorite color.” You smiled softly, making eye contact with the small girl. It made her feel special. She smiled up at her dad, who was watching the interaction intently. “You want to find your desk and set your stuff down, Sage?” You asked her. She nodded fervently, excited to get the day started.

You stood back up to your fill height and led the two to Sage’s desk. “So, Mr. Munson, you are welcome to through story time and coloring. I try to allow time for the parents to stay for a while to help their kids adjust to the new environment.” You told him as Sage was putting her lunch box into her desk. The man seemed to shift uncomfortably, “Ah- I don’t know. Are you sure?” He asked you. You nodded, “Yeah, of course. Every parent is welcome to stay through that time. If Sage doesn’t do well around new people or in a new place, it can help her out a lot.” You assured him. He seemed to think for a moment before nodding, making his decision.

Little did you know, the reason so many people were watching the interaction carefully was because, despite being a good dad who provided for his daughter, the rumor mill still swirled around the Munson family. He didn’t want his daughter to have to deal with the same problems he did, so he was apprehensive about staying, but you seemed to believe it would benefit her if he was there, so he would stay.

Another parent walked through the door, so you excused yourself to go greet them the same way. After your kindergarteners we’re all there, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. You smiled wide, walking to the front of the classroom. “Good morning, everyone! I hope we’re all excited to get started with our day! Today, we are going to…”

After successfully driving Sage to school, and luckily arriving around the time he’d originally intended to somehow, he guided his small daughter through the halls of the school. At the end of the kindergarten hall was Sage’s classroom for the year. He bent down to her level, “You ready? Or do you want to take a minute?” He asked her. He knew that sometimes she had to prepare herself to go into a new situation. He was the same way; needing to take a few breaths or psych himself up for whatever he would encounter. Sage thought for a moment, “I’m ready.” She said, looking determined. He nodded, holding her hand and guiding her to the classroom.

That’s when he spotted you. You had the biggest and most genuine smile on your face as you took a photo with another student. He saw the way you acknowledged him right when he walked into the door, making him feel seen, but still kept your focus on the people you were with, most likely doing the same for them. It was a small gesture, sure, and it may have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but he really didn’t know what to think about all of this. He didn’t recognize you, even though you seemed to be around the same age, so that meant you likely hadn’t heard the nasty rumors that still lingered around him like a rain cloud, even into adulthood. He was drinking in the small kindnesses you showed him in the following interactions.

You reached out and shook his hand, introducing yourself to him. He didn’t know why, but it surprised him that you introduced yourself with your first and last name to him. It made you seem more approachable. He spoke his own name as calmly as he could, internally struggling not to stumble over it. When you bent down to introduce yourself to his daughter, he watched as you related to her immediately, over something as silly as a color. But she opened up quickly to you, which was so incredibly rare for her. He truly couldn’t grasp what it was about you, but he basked in your presence and he didn’t want to leave. Not for Sage’s sake, but for his own. It was no secret to himself that he found you attractive- you were pretty, new to their small town, and he didn’t see a ring- but there was something else he couldn’t place. He obviously couldn’t do anything about it in the moment, so he shifted his attention back to his daughter, helping her prep for her first day.

Once you wrapped the story up, you had the students start on a coloring page that correlated with the story. This was the time for parents to start trickling out. Eddie watched as other parents left. He looked to Sage, “Listen kiddo, I’ve got to go to work, but I’ll pick you up later, okay?” He told her. During pre-k, they’d gotten pretty good at the whole ‘dad’s going to be gone for a few hours but you will be ok’ exchange. Sage nodded, “Okay. Don’t forget about the ice cream and breakfast.” She said, scribbling with a red crayon and not paying him much attention. He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head before standing up and heading towards the door.

Before he could leave, you grabbed a piece of paper off of the desk, “Oh, Mr. Munson-“ you whispered, as the students were quietly working as the parents slowly left, “Here is my newsletter for the month. It basically covers everything we’ll be doing in class, and what you can be doing to help supplement Sage’s learning at home. I usually mail these out to the parents, but the front office said your address changed recently?” Eddie took the newsletter and nodded, “Ah- thank you. Yeah, we moved into a new house last week. It was after I registered her, so I’ll have to get that changed. Do you need me to write my address down before I leave?” He asked. “Well, if you would, that would be very helpful, but if Sage will get upset if you’re here longer, I can just wait until you update your information with the office.” You told him quietly. Eddie shook his head, “Nah, Sage is a trooper. She knows the drill.” He said, proud of his daughter.

You smiled softly, a smile that made his knees feel a little weak, and grabbed a pen and a notepad off of your desk, handing it to him. “If you could write down your new address, as well as your phone number, that would be great.” You told him. He had to fight the urge to make a joke about hitting on him in front of the kids. Years ago, that would have been the first thing he said to you, and he wouldn’t have thought twice. But now, his number one concern was his daughter, and doing anything that may end up being detrimental to her, like flirting with her teacher, was off his radar. He scribbled out the information before handing the paper back to you, “Thank you. Just make sure you update this with the office as soon as possible. Hopefully you’ll only hear from me about once or twice a month, as I do the newsletter and a call home for an update. But keep an eye on the events section of the newsletter-“ you said, pointing it out, “-it will have important dates like any parent/teacher conferences and the kid’s Christmas recital on there. And please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever have any questions or concerns. My information is down at the bottom. I’ve got an answering machine, so leave a voicemail if I don’t pick up; I should give you a call back within 24 hours.” You informed him quietly, finishing up with a soft smile.

Eddie nodded, taking in all the information you were giving him. It felt like a lot, but he knew that most of the important stuff would be in the paper you gave him. “Thank you. I’ve still got a little more time before work so I think I’ll go to the office now.. where is it again?” He asked, feeling more lost than he should. This is where he went to elementary school, but it had been so long since he’d been in the building it felt a little foreign to him. You smiled and opened the door, pointing him in the right direction through the halls. He thanked you once more, then started off thought the school as you shut the door.

You and Eddie were both left the same thought:

This isn’t good.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #singledad!eddie Munson #dad!eddie Munson x reader #teacher!reader #singledad!eddie Munson x reader #stranger things #fanfic #I kinda ignore canon events sorry #I just want Eddie to be happy is that so wrong

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nogenderbee · 9 months

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Hii Bee!! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕ᴗ◕⁠)⁠ﾉ*✧

May I request the pjsk boys with a reader who has low stamina and is really bad at any kinds of sports; then on one day during PE lesson, the teacher demanded the reader's class(imagine the pjsk boys are in the same class as the reader)to run 5 laps around the school playground non-stop(means that stopping or walking to catch on some air for even 1 second aren't allowed, or else punishments like running 1 more lap are given)as a warm-up, the reader barely made it in the end due to their low stamina, not to mention that the playground is quite huge, it's about 200-300m for only 1 single lap; therefore, how would the pjsk boys help and comfort the reader afterwards(EG: giving the reader some small praises, handing the reader their own water bottle to drink since the reader's throat was burning like hell, being a wall for the reader to lean on since the reader's legs were super sore, etc)?

This is again my own experience at school rn, every PE lessons are litteral very exhausting hell to me, I hate PE lessons ngl. Btw, this idea popped up into my mind when I was running the 5 laps during PE lessons today, it was kinda silly of me to imagine the pjsk boys cheering for me whilst doing so just for comfort, lol. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)|||

If you decided to write this request, thank you so much for doing so! Have an awesome day/afternoon/night, Bee! ♡⊂⁠(^ω^)⁠つ♡

Hello! And of course! I honestly relate so it was pretty nice to write~ Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did ^^

Akito, Toya, Tsukasa, Rui with reader who's low stamina

TagList: @bleachtheidiot @yulikesminori @miya-akane @coffeeykhs @alicewinter @indi-has-fallen @vodka-glrl

⊱ when task was given, Akito probably argued with teacher a bit. Not necessarily with anger in angry tone but he tried to get at least one lap less! If he succeeds then good for you and he'll definitely be proud for a long time! If not, you only heard him mutter few curses while passing you

"That... ugh... well whatever, I tried. Don't worry tho, we'll get it."

⊱ during running, he probably kept you company or ran a little bit beside you to hopefully make it a bit better for you but he won't admit to it

⊱ he also wanted to make sure no oke throws their few cents about your low stamina so he was usually passing everyone that passed by you

⊱ he won't talk with you and will tell you to not talk yourself as to not get tired too quickly, but he may start telling you few stories when he sees you're out of it

⊱ and when it's finally over, he'll pat your shoulder and give you your or if you forgot yours then he'll give you his water bottle

"Hey, good job there. It was one of a hella big step. How about we go for pancakes after school, hm?"

⊱ Toya immidietly knew you'll struggle theoguh this task and he hated the thought of it... so of course he decided to stay close to you if you won't mind

⊱ he also tells you to run slowly and in your own peace, after all there's no tempo in which you need to run, you just can't stop

"We can run slowly. Task is to run set number of laps, not to run at specific peace."

⊱ during running, he'll drop small compliment every loop or maybe even a bit more often sometimes

⊱ he's not good at talking so he'll just run about next to you and make sure you won't faint on spot next to him

⊱ as soon as you finish 5 laps, he'll just pick you up and carry you to the closest bench where he passes you water bottle

"You did really great job, Y/N. I knew you could do this."

⊱ after school, he probably offers to carry you either way at least for few minutes to make sure your legs won't hurt too bad tomorrow

⊱ let's be honest, Tsukasa is the type to make whole drama to teacher about it and put on his acting skills for a challange if it means he can make your life a bit better

⊱ but when his plan fails... he thinks of many ways to make it better for you... and that's when he finds the moment when teacher turns around and immidietly takes you ok piggy back ride so you can have at least one lap less!

"Listener quick! We have a second so jump on my back and I'll carry you for at least a lap!"

⊱ but if you're running on your own and there's no way for teacher to turn around, he'll literally give you the best motivating lines he could think of on the spot

⊱ and when you're finally done, you can be sure he'll literally carry you bridal style while absolutely spoiling you with compliments

"My star! That was truly magnificent show! I believe we should celebrate our victory in our favorite spot!"

⊱ and after classes, he's literally ready to carry you for the whole day just to make it a bit easier for you after this big step

⊱ Rui just knew how much you didn't wanted to go through this so of course he tied convincing you to make up some excuse if you don't want to participate in those classes

⊱ bur if it doesn't work and you have to go through this classes, he'll try to be there and cheee you up!

⊱ he also makes few notes to himself and will definitely try to taking of some inventing that could help you with this problem

"Hmm... if I make something similar to my invention 0084 but adjust- oh don't worry, I was just lost in my thoughts for a second there!"

⊱ after you did it, he'll gently pat your shoulder and compliment how well you did there, just to ask if you want some cold water since he'll go drop by shop really quick

⊱ but overally, he's just there assuring you that you did really good job!

"You did amazing job there, darling. You don't know how proud of you I am~"

⊱ be prepared because on next day you may or may not receive new invention of his~

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Into the Rush - Part One | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, crack, Best Friend's Brother!AU, Dodgeball!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of feeling rejected and unlovable, a little angsty but you know me, pansexual!Taehyung in the house, side VMin, Wooga Squad alert, Himbo NamKook alert, dance leader Hobi is reimagined here as a dodgeball team captain, implied sex, the smut is to come (heh) in part two

Word Count: 7.3K for part one; total wc tbd

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: When your best friend Taehyung tells you he has the perfect thing to help you get over a broken heart, you’re surprised to learn he means dodgeball, the beloved game of sociopathic gym teachers everywhere. But even more surprising is the way you find comfort in the game, and so much more, as you fall into the rush with the help of another teammate - his brother, Seokjin.

A/N: Happy belated birthday, Jin! This was written as part of the Catch of the Century collab, hosted by MVPs @raplinesmoon @joheunsaram and @kithtaehyung!

Sooooo this underwent a few rewrites and then my life blew up as the December deadline got closer and then I decided to do Kinkmas because I'm just a gal who can't say no. I knew I could either rush to get this done, be upset at how shoddily written it is, and then hate myself for putting out something I wasn't proud of just to meet the deadline, orrrrr I could be kind to myself and recognize that I am a human and not a machine and sometimes despite my best efforts I fall short, and release it as a two-parter. Et voilà! Here is part one.

Unbeta'd as usual.

Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Part Two

“Dodgeball. You want to play dodgeball?”

You stare at your roommate incredulously. Taehyung nods.

“Dodgeball. The kids game? The beloved sport of sociopathic PE teachers everywhere? That dodgeball?”

He can’t be serious. Neither you nor he are the athletic type. But from the solemn look on his face as you continue to sputter in surprise, you know he’s not joking. Taehyung is many things - an artist, a daydreamer, the kindest soul you’ve ever met and your best friend of five years and counting - but he’s not a liar.

Still, when he’d walked into your room five minutes ago, yanked back the curtains to let the late-morning light in, and told you to get up because he had an idea, you’d assumed he’d wanted you to go with him down to the coffee shop on the corner so he could covertly admire his latest crush, the cute barista with the pink hair. Dodgeball was nowhere near the possibilities your mind conjured up.

Taehyung sighs. “Yes. Dodgeball. There’s an adult league that plays at the rec center on Saturdays and I want to join. And I want you to join, too.” He flops down on your bed, nudging you over so he can lie next to you, ignoring your grumbles as you make room. “I think it would be good for you to get out a little. Get some fresh air.”

“I have plenty of fresh air,” you inform him, gesturing to your bedroom window, which is currently cracked about an inch. It might be spring, but the chill that clings in the air still feels like winter.

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. But out of curiosity, when’s the last time you actually left the apartment, besides for work?”

“Um.” He’s got you there. Casting your mind back, you can’t even remember the last time you left the safety of your home to do anything other than clock in at the bartending job where you both work. “Does going to the mailbox count?”

It doesn’t, and he doesn’t even need to respond, just gives you his signature exasperated look, but the warmth in his brown eyes shimmers just beneath as always. “Pumpkin,” he begins, using one of the many silly nicknames he loves to address you by, knowing how much you hate cutesy stuff like that, “you can’t hide in here forever.”

An instant rebuttal floats through your mind. You absolutely can hide in your room for the rest of your life, if you so choose. The internet brings the world to your fingertips. Everything can be delivered these days. Okay, true, you’ll still need to leave for work, but that’s only until you finish your novel and net yourself a publishing deal. Then you can quit your crappy bartending job, build yourself the perfect blanket nest, and become the hermit you were always meant to be.

Joining a dodgeball team doesn’t fit into that plan. It’s going to require you to go outside. Outside is dangerous.

Outside is where he is.

At the sharp pang that stabs your gut, you turn to your roommate with a grimace. “I don’t know. I’m not really a… sports…person - and neither are you, frankly. And it’s a team sport, which means others will be relying on you. You really think this is something you can commit to? I mean, remember the gym?”

Last year, the two of you had joined a gym together at his suggestion, which you both had visited a grand total of one time. He later confessed he’d only signed up because a hot customer at the bar had convinced him to after a long evening of flirting. That short-lived commitment ended the moment Taehyung arrived at the gym and discovered that the hot patron’s promise to give Tae a full-body workout was not, to Tae’s disappointment, a euphemism, but only a sales pitch.

Again, Taehyung doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, he uses the one weapon in his arsenal that destroys you every time the two of you argue over what to do.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung flashes you his big sad puppy dog eyes.

You sigh. “Goddamn it. Fine. Fine. Let’s play dodgeball.”

Immediately, Taehyung’s countenance changes, a brilliant, boxy smile crossing his face as he grins at your caving. “Great! Sign-ups are actually this afternoon, sooooo… up and at ‘em, cupcake! Let’s get moving.” He jumps up, holding out his hands, and you begrudgingly let him pull you out of bed. “You’re definitely going to need a shower before we meet the other players.”

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?” you mutter as you follow him down the hallway towards your tiny kitchen to brew some coffee, knowing you’ll need the caffeine if you’re going to be socializing with strangers this afternoon.

He beams again, tossing his dark bangs out of his eyes. “All the time.”

The rec center is only a few blocks from your apartment, but you’d never stepped foot inside before Taehyung drags you down there to sign up for the league. Still, there’s a familiar scent when you walk into the building, the smell of rubber mats and sweat mingling together, stirring up memories of PE classes from grade school. The flashbacks make you shudder.

Taehyung shakes you out of your memories as he steers you towards a folding table that’s been set up in the lobby. “Come on, we check in here.” A friendly woman in a purple tracksuit sitting at the table waves you over.

“Hiya! Are you team leaders or free agents?” She laughs at your blank stares. “Okay, I’ll take that to mean you’re not here to sign up an existing team, but you’re free agents in search of a team to join!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s us,” Taehyung nods sagely, as if he knew that.

“Great! If you’ll just fill out these forms…” she hands you both a sheet of paper, “I will process your fees, and then I can point you in the direction of some teams looking to add some new players!”

Forms? Fees? This is more complicated than you’d expected. You’d figured you’d just walk in and play, like joining a pick-up game of basketball or something similar that people who like sports might do. “So, um, how does this work?”

The smile never leaves her face as Ms. Purple Tracksuit explains that you’ll be joining a team for the next ten weeks to play against other teams in a tournament ending in a championship match between the two best teams. “And the fee covers your uniform!”

“A uniform?”

She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just a t-shirt.”

After you hand in your form and make Taehyung pay your fee, Ms. Purple Tracksuit tells you to head into the main gymnasium, where the team leaders looking for new recruits are waiting. There’s another dose of déjà vu as you enter the room to find several clusters of players standing around, sizing you up as you walk in. It reminds you of being a kid, waiting on the sidelines while the other kids whisper to one another about who to pick.

“Uh, this is a little intense,” you whisper to Taehyung, clinging to his elbow as he blithely strolls between the groups. “I feel like I’m being judged.”

“Nah, this is a numbers thing,” he says. According to Ms. Purple Tracksuit, teams consist of six to ten players, so there’s a good chance you’ll be able to find a team together. If you’re picked at all, that is. “Whatever team needs two players will take us, I’m sure.”

Your roommate just wanders through life with a natural confidence that you’ve rarely seen in others. You suppose it makes sense, given how handsome and talented he is. Still irks you a bit.

“And what makes you say that?” You scan the room, taking in the other players. There are several others who wear similar expressions to your own, looking a little overwhelmed. It strangely gives you hope that you won’t be the only one here who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

And then there are those who look like they live, eat, and breathe dodgeball, like the two tall, muscle-bound gods to your left, both wearing a shirt that says “Rock the Balls.” Team leaders, you assume.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Taehyung replies distractedly, and you frown, following his gaze to see what caught his attention, since he’s clearly not listening, only to spy pink hair and a gorgeous smile that you recognize from your favorite coffee shop.

Grabbing his arm, you force your roommate to look at you as you hiss his name. “Taehyung. Tell me we’re not here because of that barista!”

“Hmm?” Tae’s starry-eyed expression is all the answer you need. Of course. Of course he dragged you here so he could flirt with his crush. How did you not see this coming? “What? Noooo, I told you, I want to play dodgeball! But isn’t it a nice coincidence that Jimin is here?”

“Right. Coincidence. You’re unbelievable.” With an exasperated sigh, you give him a push. “Well, go talk to your man. See if his team needs two new players.”

Taehyung doesn’t need telling twice, happily bouncing towards the barista. And now you’re alone in a gymnasium full of strangers, feeling left out again. As you slowly revolve in place, looking for somewhere to hide and wait for Taehyung to return, one of the muscle-bound gods approaches.

“Hey,” he says, giving you a little head nod. “You looking for a team?”

Technically, you suppose you are, but you should probably see if Taehyung will be dragging you on to Jimin’s team with him first. But as you glance at the god, with his wavy dark hair and silver lip ring nestled in the corner of a pair of rather pink lips, you’ve the urge to say yes. He and his buddy are mind-meltingly hot.

“I’m not sure. I’m here with a friend,” you finally respond. Super glad Taehyung forced you to shower today.

The god nods, eyes dragging over your frame. If you touched your cheeks right now, you’re pretty sure they’d be blazing hot under his gaze. “That’s cool. I’m Jungkook, by the way, and this is Namjoon.” He nods to the other god, whose lips quirk in a cool half-smile.

“Sup,” he rumbles, jerking his chin in your direction. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair, fingers scratching over the lines buzzed into the sides. “We run Rock the Balls. And we’re looking for two new members.”

“Actually, that’s gonna be three new members,” a familiar voice declares behind you. Your eyes widen before you spin to find yet another handsome man behind you. But this one you know well.

“Jin-ah!” Throwing your arms around his neck, you attack Seokjin with a hug, grinning as his squeaky laugh echoes through the gymnasium. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve seen Taehyung’s older brother, but he looks mostly the same - the same warm brown eyes surrounded by ever-deepening laugh lines, the same perfect cupid’s bow twitching as he smiles as you. The only difference is that his hair is a little shaggier now, a fluffy brown cloud that bounces when you finally release him.

“I could get used to a hello like that,” Seokjin grins.

“When did you get home?” you ask, vaguely aware that the gods have drifted away. “And what are you doing here?”

“Got in two days ago. I would’ve stopped by to see you and Tae-yah, but I needed to get my land legs back first.” Seokjin probably means that pretty literally, since he’s spent the last year on a research station in the middle of the ocean. As a marine biologist, he works at a local lab run by a federal agency, studying the effects of ocean pollution on various species of fish. Occasionally, he has to do field work, but this last round was his longest stint yet, taking him away from home for nearly twelve full months. “When I texted him this morning, he mentioned that he was joining a dodgeball team, and I… well, I had to check that out for myself.” You both laugh. “So I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You definitely did that!” you confirm. “I want to hear all about your research trip. Did you find anything interesting? Discover any new species?” You lean in excitedly. “Did you finally find some mermaids??”

Seokjin tuts. “Aish, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not a deep sea diver, I’m just a guy pulling water samples off a dock?”

“Yeah, whatever, Jin Cousteau.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was really hoping that that nickname would’ve died out in the last year.”

“Oh no, that one’s for life. And listen, you can downplay your job all you want, but I know the deal. You just can’t tell me anything because the government forces you to keep those secrets locked down. But I’ll get the truth out of you someday.”

“Oh?” Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. “And just how d-”

“Hyung!!”

“Oof!” Seokjin grunts as your roommate launches himself at his brother, tackling him in a bear hug. When the affectionate embrace becomes a wrestling match in the middle of the gym, you feel a presence at your side, and turn to find Jimin and another man watching the melee with a surprised look on their faces.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure them, “they’re always like this.”

“Uh, okay,” the barista chuckles. “Um, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok-ah, this is YN, Taehyung-ah’s roommate.”

“Hey.” The other man grins a smile that can only be described as a beam of pure sunshine, and you wonder if this dodgeball league is for models only, because you’re basically surrounded by nothing but gorgeous people.

“Hi. Um, and that is Seokjin, Tae-yah’s brother,” you gesture to the skirmish.

“Mmmice to meet eww!” Seokjin’s response is a little muffled by Taehyung’s armpit, but he manages to wave.

“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” Taehyung whines.

“Anted oo urprise!” Seokjin finally untangles himself from his brother’s headlock. “Wanted to surprise you,” he says again, more clearly.

“We’re starting a new team, and we could use three players, if you’d all like to join us?” Hoseok asks.

“Are you sure you want this on your team?” you reply, gesturing to Taehyung and Seokjin.

“I think we can handle them,” Jimin grins, and Taehyung’s smile turns blinding. “Besides, we could use that energy on the court!”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees. “Also, we’re a brand new team, so we’re desperate!”

“That’s my favorite word.” Seokjin’s shoulders shake as he cracks himself up. “We’re in!”

Hoseok smiles. “Fantastic. Welcome to the Seven Slamurai!”

Once you’ve finished signing up for Hoseok’s team, you, Taehyung, and Seokjin decide to grab some dinner together. Another thing about Seokjin that hasn’t changed during his time away is his voracious appetite, so you take him to an all-you-can-eat bbq restaurant not far from the rec center.

As the soju starts flowing and the plates start piling up, Seokjin tells you about his year on the ocean. He starts out with a disclaimer, warning you that his research isn’t interesting, and he’s not entirely wrong. Most of it goes over your head, since it’s been years since you last took a biology course. But it’s not really what he’s talking about that keeps you focused on him, it’s how he talks about it that holds your attention. You’re fascinated by his passion for his work. His dedication to studying ocean life in order to preserve and protect it. It makes you wish you had a cause of your own to defend.

And then, of course, as the liquor catches up with him, he tells you all the gossip about the other crew members on his station - the hookups, the fights, all the little scandals that brought the drama to the high seas. Seokjin’s always been a good storyteller, knowing just what to say to keep you and Taehyung laughing.

“But what about you?” you ask when Seokjin pauses to stuff some pork belly in his face. “Did you have any flings with any of the other scientists? Hmmm? Dip your fishing rod in company waters?”

“Gross,” Taehyung mumbles around a mouthful of beef bulgogi.

Seokjin shakes his head. “Nah. I didn’t click with anyone there like that. Honestly, we spent so much time together each day that by the end of it, I was dying to get away from most of them, which was really hard to do since we were basically stranded together in the middle of nowhere! So I spent a lot of my downtime hiding in my bunk, reading old research papers that I found in the station’s library.”

“You read research papers for fun?” Taehyung looks horrified.

Downing another shot of soju, you lean towards Seokjin, licking the peach-flavored drops from your lips. “Come on. You’re telling me you went an entire year without hooking up with anyone? Not even a little making out?”

“Nope.” Seokjin pops the ‘p.’ At your incredulous look, he laughs, lifting his shoulders. “What? A year’s not that long! I made it just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, “it’s not that long. Besides, he was probably jerking off nonstop.”

Soju flies out of Seokjin’s nose as you and Taehyung burst into raucous laughter. Seokjin scolds his brother, who argues back as he always does, telling the elder to loosen up, while you sit quietly, chin in hand, smiling to yourself as you watch the fireworks, realizing how nice it is to have Seokjin home again.

He and Taehyung are pretty much a package deal. You’d met Taehyung first during your senior year of college. At the time, Seokjin was finishing up his graduate program at the same school, and his plans to move out of his and Taehyung’s apartment upon graduation and roll right into some field work had Taehyung feeling like he was being left high and dry. You’d ended up becoming Taehyung’s new roommate that summer, and then it had turned out that Taehyung’s worries were all for naught, because Seokjin still spent most of his free time hanging out at his (now your) place, anyway.

You didn’t mind then and you don’t mind now. Seokjin’s a good balance to all of Taehyung’s extremes. Where Taehyung has his head in the clouds, Seokjin’s feet are firmly planted in the ground. Taehyung can be mercurial, even flaky sometimes, but Seokjin’s rock-steady. They’re not complete opposites in everything, though. Just like his brother, Seokjin has a big heart.

Once Seokjin runs out of steam, Taehyung shrugs. “I’m just saying, being with someone isn’t the only way to be satisfied. Just look at me. I’m single and I’m happy.”

He looks almost smug as he states this, and something inside you snaps. The last thing you want to hear from Taehyung is another speech about loving yourself. You’ve heard plenty of those over the last few weeks. You do love yourself.

You just wanted someone else to love you, too.

Pointing your chopsticks at him, you frown. “Oh, please don’t start! One, you were just dating a guy last month, so it’s not like you’ve gone an entire year without being with someone, and two, you literally just dragged me onto a freaking dodgeball team so you could start dating another! So I don’t want to hear any platitudes about embracing your singleness or anything like that.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment after your outburst. “Sorry,” he finally says, poking at the remains of the kimchi on his plate. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-”

“Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’

Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression.

“I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.”

Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock.

“What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!”

You know this, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. Seokjin is actually the one who introduced the two of you, at the party he threw before he left for his research trip. You remember that night very clearly, can close your eyes and picture Yoongi standing there, with silver hair and silver hoops in his ears, dark cat eyes shimmering as Seokjin gave him your name, and you feel that same swoop in your stomach as you did then. Only now it comes with a painful twist of your heart as well.

Falling for Yoongi happened so quickly. You’d immediately bonded over a shared love of hip-hop and whisky, spending the party huddled together on the couch, snarking over Seokjin’s music collection and liquor selection, talking until the sun came up and Seokjin started throwing everyone out. As you left, you’d asked Seokjin for Yoongi’s number. But before you even entered it into your phone, a text appeared from Yoongi himself. He confessed he’d asked Seokjin for your number as well.

“I haven’t talked to Yoongi-yah in a while.” Seokjin glances at you. “You know how hard it was for me to keep in touch. There’s no cell phone reception in the middle of the ocean, and the internet seemed to come and go at will. At least I heard from you two occasionally, but I didn’t hear from Yoongs except on my birthday, and we didn’t… you didn’t come up.” He looks apologetic as he says those last words, and your heart pangs again.

“It’s okay, why would I have?” you snort. “Like I said, it turned out to be a big bunch of nothing between us.” Despite what you thought. What you felt.

A server appears at the table to drop off the bill, and you welcome the interruption, wanting to go home and crawl into the safety of your bed again, feeling like it was a mistake to leave in the first place. Taehyung and Seokjin fight over who is going to pay, with Taehyung winning, practically throwing his card at the server, but you’re too distracted by your thoughts to enjoy the scene.

Texting with Yoongi had turned into late night conversations. Going to concerts and bars to check out new musicians, doing whisky tastings and visiting distilleries. It felt like you were glued at the hip for a few months, and the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. Like the way you fell into his bed, over and over.

But nothing sticks out in your memory more than that last night, the last time you saw him, when you finally found the courage to tell him how you felt. You’ll never forget the sad look on his face. It told you everything you needed to know before he even spoke.

“Buttercup?” Taehyung’s voice pulls you from your reverie. “You ready to go?” He and Seokjin are staring at you, both on their feet already, waiting to leave.

With a nod, you rise, and follow them out into the night.

Despite the name, the Seven Slamurai consists of nine players. (When you asked why, Jimin rolled his eyes and said he’d tried to argue with Hoseok over the moniker, but Hoseok was insistent that the name stay true to his favorite movie.) In addition to Hoseok, Jimin, Seokjin, Taehyung, and yourself, there are four others at your first practice session on Monday night at the rec center - Wooshik, Sunghwan, Seojoon, and Hyungsik. You exchange a few quick greetings with your new teammates before Hoseok gestures for you all to sit on the bleachers.

“Welcome everyone to our first team practice!” Hoseok smiles, clapping, and you lightly clap along until you realize no one else is. “Before we do some warm-ups, I thought I’d take a minute to explain the rules of the game, for those of you who haven’t played before.”

He launches into an overview of the sport. Most of it is familiar from your school days, but there are a few things that are new, like something about a rush, and a neutral zone, and a burden ball? You glance around to see if anyone else looks confused. Most of the new guys wear bored expressions. It’s safe to assume they’re experienced players. To your left, Taehyung is whispering something to Jimin, completely ignoring Hoseok’s spiel.

At least Seokjin, on your right, seems slightly dazed by the long list of rules that Hoseok’s rattling off. Now that you think of it, you’ve never seen Seokjin in any athletic context. As far as you know, he doesn’t play any sports, just like you and Taehyung, and he’s not a gym rat. So you have no idea what to expect from him on the court. Maybe he’ll be just as awkward as you’re expecting to be.

“Any questions?” Hoseok finishes up. There’s a moment of silence from the group, and then he claps his hands. “Okay! Then let’s warm up a little.”

You move from the bleachers to a mat on the floor and Hoseok leads everyone through a series of stretches. It’s been a long time since you’ve done any, so you’re not surprised when your toes remain fully out of your reach. Jimin, on the other hand, has folded himself in half, forehead practically touching the ground as he holds on to both feet. Turning to Seokjin to make a comment, you’re surprised to find him in a similar position.

He catches you looking. “Yoga,” he explains with a wink.

“Damn. Maybe I should start,” you grunt, giving up.

“The games are played with teams of five, which means we’ll have four alternates for each match,” Hoseok explains once everyone’s limbered up. “For today, I’d like us to run through a practice game, four on each side. I’m going to stay out and watch, to help me get a feel for who might be a starter and who might be an alt.”

The group splits in half, with you, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin on one side, and the rest on the other. Hoseok stands at one end of the line in the middle of the court, where six balls lie waiting.

“Okay, ready, set!” And with a sharp blast of the whistle hanging from his neck, Hoseok brings the game to a start.

Immediately, Jimin and Taehyung run forward towards the center line, reaching for a ball each, while the other team mirrors their actions, rushing forward. But you? You freeze in the scramble, hands automatically coming up to shield your head. And as the first balls fly towards your side, you scream.

And so does Seokjin.

“Shit!” you curse as one of the rubber balls bounces off your arm. That’s definitely going to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Seokjin yelps as he’s smacked in the shoulder by another ball.

Tweet!

The action stops as Hoseok blows his whistle. His sunny smile is gone, replaced by an intense look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down. It’s intimidating, especially since it’s aimed directly at you.

“That was… not bad,” he says slowly through gritted teeth, speaking as though the words hurt him. “But maybe this time, you two should try joining the opening rush? Remember, no one can throw a ball at you as long as you’re in the neutral zone, so you’ll have time to grab and get back out of the line of fire.”

He glances from you to Seokjin, who nods as you grin in embarrasment. Great, you’ve already been identified as a weak player. You were hoping you could at least pretend to know what you were doing for a little while. Fly under the radar.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist. “Come on, ladybug, it’s not that scary. You just gotta jump in. Don’t think, just go.”

You shake him off with a scoff. Easy for him to say. You saw the way he was running around the court a minute ago, taking to the chaos like a duck to water. Should’ve known he’d turn out to be a natural athlete on top of all his other annoyingly amazing traits.

The game restarts, and this time you make an attempt to run towards the center line, but still hesitate, flashbacks of being pelted with balls running through your brain. Why did you agree to this? You always hated dodgeball in school!

Seokjin, on the other hand, joins Jimin and Taehyung at the line, and scoops up a ball before dashing back to where you’re frozen. The balls start flying again, and once again you’re out before anyone else. After a few more minutes, Hoseok ends the play.

“That was better!” he nods. “But let’s try it again, and this time maybe you can make it all the way forward, huh, YN?” His tone is encouraging, but his smile seems strained.

As you shuffle back towards the end of the court, you nudge Jimin. “Is Hoseok okay? He looks a little stressed.”

Jimin shoots you a lopsided smile. “He’s trying not to be as… intense… as he usually gets. We got kicked off our last team because he went a little overboard with his, uh, enthusiasm during the practice matches.”

The whistle blows before you’re ready, and you decide to take Taehyung’s advice, so you bolt forward without thinking, snatch up a ball, and then back away, not wanting to turn your back to the men behind you. In doing so, you catch Wooshik’s eye, and he grins coldly, winding up.

“Shit!” you yell, jumping out of the way in time. Taehyung dives in to catch it, sending Wooshik out of the game. But you’re not safe, as Seojoon takes aim next. Seokjin is next to you, trying to decide where to throw the ball in his hand, so you duck behind him, mimicking his movements. Eventually, he realizes he has a shadow.

“Are you using me as a human shield?” He bobs to the left. You follow.

“It’s not my fault you’re so broad!”

Seokjin honks a noisy mix of delighted laughter and insulted exclamation. Seojoon tires of waiting for you to emerge from behind Seokjin, so he pitches the ball forward, a low toss heading for Seokjin’s legs. Seokjin bends gracefully to catch the difficult throw, taking Seojoon out of the game, and as Seokjin doubles over, you snap the ball in your hands towards Hyungsik, hitting him directly in the side. Another ball rolls towards your feet, so you scoop it up and nail Sunghwan dead center of his chest.

And with that triple play, your side wins, with all four players still in.

There’s no whistle to end the game, as Hoseok’s mouth falls open, gawking wide-eyed at you. “She’s a sniper,” he whispers in an awed voice. Everyone turns to stare at you.

“What?” you ask, looking around. “What did I do now?”

According to Jimin, it’s tradition for the dodgeball teams to go out for drinks after practices and matches, so after hitting the locker room, the nine of you meet up at the Pied Piper, a quiet bar around the corner from the rec center. Thank god Taehyung convinced you to bring a change of clothes. You’d foolishly assumed you wouldn’t break a sweat, but you sure as fuck had.

Since the rec center isn’t that big, the practice schedules are staggered out, with only two other teams meeting on Wednesday nights - the Dodging Divas and Rock the Balls. By the time your team arrives at the bar, the others have already claimed most of the tables. As Taehyung and the others push the remaining tables together, Hoseok, Seokjin, and you sidle up to the bar to start ordering drinks.

Once the bartender drifts away to start pulling drafts, Hoseok turns to you with a bright smile. “Congrats, the two of you are definitely going to be starters.”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement.

“Me? Really?” you squeak, glancing at Seokjin, who also appears dumbfounded. “Why?”

Hoseok leans against the bartop. “Look, I’ve been playing this game for long enough to know a strong arm when I see it,” he declares solemnly, tapping your bicep with two fingers. “I think with my help, you could be one of the best snipers out there. As for you,” he nods at Seokjin, “I think your flexibility is going to come in handy, like it does for Jimin. Also, I saw the way you two were working together on the court. If we can hone your skills, you’ll be an unstoppable duo for sure.” He grins. “The rest of the league won’t know what hit them, when the Seven Slamurai come through.”

The bartender returns with the first three beers of your order, and Hoseok carries them away with another nod, leaving you and Seokjin staring at each other in silence.

Then you both burst into laughter.

“Is he for real?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows raised. The bartender sets more glasses in front of you, and he grabs one, taking a long sip.

“I think so. I got the idea from Jimin that dodgeball means a lot to him, but wow. What he said is absolutely ridiculous, and yet… I do feel oddly inspired.”

“I know what you mean.” Seokjin grins. “Should we correct him, though?”

“About what?”

“Us working as a team. We weren’t working together so much as you were hiding behind me.”

His grin turns teasing, and a retort builds itself on your tongue. But before you can fire it off, a figure at the other end of the bar catches your eye. One of the Rock the Balls gods. Namjoon, maybe? He nods at you, dimple popping as his lips curl into a slight smirk. You blink, then raise one of the glasses of beer in his direction.

Seokjin follows your gaze. “Friend of yours?”

“Not really. One of the other teams’ leaders. We met at the sign up.”

Seokjin hums, giving Namjoon a second look. He taps the bartop while you help yourself to one of the pints. “Hey, so what you were talking about at dinner the other night… about Yoongi? I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known the subject would come back up. With a little shrug, you attempt a grin, but only succeed in a grimace. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I know. But I’ve also been where you are, having feelings for someone that go unreciprocated, so… I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” He pauses, gaze locked on the glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue there,” you quip, letting out an airy laugh. "But I'm the one who imagined the whole thing, so really, I'm not any smarter."

He looks at you then, a sober expression on his face. “I mean it. He’s the idiot. Not you. So just - just don’t let his stupidity have any bearing on how you might think about yourself, okay?”

You blink, wondering if you’ve suddenly gone completely transparent, because he’s seeing right through you. How are you not supposed to take Yoongi’s rejection as proof that you’re unlovable? If you were lovable, then wouldn’t he love you?

“I… okay.” Nodding, you reach for the glasses that have been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. “Um. We should probably get these to the rest of the team before they get antsy.”

Taehyung pats the seat next to him when you return to the group, and Seokjin takes the empty seat on your other side. “Hoseok just told us the good news,” he informs you, happily grabbing one of the beers in your hand.

“What, that Jinnie and I are gonna be starters?”

“That we are gonna be starters! You, me, hyung, Jimin-ah, and Hoseok-ssi.” Taehyung beams brightly as Jimin leans across him at the mention of his name. “He said we’ll work on our teamwork next practice, so we’re ready for our first match next weekend!”

“Oh! Well, damn, look at us go!” You lift your glass and everyone else does the same. “Cheers!”

“To teamwork!” Seokjin adds, eyes crinkling as he clinks his glass against yours. You grin back before taking a big sip. Maybe you’ll survive this season after all.

You’re not going to survive this season.

“Come on! Faster!”

A shrill whistle blast sounds as you hit the wall, spinning around before running back towards the center line. It’s Thursday night, so you’re at practice again. Your team has been running drills for only ten minutes now, but you’re pretty sure you’re going to die, panting terribly as your toe hits the crosses the line.

“Pick it up!” Hoseok yells as you spin again, heading back for the end of the court. As your fingertips reach the wall, he blows the whistle again, and you flatten your palms, pressing your forehead against the cold cement.

“I did not sign up for this,” Seokjin huffs next to you. “I signed up to dodge balls. This is not dodging balls!”

“Are you two okay?” Taehyung is neither panting nor huffing as he eyes you both with concern.

“How are you not dying like us?! You don’t work out!” Yelling takes up too much of your oxygen, and you sink to the ground, legs folding underneath you.

Taehyung shrugs. “It was only a few running drills. Nothing to get worked up over.”

Unable to respond, you settle for giving him the evil eye. You jump as Hoseok’s whistle sounds again.

“If he doesn’t stop it with that thing, I’m gonna make him eat it,” you mutter under your breath. Seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he reaches out a hand to pull you to your feet.

Hoseok’s inner drill instructor doesn’t take a break when the practice game starts, alternates on one side, starters on the other. Somehow, he manages to run, catch, throw, and yell instructions the entire time, like a demented multihyphenate. It would be impressive if it weren’t irritating.

You play a total of three rounds against the alternates. The first round is awkward, filled mostly with Hoseok’s manic shouting. At one point, he tells you to cover the right and Taehyung to flank the left, and as the two of you run to switch sides, you run smack into each other. The alternates win.

In the second round, things go better. There are no collisions, but there’s also not much cohesion, either. You try to repeat last practice’s winning move, ducking behind Seokjin, but he’s too unpredictable, jumping all over the place to try to catch throws, and you’re not able to keep from getting hit. Your team loses again.

When the whistle signals the end of the round, you head for the bleachers, where you’ve stashed a bottle of water and a towel, having realized last practice that both items were desperately needed. The rest of your team follows.

“Well, this isn’t working,” Hoseok sighs, fanning himself with his shirt. “They’re kicking our asses.”

“Maybe - and just hear me out - yelling isn’t the way to motivate us?” Jimin suggests, tossing his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. You can practically see little hearts dancing in Taehyung’s eyes as he watches the motion.

Hoseok’s head twists towards his friend, but instead of swearing at him like you expect, he just stares. “I’m. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

Jimin claps him lightly on the shoulder. “Yep.”

Hoseok stares for a few more seconds, and you’re on the verge of asking if he’s okay when he finally speaks. “Okay, new plan. Let’s just go out there and, ugh, have fun, okay?” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he leads Jimin and Taehyung back out onto the court.

Seokjin leans over. “If we lose, ten bucks says he snaps and eats that whistle himself.”

You laugh, gently pushing Seokjin back onto the court.

“Hey. Should we try that shield thing again?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean, I was trying last round, but you were kinda all over the place.”

“I’ll try to be more obvious with my moves. Or I guess you can guide me? Just tell me which way to go.”

You nod, and then you’re off, running for the center line as the round starts. Without Hoseok barking orders at the group, there’s a definite shift in the atmosphere. As you stoop to sweep up a ball, quickly diving behind Seokjin’s tall frame, scoping out your next target, it hits you - not a ball, but a thought.

You’re having fun.

Grinning wildly, you hiss “Left!” Seokjin immediately darts left, and you line up behind him, ready and waiting. A throw from the other team goes high, and Seokjin leaps towards it, snagging the ball out of the air. As soon as you peek out from around his side, you hit Wooshik, ball bouncing off his thigh with a satisfyingly loud “thock!”

“Yes!” Seokjin throws his hand out for a high five. You slap it quickly, ducking another toss. On your other side, Hoseok and Jimin make tandem catches, and the match ends with your team victorious.

“That was so much better! I really feel like we’re an actual team now,” Hoseok beams, looking genuinely happy again. “One more week of practice and then it’s match time!”

The others drift towards the locker rooms as Seokjin nudges you with his hip. “Did that work better for you this time?”

“Yeah, it did. I guess that’s how it should always work, huh - me giving you orders and you following them blindly?” You wrap your towel around your neck, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Seokjin laughs, running his hand through his fluffy hair, which has gotten curly in the humidity from the game. Rather than spout off a snarky retort, he tugs on the ends of your towel, pulling you towards him. His deep brown eyes trail over your face, landing on your mouth, before his gaze snaps back to yours.

“That works for me,” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his plush lips. “Just say the word and I’ll follow.”

And then he walks away.

You stare at the locker room doorway that he disappears into for a good minute after he’s gone, mind racing. That’s not the first time the two of you have been that close - both Seokjin and his brother are very cuddly people, and you’ve always been comfortable with showing them affection in the form of warm hugs or snuggles on the couch.

But whatever just happened was not that. The moment between you felt charged. Full of something like… possibility.

With a sigh, you shake off the confusing thoughts and gather your things to head for the locker room, desperately needing a shower. And a drink.

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mortwig · 1 year

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Sparks Fly

Entry for the amazing’s @withahappyrefrain “Dicked Down December”. Written for the loveliest and kindest person ever born: @ouralcohol

18+ EXPLICIT [minors DNI] - Peter Parker fanfic

Words: 5,2k

Pairing: fem!reader* x Peter Parker (based on TASM!Peter but flexible)

Summary: Friends/Co-workers to Lovers, Christmas vibes

Tags: 18+ explicit, strangers to work besties to lovers, so much fluff, smut (only in the Epilogue though), nudity, vaginal sex, oral sex (both F receiving), all characters are 18+.

Song inspo: Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

Moodboard: here

“I hadn’t realised we needed a new PE teacher?” you mentioned casually, while taking a bite of your sandwich. You and your work bestie, Kayla, were sitting under the shade of some trees, hiding from the hot late summer sun. Children were running around playing tag, sometimes even using you as cover.

Kayla looked up quickly, mild panic on her face. The principal was with a tall, dark-haired man, pointing to the different facilities from the other end of the playground. “Tan pronto?” she whispered under her breath.

You looked at her quizzingly. Kayla always wore her heart on her sleeve. She was never good at hiding emotions, and right now was no exception. She took a deep breath and, looking down at her shoes, said:

“I’ve been offered to be vice-principal in a different school… And I’ve said yes. I guess that guy must be my replacement.”

“Kayla, that is amazing! Enhorabuena!” You went to hug her, but she turned, tears welling up in her eyes.

“The job is in Florida.”

Your face dropped, and your arms did too, now hanging uselessly at your sides. The tears were also making an appearance on your face.

“I’m sorry.” She managed before the sobs overtook her.

You looked at her for a long moment before pulling her into a hug.

“I’m not. You’ve needed a change for a long time and this sounds like an amazing opportunity. I’m proud of you for taking this step. And I’ll be visiting. Often. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

It turned out that Kayla’s replacement as a science teacher was a guy from New York called Peter Parker. Rumour had it he was running away from something, or someone, back home. But when you asked, he just gave a vague response about him “also needing a change”. You didn’t press any further. After all, we all have our demons.

He caught on pretty quickly to the bond you and Kayla had, and it was as though he could feel your pain. Every time you felt the sadness creeping in, he would pop by with a question about school protocols or class locations.

Some petty part of you wanted to dislike him. He would never replace Kayla. He was just some guy. And the truth was, he didn’t replace her. But instead, he filled a void you didn’t know you had. You and Kayla had bonded over good food, Top Gun, and fanfiction of some superhero or other. You’d cook and then be lazy together, laughing and fawning over hot fictional guys and celebrities. Peter was different, he was intent on learning Spanish and he convinced you to go on runs together so he could practice his pronunciation. After endless conversations about anything ranging from soccer to Taylor Swift lyrics, by Thanksgiving you were essentially inseparable.

“Listen up, team! This year, it’s the music department’s turn to organize the staff Christmas party.”

You saw at least four people near you stifle a disappointed groan. The music department was composed of three very extra teachers who were known for the most extravagant ideas and an obsession with glitter for some reason. You wondered if they’d magically found each other or if joining the group implied a transformation into whatever they had going on.

Diana, the oldest of the three, stepped up, hands clasped in an effort to hide her excitement.

“We have a very special evening prepared for all of you. Unfortunately, the PE department wasn’t okay with us using the gym because, I quote ‘it’s a bitch to clean up, and you’ll be too hangover to do it’. So we’ve had to move the location to the old Victorian house at the end of the road that turns out is owned by Michael’s great aunt and which has been recently renovated in an effort to rent it out to tourists next summer.”

Diana’s gossiping and oversharing was nothing new, and most of the staff were only half listening by this point.

“The theme is Christmas fairytale. You must adhere to the theme. If you do not, you will be banned from the bar area. You have been warned.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “They did it. They figured out how to get people to put in some effort. Threaten them with an alcohol-free Christmas party.”

Peter giggled under his breath next to you. It didn’t matter how many times you heard that stupid laugh of his, it still made your heart skip a beat. It was like hearing a song you loved as a child that you’d forgotten about. Like the gasp of excitement at the arrivals lounge of an airport on the 24th of December, when someone sees that person they’ve been missing for ages. Like the pop of a champagne cork celebrating a long-awaited pregnancy over Christmas dinner. Like the crinkle of wrapping paper around a perfectly chosen present. It was a simple sound, but it filled you with pure, soul-warming joy.

You didn’t dare look his way though, because he might notice a slight red tinge to your cheeks, a vague indication of a simmering feeling trying to find its way out of your chest, one way or another.

“Kayla, I don’t want to go…”

“You’ve said that seven times in the last hour. I’ve been counting.” Kayla had her phone up by her stove and was making something that, you assumed, smelled as delicious as it looked. Her hands were on her hips, in a proper scolding teacher pose.

“But it’s true…” You pouted, sitting back on the mattress. The numerous layers of fabric of the dress you were trying on covered most of the bed.

“What exactly is the problem? We’ve already decided that the dress is beautiful and on theme, you’ll get enough alcohol to endure Sarah’s incessant bickering, you can watch Jerry make a fool of himself on the dancefloor after four tequilas, and most importantly: you can collect intel on all the new flings that form under the glittery mistletoe that these guys have undoubtedly hung in every dark corner.”

“But it won’t be any fun without you…”

“You have a new friend now!”

“He’s no you.”

“No, he’s way hotter.” Kayla raised her eyebrows and smirked at you through the phone screen.

“Shut up.” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Why not though?”

“Because… I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Come on… You’ve ‘not been looking for anything’ for years now. Isn’t it time to have some fun? Or at the very least, some drama to entertain your best friend?”

“You’re the worst. Peter and I are on track to become good friends. If I lose him over a silly infatuation, I’ll be even lonelier without either of you. Not worth it.”

“HA! I knew it! I knew you liked him.”

You instantly regretted your wording, but there was no time to discuss it further. The doorbell rang and with a quick “Gotta go, bye!” the call was over and you were clumsily slipping out of the dress.

“Coming!!” you shouted as you slipped on an oversized hoodie. Hopefully it was the delivery guy with that cute light-up Christmas jumper you’d ordered two weeks ago.

But when you opened the door, Peter was standing there, looking absolutely dashing. Because the truth was, what you told Kayla was a “silly infatuation” was in fact a full-on raging crush. And it had been going on for weeks now.

The way you thought about him switched in your brain right after Thanksgiving. You had a very bad brain day. You didn’t mean for things to escalate, and you certainly didn’t mean to cry in front of him, but all the emotions you had been bottling up exploded and all sorts of negative thoughts appeared all at once.

And he’d said nothing, because there was nothing to be said. You didn’t want to hear another “it’ll be okay” or another “it’ll pass”, and he didn’t say those words. Instead, he hugged you and held you for a minute, five, half an hour, forty-five minutes. While you just cried and cried and cried. And then when you stopped sobbing, he took your hand, took you to the nice bar down the road, bought you a smoothie and told you about the movies that he and his aunt May and uncle Ben used to watch every single Christmas.

Since then, every one of his smiles held a different meaning and every one of his light touches to your arm stung like an electrical discharge. And while you knew nothing could happen -should happen- between you, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining a life with him, your mind racing with images of picket fences and golden retrievers and children running around the living room.

“Hello…” Peter was still standing in front of you, his eyes wide in both confusion and worry. How long had you been standing there, staring into the void, thinking about how in love you were?

“Peter!” You blurted out.

“That’s me…”

You continued to stare blankly at him, your brain refusing to cooperate as your heart raced at the sight of his unruly hair sticking out in twenty different directions.

“I’m not one to judge anyone’s fashion sense, but I have to say I’m surprised that you chose the mustard stain look to go to Taylor Swift karaoke.”

“Wasn’t that Thursday?”

“Darling, today’s Thursday…” If your brain was short-circuiting before, his use of the endearing term sent it into overdrive and you felt light-headed for a second. You recovered quickly though, you’d had enough breakdowns in front of him for what was left of the year.

“Fuck.”

Despite the facts finally falling into place in your brain, you still didn’t move. So, Peter gently placed his hands on your shoulders and moved you to the side, stepping into your hall.

“You go get changed, I’ll grab the tickets. Where can I find them?”

“Yes, right, sorry.” You shook your head, coming back to Earth. “I think they’re stuck to the fridge. Otherwise… Somewhere on the counter, I guess. I’m sure you’ll find them eventually.”

You ran upstairs to your bedroom, your ballgown still covering most of your floor space. You didn’t really have the time to curate an outfit so you took the most basic black dress and the first pair of nice shoes you could find. It hadn’t even been ten minutes and you were back by the front door, keys in hand, coat on.

“Okay, I’m ready. Sorry about that.”

“You have a very messy place.”

“Not usually, I don’t… It’s just been a messy few weeks.” Messy in your head, you meant. Because it had been a long time since your heart had been in such a fit of emotion that it neglected all responsibilities. Like the night before, when you’d ignored the pile of dirty dishes and instead opened a bottle of wine and wrote self-indulging friends-to-lovers fanfiction that was definitely not a vivid daydream of Peter and you.

“I like your wall art, by the way…” You felt him looking at you from the corner of his eye as you locked the door and headed towards your car. “Spiders, huh…?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, spiders…”

“What’s so funny about spiders?” Did he sound almost… offended?

“Nothing actually. I used to be very scared of them. I sometimes am, still. But that wall art is part of my journey of getting over my fears, and it’s also a reminder of what I’m capable of if I get my mind to it.”

You glanced his way. He looked equal parts confused and in awe.

“Sorry, that was way too deep.” You cleared your throat, suddenly a bit overwhelmed and ashamed of your oversharing. “What do you want to sing first? I say we start with a classic, something from Speak Now maybe?”

Peter was still just staring at you. He didn’t laugh though, he didn’t even look uncomfortable. He seemed just… curious. After what seemed like an eternity in your over-thinking brain, he finally spoke slowly:

“Perhaps ‘Sparks Fly’.” He didn’t take his eyes off your face, studying you, your reaction, the way your eyes widened ever so slightly before you could put on your best neutral expression.

“A bop. Sounds good.”

You tossed and turned in bed, running through the events of the evening in your mind. Aside from the rocky start, it had been generally uneventful. Or so you tried to tell yourself. Because really, was there much to pinpoint that would make it different from any other meet-up with friends? There had been his hand gently touching your waist on your way into the bar. How he twirled you on your way to get a drink because someone was singing Lover. How he’d made his way to the bartender and winked at you when he got your order right within the first guess. And a million other tiny things. But above all, more than every other little gesture of kindness and every other possible indication of flirting, there had been Sparks Fly. How he’d held your hands throughout the chorus, and how he’d stared deep into your eyes and ran your hands through your hair at the start of the bridge. You’d expected him to laugh it off, to say he was just joking. Anything, any indication that there was not something weird going on between you. But he hadn’t. And now you were left wondering if maybe it was reciprocal. If he also felt the butterflies, the tension, the tug at his heart to kiss you when he leaned in to help you open your front door that always gets a bit stuck in the evenings. He said nothing. You said nothing. And you supposed life went on, same same but different.

As usual, you’d miscalculated how much time you would need to get ready and you were running late. You still had to do hair and make-up and you were supposed to meet Peter in ten minutes. You sighed heavily as you sat down in front of your mirror, phone in hand.

> Running late

> I’ll meet you there

> You sure?

> I don’t mind waiting

> Yeah sure

> You’ll just stress me out

> I would never

You giggled at the glassy-eyed cat sticker on your screen.

You hated – hated – getting to events alone. It was so awkward. Even if you knew everyone there, and you got along well with most of them. That feeling of having to find a conversation to engage in, those first few minutes. They were awful.

The hall was empty when you arrived so you sneaked a selfie in the huge vintage mirror that decorated one of the walls. You sent it to Kayla. After all, the outfit had been chosen with her. You were wearing a huge puffy white and ice-blue dress that shimmered magically under the light. A delicate mistletoe wreath on your head and some angel wings completed the look. “A Christmas angel-fairy”, Kayla called it.

You followed the noise to what must have been the dining room, but which had been turned into a ballroom. You gasped at how magical it looked. The renovated ceiling had been decorated with thousands of tiny lights that gave the room a warm glow and made everything look ethereal. The heavy red velvet courtains were drawn, and two fireplaces were lit. Christmas trees stood in every corner, decorated with classic red ornaments and gold tinsel. A bar had been set up at the end of the room, by a band that was playing a cover of Ayo Technology. They had several big bowls full of smoking drinks, and a guy dressed as an elf was mixing drinks for a very happy-looking admin team.

You looked around for Peter, in hopes of going straight to talk to him instead of having to engage in small talk with colleagues you weren’t nearly drunk enough to deal with. It might have worked, had he not been standing at the opposite end of the room. He was wearing black suit and trousers, a flowery midnight blue vest and a beautiful matching cape that brushed the floor with his every move. And… was that an eye patch? What even was that costume?

It took you close to half an hour to make your way to him, which included, amongst others: four compliments on your dress, one joke about the mistletoe on your head by Olivia from admin, and several questions about how Kayla was doing in Florida.

“What is that supposed to be? Santa’s ocean affairs delegate, pirate Parker?”

Peter scoffed, and even before he turned, he already shot back:

“Excuse you, you uncultured ignorant. I’m uncle Drosselmeyer from the Nutcracker. And this cape took a week to make, so be nice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. He’d never mentioned an interest in ballet, let alone in sewing.

When he finally took a look at you, he let out a low whistle. “Damn, you look stunning.” He took your hand and twirled you slowly, admiring the outfit from all angles. “I didn’t know you vibed with long gowns and angelical accessories.” His cheeks were slightly redder than usual, and you couldn’t tell if he’d already had a couple of drinks or if he was somewhat flustered.

“It seems we still have a lot of things to learn about each other.” You muttered under your breath.

You really thought you’d said it quietly. The room was loud enough that you had to speak up to hear and be heard. Yet Peter leaned in closer, your cheeks almost touching, and whispered just loud enough that you almost weren’t sure if it had been your imagination:

“I can’t wait.”

You took a step back in surprise, but he’d already turned to one of the arts and crafts teachers to compliment her elaborate hairdo with little golden bells sticking out of it. People really went all out when alcohol was on the line. You were no exception. You headed right to the bar.

You danced, you talked, you drank, you laughed. You even cried once in the bathroom after you saw Kayla’s supportive messages in response to your picture from earlier.

It was almost midnight and you were positively drunk. The kind of happy drunk that gives you just a little too much confidence and a lot of courage. So when the band’s guitar player started playing the first few notes of Love Story, you ran to Peter so you could sing it together at the top of your lungs.

His eyepatch long gone and his hair messier than ever, you could tell he was also drunk. His casual touches were becoming more frequent. His eyes lingered in yours for longer. His smile was cheekier. His whispers more intimate. And, in your inebriation, you felt that spark between you stronger than ever. As if you could almost see it if you focused on the narrowing space between you.

It still came as a surprise when the band got to the outro and he put both his hands on your waist and pulled you close.

“Let’s go outside for a minute.”

He must have been exploring the house earlier because, instead of taking you out through the front door, he led you upstairs through the beautiful staircase in the hall, his hand firmly around yours. You looked around dreamily, your eyes hazy. Whatever the music department had done with the party, you had to give them that it truly felt like a Christmas fairytale. Through a few doors, you were out on a balcony, overlooking the backyard of the house which was also decorated and lit with a range of Christmas decorations.

You stood there, looking out at the beautiful scenery around you. For a minute, you forgot you were there with Peter, you were just drunk and happy and content.

But then Peter let go of your hand. And, as if he was the anchor keeping you from slipping out of your daydream, you looked back at him, concern drawn on your features. Your heart started beating, it felt loud enough that if Peter started talking, you weren’t sure you’d hear him.

“Y/N…”

He searched your face for something, but you were too scared to say anything.

“Listen, I’ll probably regret this when I wake up sober and hungover tomorrow morning…” His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat, maybe trying to gather enough courage to carry on. “I… I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth agape in shock. You couldn’t form a single word, let alone a full sentence. Seeing how you had been left speechless, Peter continued, trying to fix whatever might have been broken with those few words.

“But I promise I won’t let it affect our friendship. I have a lot of fun with you, I don’t want to lose the best friend I’ve made in years.”

You continued to stare at him, your mind racing but your tongue tied. Ten seconds passed, twenty, maybe thirty, and you said nothing. It must have looked terrible from his perspective. But you couldn’t work out what to say, you were frozen in place.

“I’m so sorry.” He turned and walked back inside, while your hand covered your mouth and you tried to work out what to do. Would you risk the friendship you felt in your bones could be one of the most important ones in your life? Would you risk the awkwardness at work if it didn’t work out? Would you, for a relationship life you always claimed you didn’t want? You already knew what your heart would respond to all those questions: yes, yes, yes. You searched your reason, your cold, calculating brain, for a different answer. But again: yes, yes, yes. How could you not?

Your heels were comfortable but it was still a struggle to run with the voluminous dress.

“Peter wait!” You yelled when you got to the top of the staircase. He was almost downstairs, his cape flowing behind him with every step he took. “I’m sorry!”

He looked back, caution written all over his face.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated as you rushed down. “I don’t want to lose you either, but…” panic replaced every emotion that was rushing through your veins, as you felt one of the silky underlayers of the dress get caught under your toes. In slow motion, you realized Peter was too far down to catch you, but at least you wouldn’t take him down with you. Your wreath went flying off your head as you braced yourself for impact. But the crash against the cold steps never came, only two warm arms holding you firmly.

“But what?”

You looked around in shock, trying to work out how he’d made it up half the staircase in less than a second. “How…?”

“But what?” he insisted, interrupting you. You looked back at him.

“But I’ll risk it all.” You inhaled deeply. “Because I think I’m in love with you too.”

Peter’s relief was obvious, from the way his body relaxed noticeably, and from the smile he flashed at you. He helped you upright so you could gather yourself. You were checking the damage to your dress, partly hiding from the sudden elephant in the room, partly to make sure you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself again.

Once it was obvious you were stalling, Peter cleared his throat. When you looked up, he had an eyebrow raised, and gently nodded up. Hanging about a feet over your heads was your mistletoe wreath. It seemed to be floating mid air but upon closer inspection you realized it was dangling from what seemed to be a spider web.

“How…?” again, it was all you could think to say. But this time, Peter wasn’t so patient. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you in for a kiss.

EPILOGUE

There hadn’t been much time, Peter left to spend Christmas with his Aunt May in New York. You would also be visiting family.

As for New Year’s… Let’s just say things had worked out nicely and Peter was now running his hands through your hair and kissing your neck and up towards the back of your ear. And oh if he didn’t stop whispering sweet nothings against your skin, you were certain you would melt into goo and dissolve right there on the sofa.

“You are absolutely stunning.”

“Mmh…” You hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence in the last ten minutes. You just hummed and whimpered while your body reacted to what you could have sworn was electricity passing to and from between the two of you.

Peter reached further down, caressing your back and waist tentatively. He was taking his sweet time and, as much as adored it, you felt a need building up in your core that needed to be met, and it needed to be met soon.

“Let’s move to the bed.” As much of a people pleaser as you usually were, the suggestion came out as a demand, firm and confident. In return, Peter didn’t hesitate, he simply looked into your eyes and picked you up bridal style.

You were impressed by how easily he carried you up the stairs, reminding you that you still hadn’t worked out how he’d managed the sprint up the stairs at the party. But that was a conversation for another moment because Peter was putting you down on the bed and seeking confirmation in your eye as his fingers trailed circles on your thighs. You nodded and he proceeded to run his hands up under your skirt, pulling down the hem of your tights. His hands ran back up your legs to pull your panties to the side. His fingers ran up and down the inside of your thighs as his lips met your clit, giving it a soft kiss before licking up and down and getting to work.

You lost track of time, and you were pretty sure you ascended to an alternate reality at some point, and were only brought back by the tightening coil in your abdomen. Peter switched perfectly between licking, sucking, kneading your thighs and humming against you in satisfaction. It was as if he could hear your heartbeat accelerate and relax with every wave of pleasure, giving him privileged information as to how to act at every precise moment.

But it was only after he put in his index finger inside you that you felt the orgasm incoming.

“Oh, fuck, Peter.”

You felt him smile cheekily against your clit, and you wanted to smack his head. You probably would have if he hadn’t been in charge of your pleasure at the time.

A second finger quickly followed, hitting your G spot at just the right time while your clit remained at his tongue’s mercy.

“Peter!” you whimpered, your right hand gripping his messy hair, while your left hand held onto the sheets for dear life. Your moans filled the room as you rode your high, his fingers maintaining a constant speed throughout your orgasm.

You were panting, still trying to catch your breath, as Peter undid his shirt buttons and helped you out of your dress.

“I cannot stress this enough; you are gorgeous.”

You peeked through your half-closed eyelids only to find him standing there, admiring your body.

“Beautiful enough to make love to?” Peter’s eyes went dark with desire at the question and you smirked at him.

The remaining clothes that still clung to your bodies were quickly removed and discarded. Peter kneeled between your legs, his hands combing his hair back. He was hard and leaking precum already. The awareness of him being this aroused just from making out with you and eating you out hit you like a train and you spread your legs wider for him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“So ready.” You winked at him and his cheeks turned just a tiny bit redder.

He didn’t rush it, he took his time, letting you adjust to his size. He only started pumping once you nodded at him. Slow, long strokes had you whimpering and squirming as you hid your head in the pillow, self-conscious of all the noises you were making.

“Hey, look at me. Those sounds you’re making are the hottest thing I’ve ever heard but I want to see you too.”

You were flustered, it was as if he could read your mind. But you made an effort and kept looking at him. And oh, was it worth it. He sped up his pace and lowered himself down to his elbows, close enough to kiss you and for you to grab his hair again. God, he had such amazing hair. He was panting, he seemed to be struggling.

“Tired, Parker?” You giggled in his ear.

“No, not at all. I’m just trying very hard not to cum because it would be embarrassing to last literally five minutes and also I want to make you cum at least once more.”

You were taken aback by this display of honesty. You had to admit you’d never been with any straight guy who felt so comfortable admitting stuff like that.

“I can help with that.”

You pushed him back a little, just enough that you could reach into your nightstand drawer and squirt some lube onto your hand.

Peter wasn’t moving, just looking at you in fascination. You reached between your bodies and circled your clit just like you did when you were alone. When your first moan hit his ears, Peter was brought back to Earth and he started pumping into you again. Tentatively at first, but deeper and faster as he gauged your positive reactions.

“I’m so close”, is what you said, but it took you so much effort to string the sentence together that when it came out, you were actually extremely close. So close that the next thrust from Peter’s hips sent you into orbit and you could do nothing but clench around him and hold his arms as if they were your anchors. You were just riding the last few waves of pleasure when you felt his consistent rhythm failing and his face contort. He soon crashed on top of you, both of you panting, completely blissed out.

A sound coming from the outside caught your attention before you could fully relax into each other. You frowned.

“Are those fireworks?” Peter asked. You turned towards your window and, sure enough, you could see colourful lights through the thin courtains.

“It looks like it.” You responded.

“I would have sworn it was 10 pm just ten minutes ago.” He sounded positively confused. You couldn’t help but laugh, one of those laughs that come from the belly, that makes you feel like a child again. And it must have been contagious because Peter started shaking on top of you, laughing quietly into the pillow next to you.

“Happy New Year, Peter.”

“Happy New Year, darling.”

Shout-out to @p3mybeloved for her cameo as Y/N’s best friend ❤️

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker x f!reader #dicked down december

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yuurei20 · 1 year

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Deuce Info Compilation Part 1: Deuce's Mom

Deuce first references his mother during Book 1 when it is revealed that he was “the only man of the house”, so he would help her with the heavy lifting that resulted from when she would “stock up” during sales.

Deuce references helping his mother during sales again in his PE vignette, where he uses the skills he learned as a child to help Sebek acquire pudding for Lilia (“I can’t tell you how many times I was barreled down over a single carton of eggs.”)

Deuce reveals that he had been able to shop for Trey and others at the dorm during the chaos of Sam’s sale, and Sebek compliments him as “a gifted human indeed”.

We get the story of Deuce’s past for the first time during Book 1 when he explains that he had been “wild” when he was younger (“yobisute” was changed to “I called my teachers names” as English does not have honorifics)

He says his change of heart was inspired by overhearing his mother crying about “how she must have been a horrible mom, and that maybe she never should have tried to raise me by herself.” Deuce insists on taking responsibility for his past actions, saying “She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all me.” When he was accepted to NRC, he “decided then and there that this time, I wouldn’t do anything to make her cry. This time, I’d become an honor student—someone she could be proud of.”

The topic of his mother arises during Wish Upon a Star, as well, with Deuce saying that he once heard her wish for him to stop fighting and live a healthy life.

Deuce’s mother calls him twice during the Wish Upon a Star event, and the first time leads to a conversation with Silver where he says that his old friends used to make fun of him for being so close to her. Silver says, “It’s only natural you’d want to talk regularly with someone you care about.”

Deuce shares a summarized version of his past with Silver and we learn that, due to his poor reputation, Deuce would get accused of things that he’d had nothing to do with.

He says, “Of course I got a huge attitude when people wouldn’t believe me. Looking back, though, they had every reason not to.” We learn that the only people who ever believed him were his mother and a neighborhood police officer who would always insist on hearing his side of a story and prove that he had an alibi when people tried to frame Deuce for things he hadn’t done.

Deuce says that, “If I could be like that, maybe my mom wouldn’t worry for much”. Deuce explains that this is why he wants to be a police officer when he is older: more specifically, a part of an agency that handles magical crimes, referred to as “magic marshals”.

Deuce’s mother calls him again at the end of Wish Upon a Star to tell him that “Even Night Raven College couldn’t have asked for a finer Stargazer than you” and “You know I’m very proud of you”, which nearly makes Deuce cry. He says, “One of these days, I’m gonna make my mom happy by making an even bigger wish come true.”

Deuce brings up his dream of joining the police force again in his birthday vignette, saying that he he has put most of his effort into “media research”, watching movies and TV and memorizing “intense-looking running styles” and “cool-sounding one-liners to use when making an arrest”.

Deuce mentions his mother often: in the Culinary Crucible he talks about wanting to “learn how to cook good meals for when I’m at home”, saying that his mother would “always cook egg dishes for my birthday” and “now I know what mom means when she says she adds a pinch of love to her cooking”.

We learn that Deuce would help his mother cook as a child. He says that he recently learned that she’d had a cold, but she didn’t let him know until after she had fully recovered. Deuce says “I kinda wish she’d lean on me more when she’s struggling” and “the next time I visit, I want to cook for her and show that I’m more dependable than ever!”

When Crowley and Ortho threaten to expose the students for not going to rescue Idia from Eliza during the Phantom Bride event Deuce’s reaction is “my mom would cry if she saw me on the news like that”.

He also mentions his mother waiting for him during Winter Holidays, something he wants to buy but cannot afford and how he does not want to ask him mom for money, the curry she would make, sending her a picture of his halloween costume, helping her with household appliances and more.

#DeuceFacts #TwstDeuce #TwstFacts #Deuce Spade #twisted wonderland

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brian-in-finance · 5 months

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Photo: Patch Bell

Outlander and Karen Pirie star Lauren Lyle on her self-belief and taking the leap to pursue her dream

Nominated for two awards at the Scottish Baftas this evening, Lauren Lyle promises it will be a celebration no matter the outcome.

The Glasgow actress has grafted hard to enjoy a remarkable rise over recent years, headlined by her first leading role in Karen Pirie, the acclaimed St Andrews-set crime drama based on Val McDermid’s novels.

Next year is set to be the 30-year-old star’s biggest yet, with several leading roles in film and TV, including a second series of Karen Pirie, so now seems like a good time to pause and look back on her career so far.

“I moved to London at 19 and if I’d told myself then that I’d have my own TV show, had done one of the biggest shows in America (Outlander) and would be working all the time, I don’t think I would have believed it,” she smiled.

“I would have thought I’d needed to have done something terrible to have got here, but I just worked really hard. I’m working on a show called Toxic Town for Netflix, which has Rory Kinnear and Jodie Whittaker in it, and I asked both what their secret is. They said they didn’t know, they just keep working, and they’re testament to doing great work and not trying to be famous.

“Rory told me he always wanted to be known for being good, and I’m the same. I’m trying to pick good things and be in quality stuff, things that excite me and getting to work with good people.

“I came to London to audition for drama schools and came close but didn’t get in. I think I’d only been to London once before as a kid but didn’t remember it. I was so hungry for it, and being around other actors in this world was so thrilling and I knew this was what I wanted to do and the place to do it.”

Taking the plunge

Lauren moved into a shared house with four people she hadn’t previously met. She took on several jobs to pay the bills while trying to engineer a break, joining a theatre company and eager to learn.

Photo: Patch Bell

“It was a risk but I put my head down and grafted hard,” she said. “I think I’ve always had deluded confidence that I can do something. My mum is a school PE teacher and I was a gymnast and runner and I’ve always been competitive to win the race, but that’s not helpful at times because there isn’t a finishing line or right answer here; there’s lots of different ways to do this, so I’ve had to put those feelings aside at times.

“I had a big agent for about a year before I got a job, and then two came within two or three weeks of each other – Outlander and Broke, with Sean Bean – and my life changed. I did my tax return for that year and realised I’d done about six jobs – dog walker, flyering, receptionist, in Zara’s stock room for 18 months. Random stuff that I did for ages.

“It was bleak at times but I loved going to the theatre and seeing this life dangled in front of me. It was quite inspiring.”

Karen Pirie

Lauren’s recurring role as Marsali in Outlander was her break, while BBC thriller Vigil, where she played activist Jade, introduced her to a different audience. When Karen Pirie came along last year, she felt ready.

“I’m so proud to be part of the show. It was so well made, beautifully shot, and with a crew who were hungry to be there. It was my first lead and I had creative control around what she looked like and who she was,” Lauren explained.

“The director, Gareth Bryn, writer Emer Kenny – who also executive produced – and myself were constantly in conversation. We all had such a brilliant time, and it was a story that meant something and said something of young women.

“It was about a young woman trying to solve a crime about another young woman, so Karen knew what it’s like to be afraid to walk home alone at night, and how a young person can be underestimated in the workplace and how difficult it can be to prove themselves.”

Photo: ITV

Based on Val McDermid’s novel The Distant Echo – about the cold case investigation of a 19-year-old woman’s death which is reopened and given to DS Karen Pirie after a podcast cast doubt on the original investigation – it was a Sunday night hit for ITV last year.

“Val has been complimentary and incredibly supportive of me,” Lauren continued. “She had to sign off on me playing the character. I was worried if she would be happy with the Methil accent. She visited the set and I prepared myself, but she said I was very good.

“She messaged me on Twitter when the awards nominations were announced and congratulated me and said we would need to go for a drink. I’d love to have a drink with her – I’m sure she would have some great stories!”

Scottish Baftas

The drink will be flowing this evening at the Scottish Baftas in Glasgow where, in addition to Lauren’s two nominations, Karen Pirie is also in the fiction director and scripted television categories.

“The show came out too late for the 2022 awards, but it’s nice that we’ve since announced a second series. We have a big Karen Pirie table. My parents are coming – my dad has a new velvet jacket to go with his tartan troos – as is my boyfriend, who is South-African-Australian, but we’ve recently discovered he has lots of Scottish heritage, so he might wear a kilt, and my agent will be there, too.

“Everyone is dead excited and the whole team is there to celebrate.”

Lauren’s nomination in the Audience Award category sees her vying with Brian Cox, Lewis Capaldi, Tony Curran, Hamza Yassin and Meryl Williams.

“To be in a category with Brian, Lewis and the legend that is Meryl from The Traitors, I feel that’s the only time in my life this will happen. I’m tempted to say to Brian that if he ever needs me to play his granddaughter or daughter, I’m here. Someone should cast us all as a family.”

New projects

With a second series of Karen Pirie expected to start shooting early next year and a rumoured return for the final series of Outlander – “we may be talking, who knows” is all Lauren will say – 2024 will be another busy one for her.

She will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden.

Photo: Robert Wilson / Starz

“We filmed Something In The Water in the Dominican Republic. It’s like Bridesmaids but a thriller. The Outrun was filmed on Orkney. Saoirse and Jack saw me in Vigil and asked if I’d be part of this film, which is the first from their production company.

“I had to get the Orkney accent just right. At the first read-through, Amy Liptrot, the writer of the book it’s based on, said it needed to be a bit less Shetland and a bit more Orkney, so I went away and made sure it was right.

“Everyone was so welcoming on Orkney. The beaches were ridiculous. I was stung by a weever fish, which apparently is an unusual thing to happen. My foot was on fire for a day.

“I’ve also been making Toxic Town, a new series for Netflix which is about the Corby poisonings, one of the UK’s biggest environmental scandals, which no-one really knows about. It’s about mothers in a David vs Goliath battle for justice, and I’m wearing lots of ‘90s and ‘00s power suits.

“As well as Jodie and Rory, it has people like Aimee Lou Wood from Sex Education, Joe Dempsie from Skins, Claudia Jessie from Bridgerton, Michael Socha from This Is England, and Robert Carlyle, who is the nicest man in the world.”

Shooting in Scotland

Despite living in London, Lauren finds many of her jobs are being shot in Scotland, which she’s happy to see.

“Nowhere looks like Scotland and a lot of productions are coming here for that reason,” she added. “It’s really cool to see it happening and it’s a testament to the quality of workers you get here.

“Plus, it gives me a free trip home to see my family.”

Photo: Stuart Wallace / Shutterstock

At last year’s Scottish Baftas, Dunkirk and The Gold actor Jack Lowden spoke glowingly about Lauren Lyle.

The pair have since become friends and colleagues, and Lauren is keen to support new talent coming through in Scotland just as Jack did with her.

Speaking about this evening’s Scottish Baftas, Lauren said: “Me and Jack were talking about how great it is to get a lot of Scots in a room to congratulate each other, all these people doing well from this proud place, on international stages representing our country, heritage and culture, which we’re so proud of.

“It’s a great opportunity to shake everyone’s hands and say ‘aren’t we an amazing team?’

“I want to know who the other young people are. We’d like to be able to speak to the younger Scottish actors and welcome them in. Jack did that with me – talking about me, being supportive and asking me to be part of his film. I don’t know if we’d met at the point he spoke about me at the Scottish Baftas. I was very flattered.

“He and Saoirse have been really cool and supportive, and I hope to do the same at some point. With season two of Karen Pirie coming, I message its writer, Emer Kenny, and tell her to keep an eye out for this guy and this girl.”

Remember… she will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden. — The Sunday Post

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #Karen Pirie #The Sunday Post #Digital #17 November 2023

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uneducated-author · 8 months

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I got a present from a student of mine, a beautiful hardcover copy of 'Howl's Moving Caste' and I'm so happy, but it does remind me of what 10 (AND A HALF) year old me did when she found out that it wasn't in my local WHSmith.

Full of rage and vitriol I knocked on the door of every classroom in my school (I was a renowned introvert, so this was EXTREMELY out of character) and politely asked if anyone had a copy. I received Many Many Many rejections. Inconsolable I lay in the library and wept. Then, like a beacon from the dark, the librarian miraculously told me that when I'd asked earlier she was mistaken and 'oh, I think we have it actually! It's just in loan'

I've looked back in this moment with the benefit of hindsight and realised that the librarian, who knew me as the girl who'd hide from bullies in the reading room and spent lunch hours organising books, must have elected to specially order the book for me, and it makes an already sweet moment even sweeter.

But a week later, I was distraught again. The winter holidays were coming up. I would loose access to the only library that had this treasure. I was holding Diana Wynne Jones masterpieces in my hands, despairing against my upcoming tragedy, until it came to me. The perfect solution.

I just had to write the whole book.

'Oh you fool, you could not write three books in a week'

I could sure as hell try.

I was in a frenzy. I would shovel breadsticks into my mouths and fervently write at lunch. I stayed up late and wrote by torchlight.

(Honestly, I probably could have written by lamp, but torchlight felt more dramatic and I lived for the feeling it evoked.)

I wrote in my reading class, permitted because I'd finished the list of books and the assorted quizzes. I wrote in friday PE because the friday teacher never took attendance and nobody cared if a young girl had locked herself in the bathroom for an hour, scribbling away.

I learned how to write with my left hand, but I was too slow if I wanted it to be legible, so I worked through the pain.

So? Did I finish? Was my fervent effort rewarded? Books had to be returned to the library on Thursday so I didn't even have Thurday night. Would the fortnight be enough?

Sort of. I finished my transcription of 'Howl's Moving Castle' and 'Castle in the Air' but couldn't move on to the final book in the trilogy. Hence started my winter vacation. I poured through the story, luxuriating in the rereading. I impressed my mother with my skill in making whipped cream, turns out mixing is much less intensive than furtive writing.

And on Christmas, I opened a beautiful collection of three paperbacks. I reread those books until I could recite swathes from each, and memorised the whole first chapter, which I'd murmur to my younger cousins.

I passed those books down to a younger girl in the neighbourhood, who passed them down to her sister, who gave them to a friend who lost them on a holiday. I have no idea where they are now.

But I have a book, from a student who loves reading where she used to hate it, and revels in a story with happy ending and good characters.

I don't know if there's some greater meaning to this. But I love the story, and it's come back to me. And my wrist almost hurts remembering almost 100,000 words for this story, but I can't help remember how much I wanted it.

Sometimes I think 'do I have that passion now? Is there anything I'd care about to that extent, until it hurts, until I hate it?'

I was so foolish, but so so alive and that week feels impossible. I talked to strangers! I transcribed a book! I didn't give up, not for a second!

(In fact two years later I did the same thing for Good Omens, transcribing the copy at my library over the period of a whole Summer. I purchased a copy a year after that, and gave it to a friend last year.)

I'm proud, of what ten and a half year old me did. Not because it was specifically moral, or impressive. Because of how much she loved something that she resolved to do anything to keep it with her.

The frantic handwriting is unfamiliar to me. It's spidery and smudged. The paper seems unbelievably thin, and the script uneven and unlevelled. A whole chapter has been lost to water damage. I barely have any of the book memorised. I keep it all the same because ten (and a half) year old me would weep if I lost it.

A heart is a heavy burden. But I poured mine into a strangers words, and then into those pages. I can't give them away.

#howls moving castle #howl pendragon #sophie pendragon #good omens #not sure what this really counts as #storytelling?#important to me

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corn-fanfiction · 6 months

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ARMS TONITE (PT 2)

18+ ONLY

CW: canon-typical violence, language, smut (p + v sex), dub-con, mentions of r*pe. If I missed any, let me know.

"Easy, easy. No, no, tighten that one first."

"I'd do a lot better without you hovering over my shoulder."

"Someone's gotta make sure you don't blow up the warehouse."

You stick your tongue between your teeth as you do when you're concentrating. Mark's eyes flick to it. He never slows down. Never stops.

Whatever bolt you're supposed to be tightening you manage to get it done. Mark exhales and straightens behind you. You feel a kiss on the back of your head.

"Good girl. Proud of you."

You giggle but he can't see your face drop and the way you suppress a shudder. He thinks you're brainwashed. He thinks you've fallen. He doesn't know you despise his touch even still, months later.

Laying it on thick, you turn your body that's trapped between his and the table.

"Did you sigh? You're not supposed to sigh. You're the one showing me what to do."

Mark leans in and you lean back. It looks like you're teasing him. He doesn't know you're doing everything in your power to create distance.

"Well, I'm not the perfect teacher."

He's fishing. You'll bite.

"Well maybe I'm a bad student."

Oh he likes that. He seizes your lips in a kiss and you inhale to distract yourself. He takes this as enthusiasm. A hand travels up your shirt to grab a breast but you gently push it away.

"What if Amanda comes in?" You smile against lips.

"Let her watch, she's just jealous anyway."

"No, Mark..." You squirm, but don't want to put up too much of a fight. However, thankfully, he pulls back.

"Ah, you're right. I'm a selfish man after all."

No kidding.

He places one final kiss on your cheek and finally frees your body.

"I'm gonna wash this grease off my hands," you say and head to the bathroom. He doesn't respond, which is a good thing. Mark doesn't keep a super tight leash on you, at least not in the warehouse.

In the bathroom you scrub your hands raw under hot water. You imagine you're also scrubbing off his touch, his smell, even his taste.

"Scrub all you want, Princess. No washing that away."

You look into the mirror and spot Amanda behind you, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. You turn off the sink and dry your hands.

"What do you want, Amanda?"

"Oh, that's not very welcoming. How do you greet Mark?"

She steps up behind you and brushes hair away from your neck. You do your best to act unbothered.

"Wouldn't you love to know."

"Actually, I would."

She allows you to duck away from her touch and leave the bathroom. Anywhere you can go to be away from Mark and Amanda is top of your list.

Amanda follows you out of the bathroom and into the expansive center space. It's decently organized for what it is: some long abandoned warehouse fitted to all the Jigsaw's personal and business needs.

Mark catches you by the waist before you can get too far and an immediate spike of panic shoots through you. But a wet kiss on your cheek lets you know that he's only trying to be affectionate. In his sick way.

"Get a room," Amanda groans, going to work on her own project.

"Not such a bad idea," Mark nuzzles into your neck. How much longer, you wonder. How much more do you have to endure to secure your freedom?

As much as it takes, you know. You'll only have one shot and you have to make absolutely certain you don't throw it away.

So you let him lead you to a specially locked room- your room. Or at least, it had been for a while. He knew he couldn't keep you there forever, and you had a sneaking suspicion that John Kramer wouldn't let him. Not that you've ever met the man. It's almost like a rite of passage you've yet to earn.

Mark had always kept the room nice for you which you could appreciate. It wasn't a dirty stained mattress on the floor with handcuffs hanging from the walls. It was as nice as a makeshift bedroom in an abandoned warehouse could be.

After the initial shock of having kidnapped a coworker wore off, Mark started keeping you at his apartment, then occasionally bringing you to "work" with him.

The deal had been, in his words, 'simple'.

"You're gonna quit your job at the precinct-"

"No!"

"Yes. You're gonna drop school. You're going to tell everyone in your life that you found a better situation. No forwarding address."

"And you don't think anyone would look for me when they realize I'm gone?"

He gave you a villainous grin. "Like who?"

And now, he's got you on top of him. Once he realized he could basically force you to ride him (like he could force you to do anything) it had become his favorite pastime. Him with a bruising grip on your hips, you will nails carving crescents into the headboard. You've found ways to make this as enjoyable as possible for yourself, of course. Disassociating, pretending he's someone else. It started as anyone random but soon your fantasies had zeroed in on one specific guy; some poor man you went on a single date with months ago. You'd wanted to keep seeing him. For obvious reasons, it didn't work out. It's easy to see him under you now instead of Mark.

And then, there are the times that you can't imagine anyone else. These aren't the times you're proud of.

Call it Stockholm Syndrome. You're doing what it takes to survive. You've got your eye on the prize. Your race to freedom.

Sometimes, it is enough to just have his thick, veiny cock inside of you. It makes lying to him easier, anyway.

"Fuck Sweetheart. You're so good for me, aren't you?"

You can't stand his dirty talk. But you're not going to tell him that.

"Yes," you moan.

"So good at taking my fucking cock."

He's close. You know by now when to tell. If you really play into the moans it'll get him there even faster. Faking your own orgasm helps, too. So does letting yourself have a real one.

He does want you to feel good, for his own fucked up reasons. He wants power. He wants you to hate yourself. Or at least that's how it started.

You still can't imagine why he's kept you alive this long. Surely the complacency has bored him. Surely there's nothing else he can want from you.

He cums and makes sure you do as well. You can let yourself enjoy it. Even as he cleans you up and insists on cuddling afterwards. You'd never ever pegged him as a cuddler. Well, maybe you could've, before you knew what he was capable of.

It goes on like this. Mark teaches you more and more about how to build Jigsaw traps, though you and Amanda both know he's not the best at it. He's too aggressive, sloppy. You're more careful.

"You're gonna help me build traps."

"What? Why me?"

"Because you're smart, and capable... sometimes. But we'll work on that. Or, if you prefer, you can end up in a trap. One of mine, too. And mine are rough. Maybe I'll even be assigned your case. Distraught with grief because 'oh, she was such a sweet girl. Such a diligent worker'. And oh, when we find your body... I might even cry. And no one can believe it because 'what could she possibly have done to end up in one of those?'"

"And if I don't? I'd rather kill myself the first chance I get."

"You won't. You're too stubborn. You hate me too much. You'll go on for forever trying to beat me."

Not that you'd ever tell anyone, but he was right about that. He was right about that.

-------

"Fuck, fuck!"

You zap yourself as you try wiring a head trap for the fifth time in a row. Giving up you toss the wires onto the table and sit back.

"You're rushing," Amanda says over her shoulder. Mark is out.

"I don't know why he wants me to do the electrics. I'm not good at it."

"That's why. He wants you to learn."

You huff. "I don't get it. Why hasn't he just killed me yet?"

Amanda snorts. "Don't let John hear you say that."

You know that Jigsaw has the place bugged with mics and cameras.

"I'm not saying I want to die, I'm saying I don't understand it. And why would John give a shit about me asking questions when Mark is a rapist?"

"Ooh, nasty word."

"Accurate one."

"I'm not arguing." Amanda turns to face you. "To tell you the truth? I don't know why either. I've wondered a lot, myself. But, it's John. If he's doing something it means he has his reasons."

You slam your hand on the table.

"That's not good enough!"

Amanda looks at you, shocked at your bravado. Then, a smile creeps onto her lips.

She's impressed.

"Look, you have pull with John. You could talk to him!"

"Why would I do anything to help you? Letting you live was a mercy. You should be thankful. Anything more and you would've ratted us out in a heartbeat. You still would."

An idea strikes you.

"You hate Mark."

Amanda crosses her arms.

"It's no secret."

"Wouldn't you wanna see him squirm? Pissed beyond reason? Being beat by the two of us would wreck him. If I can get satisfaction out of that I know you can too."

Amanda looks you over.

"Shit. You might be as clever as Mark thinks you are. Alright, suppose I agree. What do you suggest, short of me just letting you walk out of here?"

"That's not enough?"

Amanda clicks her tongue.

"Aww, you think I'm not gonna make you work for it even a little bit?"

You close your eyes. Sigh. Shudder.

"What do you suggest?"

Amanda wanders around, finger to her chin for effect. But then you see a gleam in her eyes that you know is real.

"How about...you go into one of my traps?"

The words send you dizzy.

"No..."

"Come on. If you're half as smart as I think you are, you may just stand a chance."

You know the kind of traps Amanda does- the kind that are impossible to escape. She and Mark share a brutality; hers is just better crafted.

"If you get out, then I'll help you escape. If you die, I get to watch Mark suffer anyway. At least this way I get something in return."

"Will it even be possible to get out of?"

"Come on. If I made it impossible it would ruin the game."

You chew the inside of your cheek. If this is your only option, it may as well be the best one.

"So how do we dress this up? Make it look like anything other than you just trying to kill me?"

"Practice. What better way to learn traps than to be in one?"

You comb over the possibilities in your brain. What could she possibly use against you to create some twisted form of poetic "justice" in her game?

"It'll be survivable?"

She crosses her heart. "Scout's honor."

You exhale a shaky breath. "Okay. Fine. Let's do it."

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

It was a hard sell to Mark, but once you backed Amanda's reasoning, he hesitantly agreed to it, even though you and Amanda working together prompted some suspicion. One kiss and fuck session and he forgot about that real quick.

Amanda was going to drug you beforehand to give you an "authentic" experience. Beforehand, Mark gives you a quick, almost gentle kiss.

"You've got this, okay? If it gets to be too much, I'll pull you out."

You search his eyes and you're surprised to see them filled with concern. Holy shit. He means it.

Amanda jabs you with a needle a little harder than necessary and soon, you're asleep.

When you wake up, you're in a room unfamiliar to you, secured to a chair with mechanized wrist cuffs, the outsides of which are patterned with rusty spikes. You wonder if she took you from the warehouse to a different location. The walls are tall, and when you look up you see a window on some sort of office- likely a factory floor or something. Behind the grimy glass you can make out Amanda, Mark, and another silhouette. White wispy hair, calm demeanor, eyes like a hawk-

Holy shit, you think.

Holy shit.

It's John Kramer.

Suddenly you get a feeling almost like stage fright. Like, if you weren't afraid of dying in this trap or never being able to escape Mark, then you'd be afraid of disappointing Jigsaw.

Okay, so maybe there was a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome.

"Hello. I would like to play a game."

The familiar, altered voice plays out over a speaker.

"You've ended up in our...strange little family due to your inability to know your place. To know when to stop looking. Perhaps now, you'll learn a lesson."

As if you haven't already.

"You will notice that the cuffs attached to your wrists are mechanized. The spikes on the outside are rigged to a timer. If you do not complete your task in time, the spikes will be forced inward, puncturing your veins. Apart from being excruciatingly painful, it will also cause you to bleed to death.

"To your left you will see a table with a tray holding a syringe. This is a chemical that will heighten your pain receptors. Inject it into your bloodstream when the timer starts.

"Once you have completed that task, you will search the desk behind you for a key. Get the key, secure your freedom. Allow the timer to run out, and face your demise. Live or die. Make your choice."

The directions swim in your head but all you can think is the word death. Something releases the cuffs from the chair and you launch yourself forward and face the window.

"Amanda! You said it was survivable!"

Amanda leans over to a microphone with a grin. "It is. You just have to survive it."

You don't bother looking at Mark to gauge his reaction because the timer is ticking down from three minutes.

Whatever pain you will suffer here is nothing compared to what you have, and could possibly feel.

You run to the tray and uncap the syringe with unsteady hands. You inject it into your arm and wince as you inject the heavy fluid. Almost immediately, the sensation of the needle in you arm is unbearably present and you jerk it out and throw it to the ground.

Okay, first part done.

You rush to the desk. You go to yank open the first drawer but an electric jolt is sent through your body and you fall, twitching against the ground.

Damn bitch electrified the handles.

You sit up again and look at the timer.

2:00

You fumble and remove your belt and bite onto it. You yank open the same drawer, screaming through the pain only to find it empty. There's three more.

You open the second. Empty. Tears are streaming down your face.

You open the third. Inside, thin shards of glass. Sharp as knife-point. Beneath them you can see a key.

You barely spare a thought for the pain and plunge your hand inside.

The screams escape you anyway and the belt falls from your mouth.

If you were in the room above, you would hear the ensuing argument.

"Amanda, that's enough. She's gonna bleed to death," Mark says and makes his way to the release button.

"Don't you even think about it, Hoffman. She knows what she signed up for."

"You can't kill her!"

John Kramer watches you. You tug on the drawer to remove it from the desk, presumably to dump it to the ground. Smart, he thinks, but it's secure in its place. You curse and continue digging your hand inside.

1:00

Mark tires to shoulder past Amanda but she pulls a gun on him.

Meanwhile, you're losing the skin on your hand. But, right as you think you'd rather just die and get it over with, your fingers wrap around the key and you yank your hand out, passing the key to your unmarred hand.

There's a door behind the desk.

00:30

You struggle to fit the key in the lock through your tears and your entire body shaking.

00:24

You slot the key in and turn it. An alarm blares. The clock stops. You cry out in relief and throw the door open.

But your relief is cut short when you see two bodies kneeling in the adjoining room. You don't recognize either of them.

You turn back to the window.

"Amanda? What the fuck is this?"

But Amanda just smiles as another recording begins to play.

"Before you are two corrupt businessmen. Never mind their crimes. You absence at the precinct has caused certain things to slip through the cracks, including any justice for the individuals in the room with you. You have a choice. Pick up the knife on the floor next to you. Kill one of them. You have one minute. If you do not, the wrist bands will deploy. One sacrifice for two lives. Make your choice."

You can't think straight and the timer has already started. Both of the men are shouting at you, begging, pleading, telling you about their families and their hardships. You're going numb.

"Amanda, you can't make me do this!"

"You're right. It's your choice."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" You yell. You pick up the knife.

00:28

To you, it doesn't matter who you kill. You look between them. One looks to be a bit older than the other. Wedding ring.

You look at the younger man.

"I am so sorry."

Whatever it takes.

00:17

The man hardly has time to respond before you plunge the knife into the left side of his neck, aiming for the carotid artery to give him as quick a death as possible.

You hear the timer buzz. The shackles undo and fall from your wrist. You drop the knife. The man's blood has sprayed onto you. You ignore the other man's relentless thanks and wander back into the main room.

The sound of a door opening and closing doesn't register to you. Hands come to your shoulders, then your face.

"Hey, hey, look at me. You're okay." A kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you. You're safe now."

No, not now.

But soon.

#mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #amanda young #john kramer #saw fanfic #smut #angst #amanda being a bamf

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anotherwritersblog · 2 years

Text

Title: Mr. B

Pairings: teacher!Bucky Barnes x teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: teasing, getting handsy, almost a handjob but not quite there, suggestive/language, let's not call HR, okay? This is a teacher x teacher fic. If you think there's a student involved just because high school is mentioned, please kindly go away 🙃

Author's Note: So I was taking a class and one of the prompts had me "role-playing" a scenario where a "Mr. Barnes had to intervene a fight" and well...it turned into this. 🤷‍♀️ I could never teach high school, but I might be convinced if I had coworkers that looked like Bucky 😂 Mistakes are my own.

Long time no see. Just checking up on tumblr. See y’all next month with another piece from the drafts. Lol

Any and all reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated.

In no way, shape, or form, do you have permission to repost this anywhere

Divider by @happygowriting 💕

High school was always the bane of your existence. Everyone was so “clique-ish” and always huddled down their own hallway. The jocks were never caught without some sort of ball in their hand, throwing it back and forth across the hall. The nerds were geeking out every Monday about their new Magic the Gathering cards they bought over the weekend or playing games of their own. The band kids were found making out behind the vending machines or practicing in the band room, where everyone heard as they got off the buses in the morning. You eventually found your own group of friends, but your days were always the same.

Get up, go to school, tread through classes, eat your lunch, tread a little more, go home.

And repeat.

Many of the classes also bored you half to sleep. There were very few you actually enjoyed, and maybe a handful of teachers you were actually going to miss. But once graduation came, you tossed your cap in the air with the only thought of good riddance.

You went off to college the following fall. You experimented. Found yourself. Fell in love. Graduated once again. Got married. The experience was a lot better than you ever thought it would be. But of course, after all was said and done, you found yourself back where you thought you’d never be again.

High school.

It had been almost a decade since you graduated, but you had found a love in teaching the older grades. More specifically, Advanced Comp for seniors. You were able to combine two of your passions into one and you actually enjoyed it.

You had such a welcoming classroom and any student that knew you, past, present, or even in passing, respected the hell out of you. You were patient with your struggling writers and knew exactly how to challenge your higher-thinking students. You made the class engaging and it was always the highlight of someone’s day.

All the seniors on your roster loved your class and all the younger students wanted to be in your class. It was a rewarding feeling and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself.

The only downside of your day was that your planning period was towards the end, sixth period out of seven. You’d prefer it first thing in the morning, or as your very last period, but it is what it is.

Heading to the mailroom during this time on a Friday, you caught sight of two of your students, John and Peter, and the school’s new PE Coach, Bucky Barnes, outside of the gym. Your curiosity got the better of you and you had to see what was going on. John was a tall, blonde athletic kid. He was a little arrogant, but his writing took you by surprise when he turned it in. Peter on the other hand, was much smaller in statue, but was also one of the smartest and most kind students in your class. He was so sweet; he would never hurt a spider.

“Now explain to me, why did you trip Walker?” Bucky leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as his eyes bounced between the two troublemakers.

“What’s going on here? You tripped John?” your head snapped to Peter, but his eyes were glued to his shoes.

“Afternoon, ma’am. Just trying to figure that out is all,” Bucky’s voice called your attention to him, and you saw the slight smile on his face before it disappeared once more. He eyed the boys and asked Peter to continue with his side of the story.

“Walker was picking on MJ and wouldn’t leave her alone, basically teasing her. So, I may or may not have tripped him, and then he ran me down and started hitting me. I tried to block a few punches, but that’s when Coach Barnes saw us and pulled us apart. Walker told him that I started it,” finally looking up, and meeting your gaze, you catch sight of the nasty bruise that was forming on Peter’s cheek.

“You let this happen?” you glanced at Bucky, furious that he hadn’t done anything about it.

“Well, when you’re in the middle of making sure eighty other children aren’t throwing dodgeballs at heads or below the belt, it takes a minute before we can get to the bottom of a situation.”

“I am very disappointed in you both,” you glared at the teenagers. This time, they’re both looking at the ground. That was the last way they wanted you to feel about them. “John, you will take Peter to the nurse and tell her exactly what happened. On Monday, you both will be serving detention before and after school and will receive an extra writing assignment for homework. You are seniors for god’s sake, almost adults. You better start acting like one. Do you understand me?”

The boys mumbled a yes ma’am and started walking. You heard some soft chatter about what sounded like the new episode of Squid Games, so you turned your body back towards the other adult in the conversation. He was looking at you with what might have been concern, not for you, but the two boys you just sent off.

“Why don’t you come into my office for a minute? Coach Wilson can handle the class for a couple of minutes without me.”

You followed him into his office and sunk into the chair across from his desk. You heard the door lock behind you, and the shutter of the blinds to close. Footsteps were made to the mini fridge behind his desk, and you eye the bottles of water.

“Would you like one, doll?” he pulled two out and started to hand one off to you. You accept the offer and take a couple of sips, enough to cool down a bit. He stood in front of you, sitting against his desk, looking over you. “I think you might have gone overboard with the punishment.”

“I did not go overboard! You should have yelled at them! You need to document it!”

Bucky stuck his hands out towards you, beckoning for you to come to him. You placed the bottle on the floor and stood up, placing your hands in his. He pulled you into a warm embrace as you laced your fingers behind his back. Your head laid on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

“Mrs. B. Did you forget to grab your lunch again? Or was last night’s rendezvous too much and you just didn’t get enough sleep?” Bucky questioned softly, running his hands through your hair.

“I may or may not have forgotten my lunch again, Mr. B...” you mumbled into his chest, this time averting your gaze from his.

“Baby. Why didn’t you come get something from my office? You know I have snacks laying around. I don’t care if you come in while I’m out on the court with the kids.”

“I lost track of time, putting in grades so I wouldn’t have to this weekend, and then there were the emails about the upcoming festival and after school activities they needed volunteers for and-”

Cut off by a pair of soft lips on yours, you felt your eyes close and just enjoy the moment. The way Bucky’s hands had found their way to cup your cheeks, and yet pull your body further into his, made a lot of the frustrations you didn’t know you had, melt away.

“Man. Who knew that working with your husband had its perks,” you giggled, looking into those beautiful, blue eyes. Your hands slipped up into his sweatshirt, feeling every dip and ridge of his abdomen.

“You’re playing a dangerous game there, Mrs. B. I don’t want to have to contact HR for this behavior,” he chuckled, running his hands down your sides and back up to the buttons on your blouse.

“My behavior? I don’t know what behavior you could be talking about, Mr. B. I’ve been a good girl today,” your fingers feather down to the front of his sweatpants, where you notice the bulge beginning to grow. You soon found yourself palming him, eliciting low moans and groans from his lips into the small office. “In fact, I think I deserve my own reward for being so good this week. Got anything in the treasure box I might enjoy?” Your hands reached for the waistband of his sweats, fingers grabbing the other side of his briefs and brushing against the upper part of his cock.

You felt him twitch beneath your fingers as you began to pull down his bottoms. Unfortunately for him, the bell had rung. A few of his usual curse words fell from his lips before you tugged him closer for one last kiss.

“I guess those dodgeballs on the court aren’t the only blue ones around here now. I’ll see you when you get home, Mr. B,” you slipped from his grasp and smoothed the front of your blouse down. You grabbed your water bottle, a bag of chips from his stash, and made your way out the door.

Bucky couldn’t be more thankful that this was his planning period, so he didn’t have to deal with students for the rest of the day. The only planning he could focus on though was what he was going to do to you when you got home tonight.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes one shot #teacher!bucky #teacher!bucky barnes #anotherwritersblog writing

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comfy-whumpee · 1 year

Text

The First Bird 2

Continued from yesterday’s piece. CN: BBU, religion.

@neuro-whump, @rosesareviolentlyread, @whumper-in-training, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @whumpsday, @firewheeesky, @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

Together in the garden, Avis weeded the flowerbed and Paris lay on the grass, listening to her talk. Avis told them about her childhood, lingering over fun and bright anecdotes and skipping the unhappy times. Paris was obviously fascinated, and two windows had opened to listen, she was pretty sure. It was nice, in some way, to only talk about the shenanigans at school and the silly games she had made up, and not the absence of her parents or their insistence on hiring staff instead of meeting her needs.

"I made this little bird box at school, just by gluing together wood, but I was so proud of it. I painted it green so it wouldn't stand out and be a good hiding spot for them, and I filled it with all the softest flower petals I could find, and seeds to eat and some twigs. I asked for it to be put in the tree by my window. I must have watched that thing for hours at a time. In the end, a squirrel came and stole everything I'd put in it. I was furious."

"I like green," Paris volunteered, looking at the grass. It was almost at eye level and they moved a finger through it as if studying how it parted around them.

"Me too. I like blue better though." Avis took the lead-in and pivoted to a new story. "When I was thirteen I declared war on pink. It was silly of me, but a lot of people that I didn't like liked pink, so I decided it was my enemy. I had a pink bedroom before then but I got everything thrown out and replaced with blue things, which was treated like the opposite of pink in a lot of places. I realised eventually that it was silly to pretend I didn't like something just because of other people."

Paris hummed politely.

"I had a teacher back then who did Maths, but everyone knew he should have been teaching PE - that's sports. He used to do push-ups to show off. We thought it was cool at the time, but I remember him going to the office after a while and being told to stop. I think they didn't like him showing off to a bunch of kids to feel cool."

Paris didn't reply for a moment longer. Then they sat up and looked her way. "Nobody talks to me like you."

Some rescues Avis had met used honesty like a rapier, thrusting to try and connect. Some used it like a club, to wield their lives in challenge. Paris seemed to have a goddamn sniper rifle. Shot to the heart, every time.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing, how I talk?"

"Good. You're nice to listen to."

"I'm glad. If you want me to stop talking, you can tell me."

"Mm."

"And if you want to talk instead, you can too."

Paris lifted their hand free of the grass. There were faint muddy stains on their fingers. Avis was pretty sure they had never had mud stains before, judging by the way they were staring in awe. It was almost joyous to be there while Paris discovered all of these tiny things, and loved each of them.

"I would just talk about Sir," they said.

"You can if you want. I don't mind." She knew the others would, but screw the others. Avis was only here to help, not to make things worse.

Paris put their hand back on the soil. Then they lay down, iridescent in the sun. "Sir is a photographer. He makes nature photos a lot. He has an unparalleled eye for beauty in all its forms." They were audibly quoting something. "And I was - that."

A photographer buying his own model. If only that had been all.

"I went to lots of places," Paris added distantly. "Some of them were on the plane. I had to be beautiful in all the places we went to. He had a book for them all that he said he would make a real book.

"I think I would get dizzy," Avis said honestly.

Paris lifted their hands again, turning them in the butter-yellow light of the afternoon sun. "I didn't get dizzy. He made a book about me before. Paris is the most beautiful man in the world, and the heart of fashion, and now the most irresistible model working today. That's what Sir said."

Of course. Because any compliment to Paris must have really been a compliment to himself. Avis knew that kind of man. She shifted their focus. "What did it feel like, being in a book?"

Paris dropped their hand, eyes closing. "I was beautiful. I had lots of outfits and I was always outside. I liked making the book in Paris."

For a minute, Avis simply trowelled at the soil, digging down to the roots of a stubborn weed. Then she offered, "I like being outside too."

"Sir said I shouldn't be in the sun too much. He said it would make my skin age."

"Not if you're careful not to spend too long," Avis assured them. Their looks were still a priority, it seemed. Was that for safety's sake as well?

"It's okay. I have a skincare routine."

Avis made a noise of understanding, and after a moment, branched into a story about dropped pennies in the rain

When Avis went back into the kitchen, Dinah was washing up at the sink overlooking the garden. She stepped aside to give Avis space to access the side sink for handwashing. As Avis lathered her fingers, Dinah said in her usual soft voice, "Is it, it warm today?"

Dinah always spoke as though she was desperate to go unheard. Avis moved slightly to look at her, then back again, while she worked the suds between her joints. "It is in my book. But where I live is pretty cold, so you might not agree with me."

"Oh, okay." She looked out of the window at the garden. She didn't seem too pleased.

Avis rinsed and stepped back, picking up a kitchen towel to dry her hands. A minute passed.

"Does Paris, does, does Paris touch you?" Dinah asked anxiously.

Avis tried to show no reaction as she picked up a bowl from the drying rack. "No."

Dinah looked at the soap water around her hands. She picked up a pot lid and ran the brush around it. "They, they touched me. When I talked to them."

What was she meant to say to that without assumptions? "Hmm."

Another minute or two passed. Dinah scrubbed in slow circles, making the metal lid sing faintly. When she spoke again, it was quietly enough that Avis had to strain to hear. "It was scary."

Avis took a slow breath. She'd said these words so many times it felt meaningless, but to Dinah, maybe it would matter. "I'm sorry that happened to you. They shouldn't have scared you."

"Ray says they can't help it. He says Romantics always do that. And Bryony says what they said in training. Romantics don't, um, they're not like the rest of us." She turned worried eyes to Avis. "My Mistress had one, though. He was, he was nice to me."

Avis waited for whatever she was building up to. She dried bowl after bowl.

"I don't, don't - don't want to be mean. To, to Paris. But I c-can't tell if they…if they want to. Touch. Me." By the time she finished her face was burning, and she covered it with her elbow, shoulders hunching in shame.

"That's alright," Avis said softly. She was being asked for advice. "You shouldn't have to watch out for that. If Paris does things that make you uncomfortable, it's okay to try and keep yourself safe from that. It doesn't mean they're a bad person."

Unless Avis was a worse judge of character than anyone had ever pointed out to her, she was confident she could promise that much, at least.

The phrasing seemed to resonate with Dinah, who nodded firmly. "They're not, not a bad person. But they - they use people to feel safe. Ray said that we should pity them, not hate them."

"Does that help?"

"It does. Thank you, thank you, Avis."

Avis smiled and stepped away. As she left the kitchen and stepped out into the sun again, she felt the beams breaking across her frown. Love the sinner, hate the sin? She'd heard that before. What was it about Romantics?

Paris was still lying in the sun, eyes closed. Avis crouched and nudged them gently on the shoulder. "Hey, Paris. It's not a good idea to fall asleep in the sun."

They opened their eyes. They didn't look like they'd been sleeping, but it was hard to tell with how their gaze never focused on one thing.

"Hey," Avis repeated, more softly. "Sorry for disturbing you. If you want to lie out here for longer you need to get sunblock on."

Paris blinked muzzily. "I had a parasol."

Instinctively, Avis knew they didn't mean in the shelter. "In an hour or two, the house will cast a shadow on the garden if you still want to be outside. Or we can get the windows in your room open. There are lots of options."

"Okay." They sat up. Without looking, they ran a hand over their hair and perfectly realigned it to tumble gracefully over their shoulders. "I would like to open the windows."

"Sounds like a plan."

Avis was sitting in the living room half-watching American TV and writing notes when she heard the conversation. It was Dinah, the young and nervous rescue who she had guessed was newest to the shelter. She had knocked on Ray's bedroom door, and of course, he had opened it to her.

"Pastor Ray?" she asked. She always addressed him this way, and sometimes Avis swore she heard the girl say Master instead. Ray told her not to worry about titles, but she did it anyway.

"What can I do for you?" he asked her, when she didn't volunteer her reason for visiting.

“Um…" Avis could picture her shifting from foot to foot. "I was, I was thinking about what you said about your prayer for us. About um, about sin. That we are all, we all sin, and we have to - we have sins from people before us."

"That's right," Ray confirmed gently. "Does that bother you? It doesn't make you bad, let me make that clear."

"No, I - I was thinking…" Pause, shift, shift. "What if, if before I was – me. Before I was a pet. What if that person sinned? Would it still be, um, be me?"

Avis steered clear of the religious stuff, her own marginally Protestant upbringing well removed from Ray's faith. But she couldn't deny she was curious about the question too. She inched closer to the doorway to listen.

Ray took a moment. He started carefully. "That was a very brave thing to ask me about, Dinah. Thank you for letting me know your worries. I want to remind you again that you are not bad. When I talk about doing right by the Lord, that's not to do with being a pet. That's to do with who you are inside, and you're more than that."

Avis smiled. She hoped Dinah took that in, even just a little. She was still staying in the box, even though the box was gone.

"The sins we have are from people who came before us, like you said. The first man and woman sinned, and that act is something we all carry. That's why we have to work to be virtuous. And again, I said virtuous, not good. I say that because I want you to remember it's different. It's about the teachings of Jesus that you've been learning."

"I remember," Dinah said quietly.

"I'm glad. Jesus loves every one of us. He is looking out for us and wishes us the best. Even when you felt alone and scared, He was with you. He was with the person who came before you, as well, though maybe she didn't know he was. Her sins are no different from anyone else's. You may have the same immortal soul, but you can still strive for virtue and by God's grace you will succeed."

There was another pause as Dinah considered this, but she asked tentatively, "So I can still go to Heaven?"

"Anyone can, by turning their life around."

Hell was the ultimate punishment, Avis supposed, even without having been in a living one. She wondered if Dinah was more interested in escaping that than actually following the Bible.

"I'm glad. Thank you, Pastor Ray." She did sound relieved.

"God never gives us more than we can handle," Ray reminded her, one of his favourite sayings. "You are stronger than you know.

She sounded warmer, this time. "Thank you. I'll go leave you be now."

His voice warmed too, fond of all his rescues. "Pray tonight if you still need guidance. But you're working hard, Dinah. I see that, and so does He."

The great Handler in the sky, Avis thought cynically. But Dinah was happy. She thanked Ray again, and went back upstairs. Doors closed again, and the house was silent.

#bbu #the birdhouse #my fic #whump #religion and bbu is something i don't have a lot of thoughts about but i have a few so here they are #florence #avis #comfort #recovery whump

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milkstoner · 10 months

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Thoughts of DILF, middle aged Sebek? Since you did Silver the duo has to be complete, haha. I personally feel like he would be more of a refined, fancy old guy, maybe even embracing his human and academic side more with age? I like to think he laughs more since toboso described him as being similar to a puppy in the art book🥰 but I’d like to get your thoughts if you have the time, thank you :D

okay there’s mallesebemalle in this im sorry

Without even thinking hard about it… WOULD.

Now that this is out of the way, I need a DILF Sebe. I think he inherits half of a fey’s lifespan, so by the time Silver is 45-50 Sebek still looks quite young. Silver won’t be there to see how gracefully Sebek ages.

It’s around like, halfway through his life (i won’t give a year bc I have no idea how long the Zigvolts live lol) that he’ll need reading glasses… hot. Also, he smells so good oh my goodness. An old DILF that wears an exquisite expensive cologne yes please. Even after all those years, he takes great care of himself. Grooms himself regularly… shaves his facial hair… he’s so sexy. Still slicks back his hair, all that stuff… except he’s old now… yum

He has a loud booming laugh!!! It makes you all warm inside. His crows feet creasing when he laugh oh my … and he routinely slaps his men on the back as a friendly gesture but omg it actually hurts a lot. He’s friendly and such a sweet mentor and father figure, but when things get serious my god he gets intimidating. Strict with his men. Punishes the troublemakers with Lilia-style training. Basically, PE teacher energy. Provides surface-level emotional support, but you can tell he cares and he can tell when you don’t feel so well, so it warms you up still. Dad jokes. DAD JOKES. Not funny, super embarrassing , actually very charming. Hi gay, I’m Sebek Zigvolt LIKE SHUT UPPPPP.

Patriotic, takes pride in his fey and human sides!!! Proud of himself for going up the ranks as a half fey. His humanity is actually very attractive to the gay boys under him zhfhdgfj. Anyway, he learned to find strength in his humanity—I mean that he can somewhat predict/understand the motivations etc of a human enemy, moreso than a full fey. but! His race makes him unique and valuable to have within the ranks.

He’s all grown and he’s actually as tall as Malleus. He drinks scotch, certified dilf drink, and malleus drinks straight absinthe. (Shakily holds my mic) do we want to see dilf Sebe fuck Malleus? I’m. Oh. I’m a top Malleus girlie. Oh my. Okay, they switch. I’m sorry Malleus… oh my god Malleus I’m sorry. It’s just something irresistible about a dilf fucking a younger looking man. Malleus seeing just how much Sebek has grown, how strong he is, how casual, how sweet he is… hey Sebek is supposed to protect Malleus, and there is something submissive in being protected, right? I think I do like sebemallesebe better if Sebe is middle aged because the potential for char dev and Sebek finally loosening up and having a somewhat healthy but scandalous sexual relationship with his king is so enticing. I cannot picture our current Sebek even daring to kiss Malleus, but give him some experience and just a bit of flirting from Malleus and he’ll have no qualms about climbing into the king’s bed. Can’t deny the king!! He wouldn’t dare! He’ll be really caring with Malleus you know, until he realizes he’s inside of him and his heart starts palpitating. The passionate kisses, oh my… he’ll give his all to make Malleus feel good… like to the point of overstimulation, and that’s a lot. Malleus has to grip Sebek’s head when he comes for the umpteenth time because my, general (!!!) Zigvolt, you’re enjoying this a bit much… before savagely kissing him hmhm

The opposite dynamic is so sexy too. I want Malleus to fuck that old man into the mattress. I want them both covered in the other’s seed. I want them to fuck each other for hours. Sebek’s deep hoarse groans into the sheets please…….. I’m sorry. Both of them are such refined, sophisticated old men… I want to see them lost in desire to the point they get so dirty… OLD MAN YAOI😭😭😭😭💜💜💜💜💜💜 passionately making out in candlelight, between the shelves in the library… somebody will smell a different cologne on Malleus…

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sseraflix · 1 year

Text

JANUARY 2023 ISSUE | ELLE KOREA [EC]

OFFSHOT / PREVIEW

official = web / pics

MAGAZINE SCANS

credits to @39storage

INTERVIEW TRANSLATION

credits to @fimdungies & @itsLSRFM (web)

Q1: 2022 was a special year for Eunchae. What’s the most memorable scene? It’s hard to choose one for the most memorable moment, but I want to choose my debut showcase! Before the stage LED door opened, I was standing in the back, holding poses nervously. It was when there were only a few seconds left of the moment I had dreamed of so much. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

Q2: Just by looking at your expression, you can convey the overwhelming emotions at the time (laughs). Today’s pictorial also contains Eunchae’s bright energy, was it fun? I was excited because it was my first solo photoshoot (pictorial). I was excited because it also captured my personality and real appearance as it is. Depending on the pictorial concept, there are times when I become ‘dark’, and there are also times when I burst out laughing and smiling. It’s fun to put it differently every time.

Q3: Even in school, you were full of energy to the extent of participating in the student council and sports club, right? I am the kind of person who couldn’t stand still. I was very cheerful. I like to exercise and run around, so I play soccer with the guys and I think I look forward to PE class the most.

Q4: You were the last trainee to join LE SSERAFIM I remember the exact moment I heard that I was joining the team. Since I didn’t have a long trainee period, I vaguely thought that I would’ve enough time to practice tomorrow or the next day. But the opportunity came so suddenly. I was so grateful but at the same time I was scared. But still, with great luck my dream of debuting came to me, so I made up my mind to do well.

Q5: So your heart became stronger at that moment Starting from joining the team late, and getting used to it, to learning the choreography also recording, it wasn’t an easy job to do as a first timer. Looking back at the times I was running toward my goal of debuting now, it’s really precious and I’m proud of myself for doing well.

Q6: Even though It’s been two months since the tittle track for the 2nd mini album ‘ANTIFRAGILE’ release, it’s getting more and more love right now. What did you worked on the most while preparing for this song? Because I wanted to show more sides of myself that I couldn’t show in the debut song ‘FEARLESS’ and do better, so I had a different mindset for this song. If I started promoting my debut song without knowing anything, it turns out I became more nervous because ‘ANTIFRAGILE’ is my second promotion. The genre was unfamiliar and I was worried whether people would like it or not, but I was surprised and it’s amazing that it’s getting more love than I imagined. It also doesn’t feel real that it got 2nd on ‘Melon TOP 100’!

Q7: Especially on this part “Walk like a majestic lion / eyes glinting with so much desire” we could feel Eunchae’s unique color. It might sounds like you’re singing it lightly, but it sticks in your ears (easy to listen to). I thought it was an attractive part from the moment I heard it in the guide version, turns out that became my part! The vocal teacher said that it would be better to sing it indifferently as if it were annoying, and it fits so well. It’s fun and interesting to see reaction like “it sticks in my ears/catchy” or “it’s strangely addictive”.

Q8: Did you know that the viewers also received a lot of energy from LE SSERAFIM unique moves like walking and kicking choreography? Do you gain strength by doing all of this move? It’s really tough physically, but interestingly, expressing the same movements on stage doubles the energy. It gets more intense than when i was doing it in the practice room, I think LE SSERAFIM has the best stamina (laughs)

Q9: Despite the intense choreography, your expression didn’t get disturb for a moment I went on stage with the mindset of raising my energy as much as possible even for a short time so that I won’t be embarrassed if I see it later, also so that I can show you everything I have. Maybe that’s why?

Q10: The girls who moved forward without fear in ‘FEARLESS’ grew more in ‘ANTIFRAGILE’. Now beyond fearless, they also have become hard enough not to break. Has Eunchae also changed her mindset or attitude just like the message of the song? When we were preparing for our comeback, we had schedules and practice, unlike our debut song. We were busy preparing for end year show performance as well so it was tiring. But, I wanted to be on stage, so I casted a spell on myself to become ‘ANTIFRAGILE’. I was worried with the members as well about whether we would be able to complete this song well and make a comeback, or whether I could pull off this difficult choreography a few times during recording, but in the end it worked. We worked really hard and at some point it was completed. We even said among ourselves, “ it’s really ‘ANTIFRAGILE’ that we went through a setback and completed a stage that’s better” (laughs)

Q11: As soon as you debuted, you received a hot response, it must’ve been a sudden spotlight on the team, but Eunchae is full of confidence as if you’re meant to be on stage. How do you get rid of your nervousness? I started doing this because I liked singing and dancing. I would be nervous or worried that I would make a mistake, but when it came to it and I stood on the stage and heard our song play, I thought “Right, I’ve come all this way to do this” and I felt a boost in my confidence. I’m not really the type of person who gets nervous that much.

Q12: I think I get the reason why the members find Eunchae so cute (laugh). How does it feel to be the maknae who receives all of LE SSERAFIM’s love? I don’t know much about the maknaes of the other teams, but I feel safe because of the four moms, I mean the unnies, that I have with me. There are a few times when it’s a little burdensome or pressuring to have them call me insanely cute even if I say just one thing, but I really enjoy it myself (laugh).

Q13: Each one of these four “moms” has a different character, don’t they? Can you introduce them all one by one through Eunchae’s point of view? I’m someone who can pick up on things really quickly, and Sakura unnie knows that too. One day, she told me this in passing, “You don’t have to be that quick to notice things. The maknae doesn’t need to be so cautious.”. I don’t have to be so aware and I can do whatever I want to do, and that unnie will do all the difficult things for me. Unnie might not remember that, but it really struck a chord in me. For Chaewon unnie, when I had first joined the team I was incredibly shy, and she would ask me if I was having a hard time and if I was okay. Those memories are still fresh in my mind. Yunjin unnie is like my real older sister, when she cuts some fruits up she feeds me a piece, and leaves them in the fridge for me to eat later on. And when I’m sitting still she says “You’re really cute” right away (laugh). Kazuha unnie is really thoughtful and kind-hearted. She’s someone who’s considerate about even the most trivial of things and puts others before herself.

Q.14: You’re all full of affection. So, what do you like best about yourself? My bright personality? I laugh a lot so that’s why the unnies call me cute, but when I’m quiet it’s like the fun gets sucked out of Hong Eunchae. But I just like myself the most when I’m loud, acting like a kid, and laughing a ton. When I’m laughing, all my worries disappear.

Q.15: What do your school friends, who you laugh and chatter around with, now say about how you’re putting yourself out there in the world? Even so, I asked my closest friend about that, but since they know about all of the effort I’ve made even before becoming a trainee they said “I know that you’ve worked hard, so I’m also proud of you”. Maybe it’s because we’re so close that it was a luke-warm response, and instead of seeing me as a celebrity they just always say “Eunchae you looked pretty on TV today” to me (laugh). They said that being around other celebrities was more fascinating than me promoting as one!

Q.16: They waited for you to ask for their response, you really are besties. Deep down, I could feel that they’re proud of me. When we walk together in the streets and our song plays, or when a dance team performs a LE SSERAFIM song for a festival, I feel happy when they say “That’s your song playing!”.

Q.17: You’re turning 17 internationally next year, and you’ll finally get your registration card, what’s the thing that you want to do first and foremost? I don’t really know what I want to do, but I first want to get pretty photos taken for my ID photo. I’ve seen Chaewon unnie’s ID photo and she looks so youthful and beautiful. I think I’ll be in great spirits if I get a pretty photo of me taken.

Q.18: What are lyrics among LE SSERAFIM’s songs that give you strength or you just like in particular? I like the lyrics ‘Even if it’s different from my fancy expectations / looking plain and shoddy / Find the good parts the good parts’ from the song “Good Parts (when the quality is bad but I am)” that’s on our new album. There are times when we make ourselves look great and fancy on the outside, but sometimes we can fail to meet expectations and feel like we don’t look so good. So I think that the message of “I love myself even if I’m lacking” is really cool and I want to have that mindset as well.

Q.19: What part in this line of work do you love? This may come off as being shameless, but hearing the loud cheers when I’m dancing and singing on the stage is just electrifying. I loved dancing so I started this job, and I have a huge desire to perform (laugh). The preparation period may have been really difficult and bleak, but back then just imagining that I could be doing all of this on stage made me feel like there was nothing I couldn’t do no matter how busy or exhausted I was.

Q.20: In the documentary “LE SSERAFIM – The World Is My Oyster” which records your journey to debut, you talked about your modest yet strong aspirations by saying “I want to make myself known to many people…”. Do you think that you have enough courage to “get to that amazing ending” just like the lyrics of “FEARLESS”? I don’t think I can say that I have enough, but I’ve gotten confidence from doing this album’s promotions and the year-end performances. Since now I know that there are so many people from across the world saying that our music and performances are cool!

VIDEO / BEHIND

youtube

#le sserafim #le sserafim eunchae #hong eunchae #eunchae #magazine #photoshoot #fim-magz #Youtube

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