#I despise short days with every fiber of my being

[skyloftian-nutcase]

If the seasonal depression could stop making me just ✨exist✨ outside of work, that would be great. 👍🏻

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure skater! Fem! Reader)

A/N: has it been less then 24 hours? Yes. Am I still gonna upload this? Yes. Hehe. Don’t wanna spoil anything but y’all will enjoy the chapter. Haven’t been proofread so excuse any typos or grammar mistakes. Miguel might be ooc. Also I’ll probably take a day or 2 off from posting after this lol.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Cursing. Not anything else lol.

Word count: 1.5k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8: ‘Cause there’s this tune I found, that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat.

—

“Again.”

…

“Again.”

…

“Again. I’ll have you two keep going until you both freeze your limbs off, or you two are fully in sync. Again.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, but following coach Kavinsky’s orders, you and Logan quickly got into the starting positions for the swan lake program you were doing for regionals, it’s the only thing you two have been practicing (apart from the usual stuff you went over every practice) since regionals were so close, deciding since it was the longer, more difficult program, it needed more fine tuning then the short one program you had to do. Lucky you had already perfected the short program, you and Logan were going to do a routine to Mia’s & Sebastian’s Theme from La La Land for the short program, and obviously you two practiced it everyday as well, but a majority of practice was focused on the Swan Lake routine.

“We’re gonna die here.” Logan whispered to you as you both skated into starting positions, partly joking, partly serious. You attempt to suppress a snort, knowing if you let it out while coach Kavinsky was getting irritated from your session today then she might as well cut your head off with how angry she becomes. Once in position, the music starts and we begin the routine.

—

“Alright… that was an, improvement…” Coach mumbled as Logan and you hit the final marks, and although her words said one thing, her tone was obviously still not impressed. “Go take 20 for water and a breather.” She added with a sigh before walking away, you checked the time as you and Logan moved to the edge of the rink, putting your guards on before stepping off the ice.

“Ima go to the bathroom.” You say to Logan who just nodded in response before making your way to the girls locker room, after about 5 minutes, you came out and were making your way back down the hall. Right when you were about to turn the corner, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you into a random, empty, dark dance room. You let out a yelp when you were pulled into the room, and you were preparing to scream in hopes someone will hear and get you away from the random person who pulled you into the room when you hear the click of the door lock, but stopped when the people turned on the lights. Your eyes narrowed as you spoke, voice dripping with venom. “You.”

“(Y/N).” He stared down at you, returning your tone as you two began a stare off. Your hands landing on your hips as his arms cross in front of his chest. After a few moments of silence, Miguel finally spoke. “We need to talk.” His voice was hard and his face was stern.

“Yeah, we do.” You quipped, your brows furrowed in annoyance, “but I only have 15 more minutes until my break is over, so we have to do this late-“

“No.” He interrupted, his arms dropped his side as he took a step closer to you, causing you to take one back, finding yourself against the door as you stared up at him, but other than taking the step back, your confidence didn’t waver. “We’re gonna talk right now.”

You let out an annoyed huff as you rolled your eyes, “Fine, let’s make this quick.” You grumble, “and I’ll go first, I just want to let you know, I hate you Miguel O’Hara, I despise you with every fiber of my being.” You declared, you had to hate him, why else would you feel your whole body heat up whenever you were around him. Especially when you two were in a locked room together, which was happening more often than you would like.

Miguel rolled his eyes at your words, his tongue pointed at the inside of his cheek as an annoyed smirk appeared on his lips, he let out a dry, unamused chuckle escaped his plump lips as he lightly shook his head. “God you are so insufficient.” He groaned, “ You think your words can hurt me? Because they can’t. You know why (Y/N)? Because I hate you too.” He finished as he took another step closer to you.

You scoffed at his words, your arms moving up to cross over your chest, “You’re a horrible liar.” You hissed, “if you hated me so much why did you try to kiss me at the party last week?” You asked, but your tone comes more off as you proving a point to him rather than asking a question.

“If you hate me so much why didn’t you stop me?” He countered, and even though his eyes and voice held irritation, you couldn’t help but notice it felt like he was… challenging you almost…. So of course, you wanted to see how far you could push it. You know what they said about curiosity, and right now, you were one curious kitty.

“If you hated me then why try it in the first place?” He took another step towards you as you asked the question, he was in arm’s reach now, and although him being this close, with his current demeanor would scare anyone else, but not you, for some reason, it excited you.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d do something about it, see if you’d let me have my way with you, or if you actually hate me.” He shrugged as he stared down at you, his eyes burning into yours, his tone calm and steady as he spoke. “I wanted to see if you’d stop me from kissing you, or if you wanted me to.”

“And if I did?” You asked, and for a few seconds, you felt like you fucked up by saying that sentence, his response though was what made your stomach drop.

“God… I hate you (Y/N)…”. He muttered quietly, and it seemed so genuine, so full of disgust that it made your heart ache. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could utter a word, his hands quickly made their way to the back of your head and the nap of your neck, before pulling you into him, and slamming his lips against yours.

It almost didn’t feel real, it didn’t process in your head for a few seconds, but once your mind caught up, you melted into his touch. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands went up to rest on his chest, slowly sliding up to go around his neck to deepen the kiss, a small moan escaped from your mouth as his hands started to travel down, stopping at your hips, his fingers squeezing them lightly before pulling pulling your body closer to his. Your head was swimming, your body hot all over, your knees felt weak, and your heart was pounding in your ears. He was so intoxicating. He’s lips, his touch, the was he groaned against your mouth as you brought your hands up to run your fingers through his dark brown hair. In that moment, you finally understand that the reason you felt like your body was on fire anytime you were around him wasn't because you hated or disliked him, you realized it was actually because you really did have some sort of misplaced feeling for him. After all, there is a very thin line between love and hate.

You felt like you could be like this forever, Miguel felt the same way, but, unfortunately, you were still human, so you found yourself pulling away to gasp for oxygen. Both your chest were heaving, Miguel’s pupils were blown, and you had to wipe some drool from the corner of your lips. A silence engulfed you too for a few seconds as you both attempt to catch your breath and slow down your heart rates. After a minute or two, Miguel’s lips pulled up into a smirk, and you internally groaned and forced yourself not to roll your eyes, because you knew he was gonna say some stupid shit to ruin the moment.

“Still hate me?” Oh. My. God. This time you let your eyes roll and the groan escape your lips, Miguel just chuckled at your reaction, before pulling you close once again and leaving a lingering kiss on your lips once more. But this time the kiss was different, unlike the last one, that was ruff and messy and full of lust. This kiss was more caring, more sweet, loving almost. This only made your heart burst more.

“I should go… my break is almost up…” you say in a low whisper as soon as he breaks the kiss, you’re faces still close together as you stare up at him. You’re words made his smile fall a bit.

“We should talk about-“ He started and you already knew what he was going to say before he had time to finish the sentence.

“We will.” You swiftly cut him off. “Just not right now okay?” You asked him, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs but begrudgingly nodded his head, and you noticed how he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “Cute…” You thought as felt your lips pull up into a small smile. “I’ll see you around.” You finished before unlocking the door and leaving the room to go back to the ice.

—

“What’s got you smiling so much?” Logan asked with a raised brow as you both stepped back on the ice.

“Nothing important.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @migueloharaspookiebear @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @patchesofwork

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Parent night at school

PAIRING | Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | Bucky organized a parent night at school to talk about the progress of the kids. This time you're invited too, and you can't wait to see the man you fell for. When you get there, you and Bucky are having a great time until Anna calls with the fact that Luca just got sick. You feel bad about cutting the time you have with Bucky short, but he doesn't mind, he knows how important Luca is to you.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mention of period blood, Luca being sick (nothing explicit mentioned).

A/N | This one shot is part of my Teachers Universe AU, but can be read as part of the story, or a standalone one shot! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AU Masterlist

Today is going to be a long day, and you're not exactly ready for it but you have to get going regardless. It all started when you woke up and you saw that you got your period and the sheets were stained with blood. ''You've got to be kidding me,'' you said when you saw, and the first thing you did is strip your bed and throw it into the washing machine before hopping in the shower and cleaning yourself up. You should've seen it coming since you're on birth control, but that doesn't take away the fact that you still despise it with every fiber of your being.

Today is the one day in the week you have class, so you have to bring Luca to school before getting to class and it is usually a pretty close call, but now you're afraid you're going to be straight up late. You text Shanna, your classmate, that you're most likely going to be late for the first period (no pun intended), but you will try and hurry regardless. She sends a quick response that it's okay and you should just take it easy but you can't. Not when you know you're going to see Bucky again tonight. You haven't seen him apart from dropping Luca off and picking him up again at school, so you're excited to have at least a little alone time with him.

You put on a simple outfit that is comfortable enough for school, but also nice enough to see Bucky in later tonight before getting Luca ready for school. ''Mornin' Bubba, are you ready for breakfast?'' you ask him as you're packing your school books and laptop into your backpack, and packing Luca's backpack afterward. ''Hi, Mom. I'm ready!'' he says and you give him a bowl of cereal since you don't have that much time this morning. He quickly eats it as you eat a banana to quench some of your hunger, you figured you'd just eat some more during class. Just when you're about to run out the door your phone goes off, but you decide to ignore it for now.

Traffic is surprisingly light this morning which means you're at Luca's school sooner than expected, and you might be on time for your first class after all. ''Good morning Mr. Barnes!'' Luca says happily as he runs into the classroom and towards his table. ''Good morning Luca!'' he says. ''Hi Y/N, you look good!'' he says and you thank him softly. ''I'm sorry, I have to hurry otherwise I'll be late for school. Would you mind if I bring dinner tonight to our scheduled time? I won't have time for dinner between school and coming here. Also, Anna will be picking him up this afternoon,'' you say and he nods. ''Sounds good, can't wait to see you tonight,'' he says with a wink and you run back to your car.

The drive to your school is also relatively okay and you park with a few minutes to spare. You run to class and just when the time reaches 8:30 you set foot inside the classroom, and you're still on time. ''Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N,'' your professor says, and you say your greeting out of breath as you're sitting down next to Shanna. ''Thank god I made it. Traffic was light so that's why I was able to make it, otherwise I would've been late,'' you sigh as you get out your laptop and textbooks. The first few classes go by quickly and before you know it it's lunch time.

You and some of your classmates find a picnic table outside to eat your lunch, and just when you're about to take a bite of your sandwich you receive a text from Bucky. You completely forgot about the text this morning and you only now noticed you didn't reply.

Bucky 🎓 - I can't wait to see you again tonight, one of the parents canceled so you will be the last one of the evening. We will have all the time to catch up 😉

Bucky 🎓 - Is everything okay? I'm sorry if I overstepped this morning, I'm just excited to see you again!

Y/N 🩷 - You didn't overstep this morning, I should be the one who's sorry! I can't wait to see you again tonight either. I missed you way too much ever since our date =(

Bucky 🎓 - Thank god, I was really worried I did something wrong. You can just bring whatever you fancy for dinner tonight, just make sure to order more than enough since we're both going to be hungry after a long day of school 😘

You were so wrapped up in texting Bucky that you didn't notice the fact that your classmates were all looking at you like there was something on your face. ''Can I help you guys with anything?'' you laugh and they quickly shake their heads. ''No, nothing's wrong. We're all just wondering who got you smiling like the Joker. You smile any wider and your face will split in two,'' Jason said and you shake your head. ''Just someone I know. I'm not willing to spill any details with you all just yet,'' you say and now they keep bugging you about it until you finally cave.

''OKAY, okay! I'll tell you, but you can't be weird about it. A few weeks ago I went on a date with this great guy, but the problem is that he is Luca's teacher, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. He's amazing and he loves kids - which is a huge bonus. He's also a true gentleman, like the complete opposite of my ex-husband and he makes me feel loved, and like I deserve to be treated like he treats me, but it's just the fact that he's my son's teacher I can't quite get past,'' you sigh, but they're all ecstatic for you.

''Let me get this straight. You're seeing a guy who is treating you like an absolute queen, who probably has the best dick you've ever seen to have you all giddy like that, AND he loves kids? Girl, I get that he's Luca's teacher, but if I were you I would have locked him down ages ago!'' Jess says, and it makes you blush. ''Well, if you say it like that...'' you say, and before anyone can answer the bell rings, notifying that lunch is over and you have more classes. By the time it is 5 PM your last class of the day starts and it is supposed to be done by 6 PM, yet it is 6:30 PM and you're still not on your way to see Bucky, instead you're still working hard due to the assignment that has to be finished before you're allowed to go.

You quickly shoot Bucky a text that you'll be late and you're bringing Italian food, and he just replies with a quick thumbs up. Finally, it is 6:50 PM and you're allowed to go, so you hurry to your car and on your way to pick up dinner to see Bucky. It is 7:45 PM by the time you're finally at Luca's school, and your appointed time was at 7 PM. You rush into Bucky's classroom and he looks up at the sounds of you running in completely out of breath. ''Hi doll, you finally made it I see!'' he laughs and you nod. Bucky was preparing for tomorrow's lessons so it was fine that you're late, this way he didn't have to do it in the morning.

''C'mere,'' he says as he pulls you by your waist towards him, giving you a kiss which you immediately melt into. ''How's my favorite girl doing?'' he asks and you sigh. ''I'm extremely tired and hungry, but besides that I'm good,'' you tell him and he smiles. ''You?'' ''Better now that I'm finally having dinner with you again,'' he says and you just smile. ''Kiss-ass,'' you mutter under your breath, but he heard you perfectly fine. ''How can I not be when yours is absolute perfection?'' he says with a straight face as he gets out the pasta you brought.

When the two of you were eating, he discussed Luca's progress in class - he's doing very well and is even further than the rest on some of the subjects -until you were getting a call. You immediately knew you wouldn't like whoever was calling you, but you decided to pick up regardless. ''Anna, is everything okay?'' you ask, and she doesn't do much to reassure you. ''Hi, sorry to bother you on your parent night. I'm not sure, Luca isn't feeling well and I'm not sure what's wrong with him,'' she says, the worry laced thick in her voice. ''It's okay, I'm coming. I should be there in no more than 30 minutes,'' you say as you hang up.

''I'm so sorry, Bucky, but Anna just called that Luca isn't feeling well and she can't seem to figure out what's wrong. Do you mind if we have a do-over of dinner in a few days?'' you ask as you gather your stuff. ''No, of course not. Luca is more important, so you should be there for him. He needs his mom more than I do,'' he says with a wink, and you feel relieved that he understands. ''I'm so sorry again, but thank you for understanding,'' you tell him as you walk up to him for another kiss. ''Gonna miss you, but I will see you tomorrow morning I hope,'' you tell him, and he happily pulls you in for a kiss. ''Can't wait to see you again, doll,'' he says before he lets you go and sinks back into his chair. Can't wait to be buried inside you, either, he thinks to himself, a small smile playing on his lips.

[1kook]

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.  WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

Doyeon says you have fat fingers, and Jungkook takes great offense at that. “Who cares about the size— __ has pretty hands, idiot,” he mutters, and almost wants to feel bad about being so childish in the middle of this jewelry store. But Kim Doyeon is a pest— a fly who just won’t stop buzzing by his ear with each ring they look at, and she has the audacity to look disgusted with him now. Jungkook very much regrets inviting her along. She exudes very similar energy to the popular girls he used to go to high school, the ones that would only talk to him because he was friends with Namjoon and wanted Jungkook to help them into his pants. Lo and behold, Kim Doyeon is very acquainted with whatever’s inside Namjoon’s pants. She hits the mark perfectly. 

“Oh, definitely get her a rock. Like, one of those obnoxiously bing and shiny rings, maybe?” And she never stops talking. 

Jungkook hasn’t had to spend this much time with her in months, the last time being Namjoon’s birthday when you had tasked the two of them to go pick up the cake together. Not only was Doyeon adamant on passenger-seat driving — “Turn here,” she says a moment too late, “no wait, here — but she had been an absolute heathen outside in the bakery parking lot. 

(“Okay, now take a picture of me by this wall,” she says, artfully holding up the box of cake in two hands, dark hair flipped over her shoulder. Jungkook doesn’t know how to tell her that there is no significant difference between this brick wall and the brick wall they just took a picture by two minutes before.)

Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. It would be him and Namjoon, and maybe Namjoon’s blunt roommate Jimin if he was feeling down for it, but that was pretty much it. Even Taehyung, a very close and dearly cherished friend, had not made the cut. He was too lazy, didn’t offer much concrete advice other than the occasional, “that one looks cool” comment. 

The great thing about Namjoon is that he’s highly educated on just about every aspect of life; he knows the best hairstylists — “You can always ask Hobi,” Namjoon offers, “he’s married.” — and the best lawyers — “Oh, and Yoongi can help with your prenup.” — for no reason other than the fact he is Namjoon. 

The bad thing about Namjoon is that he’s dead set on including Doyeon. “Doyeon is ___’s best friend,” he says calmly one night after dinner. You’re at your friend’s house this weekend, something about a midnight revenge plot against a shitty ex-boyfriend. He isn’t too clear on the details. “You have to let her in on it.” It’s been decades since Jungkook last stomped his foot in annoyance, but the urge wells up strongly in him now. 

Jimin is on the couch. “Oooh, you don’t like her?” he asks, flipping his platinum hair away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t answer, only because it would be rude to confirm it in front of Namjoon. Jimin presses on. “Is she, like, an evil best friend?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says at the same time Namjoon says, “no.” Jimin’s got this highly intrigued smirk on his face, and Jungkook hates how similar it is to your own mischievous grins. He’s glad you haven’t met Jimin, mostly because he knows you have your mean moments and meeting Park Jimin would only exacerbate them. Namjoon frowns anyway. 

Jimin says, “oh, you guys should duel. Like, whoever knows __ the best gets to keep her.” 

Namjoon jumps to stop that thought. “No— they’re not gonna duel, Jimin. ___ isn’t an object to win,” he scolds, and Jungkook nods along agreeingly, pretends he hadn’t seriously considered Jimin’s idea for a solid ten seconds. 

Long story short, Doyeon has tagged along to this jeweler and the past two jewelers to make sure Jungkook doesn’t give you “an ugly ring,” as she claims. 

“Wait, what if you get her this one,” she says, on the other side of the store. Jungkook sighs, but hurries over anyway. Hey, he’s here to see some rings, okay? 

Doyeon is looking at the most ugly ring Jungkook has ever seen, a mix of a braid and a snake, that is just too… not you. “This is hideous,” he says, disregarding all and any notions of being polite because at this point, she had to be pulling his leg. “___ would hate this.” 

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “Oh, ‘cause you know ___ sooo well, don’t you?” she snarks. 

Jungkook levels her with a glare. “I do, actually,” he says, “that’s literally what made me want to marry her.” And because Kim Doyeon sparks a very immature flame within him, he feels the need to add, “I probably know ___ better than you,” to top it off. 

Doyeon scoffs. “No, you don’t— you will never know her like I do, you overgrown fungus,” she spits. “Me and ___ have exceeded any level of trust you could ever hope to have, a friendship forged on the grounds of love and equal values. A nerd like you can’t even begin to fathom the absolutely crazy shit we’ve shared with each other.” 

If he was eight years younger, Jungkook is certain he would have gone home and cried. Mid-twenties Jungkook, on the other hand, has had one too many rodeos with mean girls — he’s dating a retired high school cheerleader, for goodness sake, an apex predator if he’s ever seen one — and will not stand for it. Besides, Jungkook has received your blessing to check Doyeon into place if ever she crosses the line. 

(“Sometimes you just gotta knock her down, maybe call her a dumbass if necessary,” you had said one night after Doyeon had unceremoniously barged into your apartment to monopolize your evening plans with Jungkook. Now it’s nearing midnight and as much as Jungkook wants to spend time with you, he’s deathly tired. “Just tell her off.” 

Jungkook frowns, snuggles closer until he’s so tightly pressed against your body that he can’t tell whose heartbeat is whose. He likes it like that.

There’s just something about your annoying best friend that activates this feeling in Jungkook’s chest. If anything, Jungkook imagines it is similar to that of having a bratty little sister. But Doyeon as his sister? He rolls his eyes so far back he swears he sees his own brain. 

It’s childish and petty and unlike Jungkook — or at least, unlike the Jungkook he knows you think he is. Which is flattering, to be thought of so highly, but sometimes Jungkook wonders where on earth you got that idea from. Because whenever he’s around you, Jungkook becomes increasingly immature, grows so greedy and needy, desperate for anything you have to give him. 

And because he’s so immature, he settles on tattling to you instead, “she called me a sweaty meat bag,” to which you snort in amusement.) 

For now, he calls on the spirit of the most mature person he knows (Namjoon). Jungkook takes one last look at his millionth silver band of the day before turning to address the Wicked Witch of the West. “I might not know ___ like you do, but that’s fine,” he says calmly. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together anyway.” 

In front of him, Doyeon’s eye twitches and Jungkook senses he has won. For now. See, the thing is, Jungkook knows that using Namjoon-level logic against her is foolproof. For one, Namjoon’s logic is always solid. But also, as much as Jungkook despises Kim Doyeon with nearly every fiber in his being… ultimately, they share a common interest: cherishing you. 

Had it not been for your existence in their lives, Jungkook doubts he would have ever spent his Saturday morning at a jeweler with the likes of Kim Doyeon, especially not after she had spent ten minutes in the Starbucks drive-thru ordering the most bizarrely complicated drink. But deep in his heart Jungkook knows that she loves you, though not as much as him, and he respects the fact she is willing to accompany him in the name of buying you a beautiful engagement ring. It’s a friendship solidarity he admires, and for that he stomps down his childish pride to answer in a way that would impress, well, you. 

(Even when you’re not here, Jungkook always wants to impress you.)

At his side, Doyeon huffs. “I should’ve never taken ___ to that party.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

[janumun]

The Pirate's Symbol(s): NSFW Alphabet [IkeSen Motonari]

Game: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Motonari/Female Reader

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 2.5k

Warnings: stockings fetish, spoilers for Motonari’s ‘condition’, sexual intercourse, mentions of exhibitionism/semi-public sex, (non-sexual) bondage, innuendoes and dirty-talk, masturbation

Author’s Notes: Motonari’s entire self is a joy, his route gave me some much needed, invigorating enemies-to-lovers, and I officially love him! [Totally swiped my heart right up without warning!]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Motonari is quick — you’d almost say adept — at sweeping off a cloth, or container, placed by your bedside. Although, your touch and whatever fire you generate in between the two of you does not bother him, he does prefer you both cleaner of the mess and fluids when holding you close in his arms, afterwards.

Wiping up the remnants of your passionate and, often vigorous, activities off of quivering thighs he presses apart, in gentle strokes of damp fibers. Movements of the cloth soft enough it doesn’t shock you into over-sensitivity but not soft enough you relax entirely beneath him, because that scarlet gaze is always fixated on you — your body language. And if you give away even an inch, he’s ready and up for round two (or four). [Bless yer stamina, matey!]

If not, he’s still up and happy to listen to his favorite flower-brained woman’s amusing, outrageous tales she narrates in animated conversation. While he whisks up a quick, invigorating meal for her at the kitchen counter, just as she rests her happy self at the table. Garnet gaze seemingly fixated upon the task at hand — spices being tossed, ladle being stirred, eggs whipped to perfection — but his answers are prompt and alert, although still carrying that insouciant edge. Indicating his attention; equal division in between feeding you and hearing you speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Motonari is fond of his mouth, and before you, he didn’t think of it as much of an achievement as he believes it now, when your jittery gaze seeks immediate relief (and lust) as soon as it lands upon that obvious smirk.

A single kiss and your thoughts are all but handed over to him on an elaborate platter. Your cheeks color dark and wide; restless eyes tracing across his mouth. Your own parting; pink tongue darting quick in a swipe across plush lips: all of you demanding more of him.

Yes, he is surprisingly (or not), in touch with a far more emotional side: Motonari adores your eyes, although you’re never hearing it from him. Your entire body speaks of honesty but the way he reads your thoughts so easy, in your gaze, there’s quite nothing as exhilarating or confounding as the love he captures in them. That quick, tight knot of your brow, your anger flaring in your eyes or the equally prompt melting, when he appeases you in gentle teases. He’s been so long used to not trusting that a person he sees this clearly through, and sees how she trusts; it’s not an entirely terrible thing to feel.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As mentioned above, the man doesn’t particularly care to leave you a mess post-coitus unless you ask it of him; there is little he’s able to refuse you. So when it does come (…heh) to cumming outside of your pussy, your mouth is a pretty (very pretty too) good substitute for him to ejaculate, without having to think of leaving external stains on you. Your throat clamping, then swallowing, around his orgasm, so he feels that slick slide of saliva and semen around him, as you moan.

Yer pretty darn hot, m’lady.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he descends — quick and furious — into an almost juvenile state of petty jealousy [he realizes the immaturity of it, he just cannot! help! it!] and ends up turning that lust on you, instead.

He’d never actually do it but visualizing — in almost exact, murderous details — how he’d like to drag you into an empty room whenever Kicho gets all up in your face, and fuck you so hard your throat tears through screams lough enough Kicho hears each and every single sound and moan.

Or, clasp your chin in his fingers, whenever Hideyoshi’s a little too close for comfort at an Oda banquet, and kiss you senseless and noisy [pirates crave a flashy exhibition!].

He despises making a show of you to anybody, so that idea only stays in thoughts but also it’s mind-boggling, since it does get him hard on the spot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, it was only ever through terrible necessity (extremely dire straits) that he — if ever and very sparing — sought casual sex. The occasions hadn’t been plenty and he’d be frighteningly specific about how he wanted to take a woman to bed.

Bathed, no make-up, no perfume, no scented products or jewelry — anything extra that he could accidentally touch and trigger a reaction. A clean, unscented futon he’d provide in a bare room. Any bonds or cloths he could get his hands on (buying his own and discarding immediately after), to tie their limbs, keep their movements limited; Motonari used.

Of course, there’d be the rare prostitute who’d drop immediately after visiting a client, or one who’d perceive his conditions extreme and over-the-top and think they could ‘change his mind’. The moment they’d try and cross the line, he’d fling them off, almost violently, heart racing, sweat marking each inch of exposed skin. Nauseous and barely tapped, before he’d stride out of the room.

He’s also witnessed open and perverse brothels — and corrupt seething dens — where men and women fuck, for all to see, in his line of work, so he’s no stranger to how sex works for others either.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s learning to let go and touch (just you) without the added barrier of gloves and since you so seem fond of his hands on you, Motonari likes any positions that allow his hands to move your body upon his; he isn’t picky.

Palms curved upon your hips so that your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he pulls back, the movements of his cock into and out of your pussy — a place you are both connected and he likes that. Or even when he can spread your thighs wide, press them apart before hooking his hands over your abdomen and just focusing on moving.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pirate he’s a vortex of a man and slips all over the spectrum. Motonari’s goading is far softened with minimum barbs, when he’s in(side you) in bed with you. More velvet — than leathery — questions, soft smirk-y and probing,: “Ya like that, flower girl?” —as his mouth hovers just close to your ear, nose barely touching and tucking sweat soaked strands away from your temple. Definitely lands firm and midway between too serious and entirely silly. But he’s all focus on you, make no mistake.

He’s still got a filthy mouth on him, but dirty romantic liners are more his style, in bed (he wants you warmed as well as turned on!), in contrast to the complete indecent filth he threatens you with (a good time!) when the two of you are out and about.

“Pipe down, m’lady. The way yer moaning, they’re gonna think I’m fucking ya, right on deck.” Those eyes are burnished rubies; smile wide, crooked and unashamed, as he ducks close. “But maybe ya feel like putting on a show.”

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean down below (and silver-haired, yes) — he doesn’t go the ‘complete waxed up, no-hair in sight’ route, but rather prefers keeping his hair short-trimmed and well-groomed.

He’s also kept his pubic hair short and neat, for the rare occasions he does have sex, and an unkempt mass down there would leave him more likely and exposed to his partner’s fluids staying on him. He despises that.

Motonari doesn’t mind blood, dirt and grime on the field, nor the brine of the harsh sea sticking to his skin, but as soon as he’s done with — or in between — jobs, he takes the time to wash and clean himself up thoroughly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

[Also see G=Goofy] Motonari isn’t short with words of love. He isn’t reciting romantic poems but he is quick to let you know, in exact words, how much he loves you — and is loving being inside you — in the moment. Barriers definitely lower themselves — not all down, not completely back up — with this man, in bed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

(As also mentioned in E=Experience) the man, previously, has sought intimacy only and only out of desperate necessity and when his hand is just not enough for him to relieve himself of his lust. Motonari, before you, jacked off, multiple times within a week, sometimes thrice (or more) in a single day. His desires, usually amped, following a particularly unsatisfying battle or raid.

After you, he still does take time off for some self-lovin’ (remember: stamina for daaays, and you’re mostly unable to match him so he makes do), just not as much as he used to, in the past.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You and Motonari share a love for (clothing) imports from the seas beyond. He’s always up for sharing and discussing trade secrets, doling out clothing advice and helping you work out modern clothing from whatever fabrics are available to you.

Stockings might be one of his favorite products.

The fabric feeling absolutely exquisite against his palms when he rounds you close into his grasp, stood in between his spread thighs as he observes and hums beneath you, seated. A harmless joke you make, about a stocking fetish and the ensuing explanation soon after, has him grinning and dragging you down to test the material against his teeth.

“Yer sayin’ I got a thing for yer fancy underclothes? Heh, don’t think so. Seeing you in it just makes me wanna tear it all off, meu docinho de côco.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you’re afforded privacy; although a little flirting with danger is good and being pinned in between the door and his body. Watching you try and smother your moans into your sleeves, skews that grin wider, that cock harder.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. He’s got a dirty mind, it’ll do the rest of the work when its got its catalyst: you.

Nothing gets you results faster than being honest with Motonari, or expressing your affections (even chaste) for him.

Tell him he looked especially handsome, earlier on a job out: with his hair slicked back and how hard it was for you to have held back from kissing him, on the spot. That you love him—

He’s on you so fast.

“That brain’s just gotta keep sprouting its flowers, huh.” He murmurs, tugging at your chin to swipe his tongue into you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his treatment of you very early on in his route (the collar, the slavery deal), Motonari’s not into putting a collar on a person, romantic or otherwise. Collaring and hearing you call him your Master wouldn’t do much for him, playful or not.

He’s had to live a great chunk of his life as the Beggar Prince; experienced the devastating dregs of human society, including and not limited to being treated as one inferior, and having to watch people around at the very mercy of corrupt lords.

In retrospect, it isn’t something he might take pleasure in, in the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving or receiving, both take some getting used to within the bedroom. He finds the taste of you pleasant, when he withdraws wet digits from inside you and takes a careful swipe of the clear fluid across his skin. And has expressed interest in, and gone down on you several times.

Receiving gets a bit more gentle coax-y and requires reassurances, with Motonari. He doesn’t particularly like seeing his release all over you. Having to work through those barriers of his mind, but once he allows you, he does enjoy the slow kisses, and the soft slide of your mouth against him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default setting is rough and furious. The two of you are usually frustrated passion by the time you actually get to his bedroom (he likes to prod and poke much too often in public, get you riled) so there’s only one way to go and it’s up. He’s spreading your thighs apart with none too gentle hands as he pushes through and into you, your own hold on him, white knuckled and almost delirious with the way his hips rock into you and his cockhead scraps across your front wall with his onslaught.

At times, however, especially after a high-risk mission; when he’s been close enough to stare Death in the face and survive, he likes to take his time being inside you, just being able to feel you. Once, twice, several times, he’s keeping you beneath, or mounted on top of him, coaxing your hips and your moans.

“Don’t look at me like that, flower girl. I’m alive, ain’t I? Com’ere. I’ll take those tears of yers.”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Definitely! Any time he can have you, or get you close enough in private, you’re going to be fucking each other. He loves those little breathy, moan-laughters you make in half-panic/all arousal, each time he drives up to grind your hips close together, stuffed into a hallway closet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Semi-public quickies are a thing and the closest to risky as he gets. As mentioned previously, he’s demanding enough over you, he doesn’t like men Kicho touching you, let alone hearing you when you sound like that.

Other kinks, most kinks, he’s down to try with his favorite dirty, flower-brained woman. He does however, draw the line at any kinks that might involve him using harsh, ugly words to degrade you or your body and/or being soiled.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

All I gotta say is: Pirate’s got stamina enough to power his ships through horn alone, over an entire week!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys translate to external objects. Which are always subject to germs, and need to be (excessively) cleaned by his standards, to keep them useful and usable. That’s far much more work than he’s usually willing to commit himself to.

And he has no need of them. Not when you respond plenty to his touch alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot! Motonari’s brand of filthy talk is polished to leave you damp in between the legs. He’s pulling the nastiest most wonderful innuendoes out of the most mundane of tasks.

“Ya like that old weapon?” He might ask of you, as you admire the carvings upon the handle of one of his clan’s katana. “Didn’t know ya liked the feel of handlin’ a sword between yer hands that much, m’lady.”

Leaving your mind reeling and cheeks flushing before withdrawing with a, “What’re ya cooking in that flower brain of yers? Heh... you’ve got a dirty mind.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heavy, sensual pants against your ears. His groans and grunts enough to fan the fires of your own arousal, to have you ready to come, from just the sounds that can leave his throat. Motonari doesn’t care to be heard outside your boundaries, but he also doesn’t care to withhold his own sounds of pleasure from you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He almost swears (but will never tell you, in very direct words): the space in between your bare breasts smells almost sweet like flowers. He likes finding his way up and nosing in between your breasts — just skin-to-skin contact at a place he finds you’re at your most fragrant. Suckling and tugging at a nipple draws those moans and your scent more intense, so he nips and teeths around the place often.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

That beautiful cock — with the evidence of just enough silver at the base — is long enough it fits and curves snug into you, without entering into any discomforting places, deep. But he is thick enough, it takes you time (and many times) to not just hold your breath and tighten up around him on reflex, upon entry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

(Read: S)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re almost always the one falling asleep first. Pirates are used to night raids and this one’s no different. He does prefer watching you sleep, late into the night, once you fall exhausted into slumber.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

[smoochkooks]

—hymne a l’amour (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst

⟶ word count: 5.5k

⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.

⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents

this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx

Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.

Overwhelming.

(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)

Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.  

A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.

It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.

You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.  

But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.  

It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.

Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.

Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.  

When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.

(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)

“Babe, I’m home!”

You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”

He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.

“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.

In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good  

(As if they don’t already know.)

See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.

“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”  

You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.

It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.  

“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.

“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.

So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.  

“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.  

You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.  

When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.  

Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.

In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.  

You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.

You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.

Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.

But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.

It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.

Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.

Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.

During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.  

kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove

They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.

But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.

Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.  

Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.  

(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)

An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.  

You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.

“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.  

You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”  

She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.

It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.  

Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.

The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.  

When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.

Never, in your entire life, had you thought  you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.  

(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)

He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.

“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.

It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.

“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.  

(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)

Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)  

“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”

You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.  

But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.

“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.

“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”

“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.

“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.

“I wasn't!” you protest.

“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”  

This stupid brat.

You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.  

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.

When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.

You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.

“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”

You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”  

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.

You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.  

“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.

When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.

“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”  

You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”  

Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”

The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”

Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.

(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)

“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”  

You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”  

He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”  

“That is, in fact, not true.”  

You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.  

“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”  

Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”  

Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.  

There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”  

You nod. “Please, touch me.”  

“Try again.”  

So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.  

You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.  

Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”  

“Good girl.”  

He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.  

He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.  

Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.

“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.  

Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.  

Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”  

You nod. “Yes, sir.”  

He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.  

“Take off my pants.”  

You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.  

“Now my underwear.”  

You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.  

Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”  

Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.  

You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.  

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”  

The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.  

He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.  

“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”  

You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.  

Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”  

Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”  

He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.  

You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.  

“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.  

You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.  

Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.  

“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.  

“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”  

“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.

“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”

“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”  

You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.  

“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”  

You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”  

“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.  

“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.  

You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”  

You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.  

He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”  

He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.  

(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)

Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.

Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.

“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.

He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”

He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.  

Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.

Because you love him. And that's all that matters.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hey! You know they prompt with the m!companions waking up after spending the night with some and don’t find them in the bed? Could you do that with F!!companions too? No pressure! /gen

Female!FO4 Companions react to Waking Up Alone After Spending the Night with Sole.

Sooooo, thank you so much for asking for this, cuz I had written about half of it, and then totally forgotten about it until I got this ask, so you are awesome!

This is the second installment to this post (M!FO4 Companions with this prompt) and there will be a part with FO3 and FONV companions as well... eventually 😅

I hope you all enjoy! (And I sincerely apologize in advance for the ridiculous length of this thing [Cait's in particular], I don't know what happens, I think I have a problem. But I super appreciate all of you who stick around to read it all, each and every one of you have my heart.)

Cait:

     A dull ache persisted in Cait's muscles when she stirred beneath the sheets, she scrunched her eyebrows together as her lids rose to reveal the still dark, still disheveled hotel room. What the hell happened last night? The question briefly flashed across her mind before she recalled it. Recalled everything. Cait groaned, stretching out over the mattress, fully prepared to reunite with her lover, to wake you up in the best of ways, to touch you and be with you the way she had been last night.

Fuck. Last night… How the hell had it taken the two of you so long to do that?

Damn trust issues. Can’t they just leave me alone? Look at the good that happens when ya just let me be.

Last night had been the first time you two had been together, the first time the two of you had been intimate, and open, and honest, and real. For the first time in… hell, as long as she could remember, Cait had been her authentic self. Untainted by the venom she had injected into her veins for so long, unaffected by the liquid crutch she frequently relied on to bar her from facing herself. Even her vast insecurities hadn’t been able to touch her amid the bliss of her night with you. Because you had been authentic too, you weren’t trying to impress her, or pressure her, you didn’t pass judgement on her level of experience, didn’t berate her for her roughness, for engaging in your intimate act the only way she knew how, the only way it had ever happened when someone else initiated it, as it had always been for her. She couldn’t understand it herself, the way you’d been so patient with her, had communicated with her through everything, focused on her comfort, and her pleasure… It was so foreign to her, so unfamiliar in comparison to every other person she had been with. The act she had engaged in so many times before almost felt… new.

“Alright, what do ya say, luv? You still sore, or d’ya want to give it another go?” She shifted abruptly, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she turned to your side of the bed, green eyes glittering with ill intent, before surprise washed over them. Crimson brows rose high over the wide emerald orbs and she felt her nostrils flare unwittingly at the sight of your distinct absence.

Instantly, she wished she hadn’t turned to try and look at you. Wished that she could’ve stayed facing away just a little longer, where she could safely revel in the bliss of your night together without any consequences. She could have gazed out over the ruined hotel room, could have blushed uncharacteristically as she relived last night’s… rearrangement of all the furniture in the room. Could have kept imagining you there beside her, just as sore and worn out, but just as ready to see where this would go next. Now though…

Cait at least had the courtesy to glance around the space surrounding her before making any quick judgements, but the room was a fucking small one, and it took all of a moment to see that she was truly alone in it. Not only that, but everything belonging to you was gone too.

Now this. This shit I remember. This is all too familiar.

Normally she would have been relieved to wake up alone. It always meant she could have some peace, that she could wake up on her own terms, without harassment or expectation, without prying hands roughly dragging her from her dreams and slamming her back down into her nightmarish reality. But with you… shit was different. Even more painful than waking up next to someone she feared and despised was waking up without you by her side. The truth was like a flaming brand being pressed mercilessly to her chest, making plain to herself and everyone around her that she was hurt. That you had hurt her. She never thought the day would come.

Cait had come to the realization last night that you might be the only person who’s put her before yourself, who’s done something kind for her, who’s helped her without expecting anything in return. She came to the realization that she trusted you. More than anyone else in her life, more than Tommy, more than her own damn parents; she thought you were the only person who would never hurt her. The fact that she had been wrong made her want to spit. To curse, and fight the darkness that began to claw its way back into her heart. The same darkness you had helped expel in that vault.

She shook her head vigorously. Red hair catching in her damp eyelashes as she ground her teeth together until they ached. She wanted to scream. But dammit, she wasn’t going to let anyone know that this shit bothered her. Wasn't going to let them pity her at the sight of the hot brand you'd left on her heart when she realized you were gone.

No, she wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t let anyone hear the sounds of anguish spilling from her lips. The walls of the hotel room were paper thin, as the two of you had discovered last night after some… complaints had been issued. But Vadim had been a good sport about it. Cait wished she could look back on the memory fondly, but the glow of her euphoria was tainted red and black. An infected wound festering deep in the pit of her stomach, the hollow of her chest, the recesses of her mind.

Cait tore the blankets from her body, the thin material sticking to her sweat-dampened skin as she clambered off the mattress and began to rage around the room, snatching bits of clothing from their places on the floor and furniture. She roughly jerked up her trousers and buttoned up her corset, the action proving to be difficult as her chest expanded with her ragged inhalations. Through her fury-fogged mind, she tried to come up with a plan. Where would she go now that she didn't have you? Surely you wouldn't return to her after this. You'd gotten what you wanted, apparently; and if she was honest, she'd rather never see your face again after you'd done this to her. Made her feel this way. Made her feel filthy, and angry, and foolish, and used. Cait released a verbal sound of disgust as she threw together the last of her things. Shouldering her pack, she prepared to leave the room. Sorry Yefim, I can't be in here another fucking second. You'll have to put the furniture back yourself.

Cait slammed the hotel room door behind her, brows set low, heart pounding audibly against her chest as she loitered in front of the door, thinking about where to go next. What to do next. She couldn’t return to the combat zone, what would Tommy think? What would he say? She didn’t much care, but she didn’t want to find out either. Without Sole, what the hell was there out there for her? A flash of her potential future crossed her consciousness and she briefly saw herself crammed into some seedy corner of a bar somewhere, offering her muscle in return for some meager bits of tin, which she’d more than likely use to buy herself yet another drink at the next dive she found herself in. A vicious cycle, free of ambition, free of fulfillment, free of enjoyment… and yet, that future was more than she had ever expected for herself just a few short months ago. Back then, she would’ve given her left arm for a chance at that life, because at least she would be free. But now… you had changed everything. Helped her get clean, helped her drag herself out of the chasm her parents had forced her to dig herself into from the moment she was old enough to hold a shovel. She had wanted more for her life since meeting you. Had expected more. By your side, she had had more. And now you’d torn that away from her too, and though she wanted with every raging fiber of her being to be able to prove to you, to everyone, that she didn’t need anyone’s help to achieve that sort of life, she knew that, with you gone, reverting back to her old ways was damn near inevitable. Her jaw clenched at the thought, and she bit back a growl at the pain spreading in her chest.

Fuck this. I need a drink.

She let her hand fall from the doorknob to the now empty hotel room and made her way to the liquor counter at the Dugout Inn. Her expression drove away any potential for conversation as she sat at her stool, knocking back her full glass of whiskey. Even Vadim had stayed quiet, his usual bawdy personality remained muted as he poured her another glass and set it on the counter in front of her.

Even the bittersweet taste of her own reckless self-enablement couldn't expel the burning poison that had settled in her gut since her discovery that you had left her alone. And although she didn't have a single fucking clue what she was going to do next, that didn't seem to be what bothered her, as the whiskey began to cloud her mind and her judgement. No, it wasn't what she was going to do, it was what you were going to do. Where would you go without her? Alright, fine, you'd had your way with her, used her for your pleasure and then ran, but where to? And why do I care so damn much? A small voice asked her in the back of her mind. She decided not to grace its inquiry with a conscious answer.

Instead, she rose from her stool, slammed down a handful of caps on the counter, and half expected Vadim to ask where the room payment was, but he just smiled as he slid his hand over the pile of tin and drew it closer to him, to stash it away behind the bar. It didn't matter that Cait had no idea where she was going, she just had to leave this place. The alcohol that was meant to distract her, to numb the throbbing ache in her chest, only seemed to enhance her pain as her over exaggerated emotions surrounding the night the two of you had shared came pouring to the front of her mind. She was pissed. But not at you anymore. Was it herself? Why would she be pissed at herself? It's not like it was her fault you decided to fucking leave… Or...

Cait shook her head vigorously, pausing at the exit into Diamond City as she tried to straighten her crooked thoughts. Was it something I did? Is that why you left? Was I… not good enough? Too good? Too rough? Too unemotional? God, she sounded so whiney and insecure. Felt so insecure, so vulnerable, so guilty, so filthy.

Still trapped in her troubling thoughts, Cait attempted to finally leave the inn, letting the door slam shut behind her as she set off brusquely towards the gate leading out to the Commonwealth. She hardly noticed the body trailing her, splitting off from the crowd in the city center, and following her at an aggressive pace akin to her own. When the hand grasped at her shoulder, she almost turned around swinging, prepared to knock the teeth out of whoever decided it was a decent idea to fucking touch her right now. But her fist stilled in its clenched position beside her body, as her forest eyes widened in surprise at the person standing in front of her.

You?

You…

You!

Instead of swinging her prepared fist directly into your face, she brought up both arms, shoving them forward harshly against your shoulders, forcing you a few feet backwards, likely bruising you in the process.

"Fuck off, Sole." Was all she could manage before she turned away, back towards the gate. What the hell was she supposed to make of this?! You were gone. But now you were here? It doesn't matter now, because you could never take back the way you made her feel when she woke up alone in that dingy fucking hotel room.

"Hey!" She heard you call from behind, but she pressed on, even as your footsteps echoed behind her.

"Cait, wait! Just hold on a second. Where are you going?" Even when words failed you, it seemed the stubbornness she admired so much prevailed, as you gruffly wrenched her to the side, pulling her into the alcove behind the Publick Occurrences building.

"I can explain."

Cait wrenched her arm from your grasp, attempting to turn away, her emerald eyes blazing as they refused to acknowledge you.

"Cait, please. I swear, I was coming right back. I wasn't going to just--" you tried to explain, but she silenced you with her searing look as her head lashed towards you once more.

"I thought I told you to fuck off. Ya can't justify this shite to me, Sole. I know what the hell you were playin’ at. You fucking used me, and if that's all ye kept me round for, then you can just leave me alone. Ye got what ye wanted, didn't ya?” Your mouth hung open as you waited to get a word in, but the redhead continued, a menacingly somber expression creasing the lines of her face, “At least the assholes that used me before did it because I was their slave. You actually had me thinkin' you cared about me.” She said quietly, her gaze falling to the floor as the weight of her realization fell upon her.

“Well, you can forget I was ever even here. I'm done." Her eyes snapped back to yours before she went to turn away from you once again.

You were rendered momentarily speechless by her accusations. You wondered how the hell she couldn't know how you felt about her, especially after last night. You thought you'd made it pretty damn clear.

You didn't speak, you needed to use action now, as she started towards the gate, you reached out your hand, grasping firmly at her upper arm and wrenching her towards you. Into you. And even as she tried to pull away, to tear herself from your firm grip, you pulled her in for a kiss. It was sloppy, your teeth clacked together painfully and your mind began to demand why you'd done it at all, but as you pulled away from it quickly, you knew why. As Cait recovered from the surprise contact, you finally managed to get a few words in.

"I do care about you." You told her, your forceful hold on her arm giving way to a more gentle, but still unyielding, touch. "I wasn't trying to leave you. I had to speak to Arturo about that mod I wanted to get for your shotgun, remember? He said we had to do it before he opened, but you were still asleep. I-- I didn't want to wake you. I was coming right back, Cait. I would never leave you, never use you like that. I'm not like them, I could never-- I just, God, do you really think I could do that to you?" Cait's eyes met your own, the emerald fires in their depths wavering to smoldering coals as she saw the hurt shining in your gaze. Your upturned brows, the concern etched into your features, your soft touch on her arm being pulled away slowly; Cait could see the pain in your every movement, the pain at her accusation, and the pain at realizing what little she thought of herself.

Even just a moment ago, her answer would have been different, but at the desperation in you eyes, your will for her to see the truth behind your words, she couldn't bring herself to say what her mind wanted her to. What, after so many years of abuse and horror and mistrust, it had defaulted to saying in the event that anyone could actually tell her they cared for her. Her mind wanted to deny your confession the same way it denied any kind words that were directed towards her, in order to protect her heart from another brutal beating, but this time, it was her heart that seemed to prevail.

"No." She said softly, "I guess I didn't think ye could do that to me. Can't ya see? That's what made it hurt so damn much. I never thought you'd do that shite to me. And then, when I woke up an you were gone, I just… It just didn’t make any fuckin’ sense." She brought a hand up to wipe at her face, maybe to hide the lower lip that began to tremble at her words. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t you even think about it, ya damn baby. Cait tore her hand away, looking to you for some kind of response as she tried to harden her expression once more.

“I’m so sorry, Cait." You told her, taking one of her hands in your own to punctuate everything you had to say, "It’ll never happen again. I swear. I never want to hurt you ever again.”

The brawler felt a lightness in her chest at your words, words that she had never heard anyone say to her before, as you promised something so alien to her ears that she almost thought she had heard you wrong. She felt her heartbeat pick up as her eyes met yours again, the fire all but subdued as the weight of what you’d said sunk in. You promised to never hurt me... She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something.

“Yeah? Well, it had better not happen again.” You grinned at that, releasing a breath of amusement and relief as Cait's own half-smile played at her lips. “Alright lassie/lad, care fer a drink? I think I might need another after all this.” She pulled her hand from your grasp and encircled your shoulders with her arm as she started off towards the Dugout Inn once again.

“Another?” You asked, brows raised, and the woman beside you just chuckled.

Curie:

     Goose prickles peppered uncomfortably over Curie’s exposed skin as a chill ran through her body. Being cold was a sensation that she was still quite unused to; however, even from her limited experience, she had to say, she wasn’t a fan. Curie let out a soft whine as she shifted beneath the thin blanket that snaked around her body, reaching out one arm to slide over the mattress in search of you, and your warmth.

“Mon Dieu?” She ventured softly, eyes still half closed as she peered around the hills of fabric upon the mattress. Sitting up, Curie rubbed at her sleep-filled eyes, still groggy from her hours of rest. Yet another human tendency that I must become more accustomed to. Her hands dropped to her lap as she turned her head to either side, eyebrows creasing together in confusion at the realization that she was alone.

“Sole?” She called, her uncertainty making her voice higher than usual. Perhaps you have gone to relieve yourself, as humans often tend to do after sleeping... Curie stretched her arms upwards before gathering the covers around her, effectively cocooning herself atop your bed, and sat waiting for you to return. Her eyes moved slowly as she took in the room around her. She had hardly gotten a good look last night, and before this, she had never been here before. At least, had never been in your room, but from what she could see in the dim light, it was pretty similar to the others. Curie thought that she never would return to Vault 81, considering the amount of time she had spent here, she figured she had had her fill of the place, but when the radiation storm hit, and the vault was the closest shelter you could think of, she couldn’t argue with the logic of the two of you waiting out the storm here. And she was glad she hadn’t tried. If she had insisted on taking shelter elsewhere, who knows what would have happened? You could have developed radiation sickness, or encountered some form of hostilities, or been stuck wandering and searching for shelter elsewhere all night long! But you hadn’t, no, the two of you had instead done other things all night long.

Curie's spine tingled as she noticed her heart skip a beat in her chest, and she felt her eyes crinkle up as she grinned, clutching the bed sheets tightly in her hands at the thought of the night you two had shared. The way your soft, sweet lips had pressed to hers, giving way to a cacophony of glorious, and thrillingly unfamiliar sensations. She recalled a gentleness, a sort of calm before the storm; dipping her toe into a pool of water, before wading in up to her knees, only to delve straight into the swirling, tumbling sea without a second glance back to the shore.

She had wanted, more than anything, to experiment in such a way with you, but she had been so unsure with how to proceed. So, when you had pressed your lips to hers gently in the night, and whispered that you wanted to do with her what she had been dreaming of since she first laid her human eyes upon you, Curie could barely contain her enthusiasm. All she wanted now was to be close to you once more, to discuss all that she had learned last night. About herself, and about you; but not because she wished to document it. No, this was not for research purposes, as she had once thought it would be, for there was nothing clinical about what the two of you had done together. At least, not in Curie’s eyes. To her, it was much, much more than a science. It was a feeling. It was… more, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but something that made her stomach drop and her heart leap in her chest. Is it… could it be what they call… love?

It felt like hours that Curie was sitting there on the bed, awaiting your return. The time was comparable to the near 200 years she had spent alone on the other side of this very same vault. The synth found herself feeling conflicted about a number of things in this instance. She wasn't sure how she felt about Vault 81 anymore. She thought she couldn't stand the place before; however, last night she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world, but now, she couldn't wait to leave this place and go out to find you. She felt as though, if she stayed, she would be unable to leave once again, held here in this spot for another couple centuries; and maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if you were here with her, but… That was yet another item on her agenda of conflicting emotions to consider. Here Curie sat, completely alone, feeling as though she may be in love for the first and only time in her existence and you were just… gone. This was arguably the most important discovery she had ever made, and she wanted nothing more than for you to be here to help her make sense of this breakthrough of hers. Curie felt as though she had finally reached the level of inspiration required to achieve something great in the field of science, and it was all because of you. But she was still… confused? She couldn't imagine your reason for leaving, had she done something wrong? She had never done anything like this before, so it wouldn't be entirely surprising if she hadn't been particularly skilled in the acts of intimacy, but she certainly had felt good enough… had you not? Or perhaps this was customary for people to do after their first time being together in such a way? If that was the case, Curie would need an explanation as to why it had to be this way. Why you had to be gone when she felt she needed to be near you so urgently.

At that moment, Curie decided she needed to get out of this room, to look for you, yes, but also to prove to herself that she could, in fact, leave any time that she wished. To prove to herself that she wasn't going to be imprisoned here again. Curie sucked in a breath as she uncovered her bare body and exposed her skin to the chill of the recycled vault air. Quickly, she found her garments, some scattered on the floor, others wrapped in the mess of covers on the bed; and her theory regarding your disappearance was further confirmed as she found none of your own clothes in the places you had left them last night. She released a shaky breath, mumbling incoherently to herself as she often did in stressful situations, as she packed her bag in preparation to leave the vault. When she went to reach for the laser pistol that you had gifted her when she had become a synth, she noticed something that didn't quite add up. Your bag was still near the door… so perhaps, you hadn't left the vault after all? Curie's heart leaped in her chest, and in that next moment, she had dropped her travel bag, and was quickly moving towards the door that led out into the common area of the vault. As the doors slid to a close behind her, Curie's head whipped from side to side, aqua eyes passing over the monochrome hallways as she sought you out, searching for a 111 rather than an 81 among the sea of blue suits. Her eyes came to rest toward the elevator as she heard it grinding downwards, and she started towards it expectantly at the sound, before pausing abruptly when she heard her name being called from behind.

Her head swung back around to see you jogging towards her from the far end of the vault, a flush at your cheeks and a small smile decorating your sweet lips.

"And where are you running off to?” You said as you reached the synth, “You couldn't possibly leave me after--"

"Mon cheri! I was missing you this morning!" Curie's words echoed loudly off the steel walls surrounding the two of you as her excitement forced the words from her mouth at an unreasonable volume for your close proximity. Her relief at seeing you left her utterly unashamed at the blatant enthusiasm she had for your return. So much so, that she was even feeling bold enough to close the space between the two of you, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she buried her head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting and familiar scent. You only just had time to return her embrace before she pulled away, her arms unraveling around your neck as she brought both hands up to caress your face. Her bright eyes seemed to glitter as they peered deeply into your own, her elated expression infectious as her thumbs stroked over your cheeks gently. Curie opened her mouth, as though she were about to speak, but when your gaze fell to rest upon her parted lips, she couldn't help but lean forward until she felt your mouth on her own. The kiss was sweet and soft, expelling Curie's chill as the contact warmed her from the inside out. As you pulled away slowly, still a little baffled by the sudden contact, you opened your eyes in time to notice her fluttering lashes and pink dusted cheekbones as a flustered grin spread onto her face.

"What timing you have, mon amour," she said, eyes still locked to yours, "I so urgently felt the need to speak to you, for I have just made zhe most brilliant discovery!"

Piper:

     Piper had never had a dream like that before. It had felt so real. It left her flustered and out of breath as she stirred groggily among the blankets in the loft of her Diamond City home. 

She could still feel the warmth of another's skin pressed against hers, taste the salt of sweat on her lips, feel the shuddering jolt of her pleasure shooting up her spine. It all felt so genuine, so memorable, it was as though… No. It couldn’t be… with you? 

As Piper dipped into her post-slumber conscious reality, she felt a distinct soreness in her body that nearly confirmed her sub-conscious assumption. But she had to know for sure. Piper imagined she would have to wrench open her eyes in order to verify her prediction, but as she took a deep breath in through her nose, and your familiar scent, accompanied by the distinct musty smell that happened to permeate the room after such activities occurred made itself known, she couldn’t have kept her eyes closed if she had tried. 

They flew open as an excited squeak escaped her, and she pulled the covers off from where they obstructed her needy hazel-green gaze. 

“Blue?” She tried, speaking quietly, but unable to keep the elation from her voice. “Pssst, hey, you awake yet?” Her hands gathered up the blankets beside her, drawing them away from where she assumed they were covering your sleeping form. But they just kept coming, she pulled and pulled, gathering more fabric between her fingers, spilling the material up over her own body until the mattress was revealed. The empty mattress. She cocked an eyebrow at the sight, a question she silently posed to the barren space where you were meant to be. Where her subconscious and conscious self both had practically guaranteed you would be. Now, the reporter was confused. 

Deciding that this was perhaps not the most ideal angle for exploration, she raised up into a sitting position, flattening her wild hair with one hand as the other kept the covers drawn up around her. 

“Blue?” She questioned a little louder. Maybe you’re downstairs… fixing breakfast? It wouldn’t surprise her. You had always been thoughtful in that way, always seeming to look out for everyone but yourself. Damn that was sexy. Piper couldn’t remember the last person she had felt this way about. Maybe there wasn’t one. No, there really was no one like her Blue; you were the closest friend she’d ever had, you trusted her, you always believed her, believed in her, you spoke to her like a person, like a friend, like someone you genuinely cared about; not like a nosy little reporter, or a pain in your ass, which is how pretty much everyone else in the world decided she was supposed to be talked to. The more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her. There wasn’t anyone like you. It was literally just you, and the fact that you and her had been together in such a way last night? Unbelievable. Incredible, dreamlike, fantastic, and perfect, yes, but completely unbelievable. Wasn’t she too overbearing? Too loud? Too stubborn, and fiery, and hot-headed? 

From the moment she met you, she thought you could only ever see her in a certain way, as the scrappy, over-emotional, noisy reporter who had gotten herself locked out of the damn gate to the damn place that she freaken lived in. You had helped her, sure, and that was amazing, but she thought you’d never want to see her again after the encounter. However, as it turns out, she had been wrong. Mercifully, she had been wrong. Piper had never imagined that you would take her up on her offer to interview you, but when Nat had pulled you through the door, a firm grip locked around your wrist as she dragged you forward, and you had smiled at her, and agreed enthusiastically to answer her questions, she couldn’t help but flash her own silly grin over at you, desperate to try and hold back the joyous little giggle that threatened to escape her lips. 

Even now, still seated upon the bed, Piper smiled to herself as she poured over her memories with you. Everything was so vivid when you were around. Black and white, white and black, the occasional grey and off-white, that was all the reporter ever seemed to see in her life, but with you… everything was vibrant. The world wasn’t quite so corrupt and unforgiving, the people around her weren’t so dismissive, so closed off, even when the weather seemed too cold to bear, the light in your eyes would warm her from the inside out, the sky was never a muted tone when she was with you, it was always a bright cacophony of warm and cool colors that melded together to form a perfect blue. And the brilliance, the dizzying, lucid radiance of the night the two of you had shared had put all other colors she could possibly imagine to shame. 

Her whole body suddenly felt so warm at the sentiment, and she couldn’t stand to be bundled in blankets any longer. She had been too busy wrapped up in her own memories to even register that you hadn’t responded to her calling for you, but she shrugged it off, assuming maybe that she simply hadn’t heard your response. Piper climbed out of bed, letting the covers fall unceremoniously onto the mattress as she quickly grabbed clean clothes from her dresser. She dressed rapidly, the voice in the back of her mind posing a question that her consciousness didn’t want to acknowledge. Instead, she thought about how funny it was that she felt so embarrassed about you potentially seeing her in the nude; since, surely, you had gotten quite the eyeful last night.

But it was dark then! She thought, nodding and chuckling to herself as she prepared to make her way downstairs. At the top, looking downward, Piper paused. Listening for any movement from below, she was almost tempted to call for you again. But something caused her to hesitate. It’s that voice again, the one that wanted to ask… No, I’m not going to think about that.

The reporter forced herself to take the first step, the wood creaking in protest below her feet as she descended to the first floor. The sound was almost like a warning to her, encouraging her to turn back the way she had come, cursing her for taking a step towards the potential disappointment that awaited her at the bottom of the stairs.

Piper tried to seem perky, but her enthusiasm was waning with every moment she spent away from you; and as she peered around the ground floor, she realized that that pesky little question she had tried to push away from her conscious self was finally answered. You were gone.

The woman’s heart sank. Her brain suddenly pelting her with question after question as to why you could have done this. When had you decided that she wasn’t what you wanted? Had she been so horrible that she completely reversed the feelings you told her you had for her? Had you never cared for her in the first place? Had you just lied to get her in bed with you? If that were the case, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see you again. No, she was sure it would just end in a shouting match and her potentially trying to tear your pretty eyes from your useless skull. So, she… couldn’t do that, no, people thought she was crazy enough as is. But she is a reporter… and this, what you did to her, the way you made her feel, the way you used her body and toyed with her emotions, that was a crime. She had written about crimes countless times, she could do it again... But would that even be enough to make her feel less... Angry? Hurt? Idiotic?

Argh, she was so furious! With herself, with the situation, with you, but now she wasn’t sure if what she thought was your reason for leaving was even the truth, maybe she was imagining it. What if you were out there somewhere feeling hurt like she was? Or, feeling unheard or, or neglected? She didn’t know why you would be feeling that way, but there’s always two sides to a story, and she had to think that you would have had an at least halfway decent explanation for your actions. 

What about last night though? Didn’t you feel the same way she felt? She didn’t see how you could feel any differently.  

She could only wonder at all of her rhetorical questions that were begging to be answered, but just not by her. Maybe if she found you and requested an interview again… Hmmm.

Piper didn’t know if it would work, didn’t know if she could even find you, if you would agree to an interview at all, but it was a plan, at least; and for her to know the truth of the situation, it was definitely worth a try. 

The reporter thought up her questions as she gathered together her things, trying to come up with inquiries that didn’t seem too one-sided, or confrontational, or passive aggressive; but other thoughts kept interrupting her. At some point, she knew Nat would be home from her friend’s house, she should probably wash the sheets on her mattress, she hadn’t eaten anything yet, there was no food in the house, she still needed to proofread her next story, ugh! This was not what she needed today! You had always been so supportive of her, of the paper, of her taking care of Nat, of… just her in general, her as a person, as a reporter, as a friend, and traveling companion. You had been supportive last night, had let her be vulnerable, and confident in herself, and free of any judgement. You’d made her feel good about herself in a way she never had before. And yet, you fucking left. God, it made her crazy, because she just didn’t understand. It didn’t add up, all of the evidence, the important details at the front of her mind all pointed to a different sort of conclusion. One that ended with you in the dang bed next to her the morning after you had made her feel like she could write an epic poem detailing every blissful feeling you had elicited in her. And she didn’t even write poetry!

By the time her bag was packed, Piper’s stomach was growling, she was tired again, tired and hungry and angry and sad, and every negative base emotion a person could feel. But she forced herself up the couple of steps it took to get to the exit door, reaching out her hand for the doorknob, she prepared to go out and find you. To find you, and then question you. 

In the next instance, the door was pushing her back down the stairs gruffly as it opened directly into her.  

“Ow! Hey!” She said as she was thrown backwards by the impact. Piper gruffly reached up her hands, trying to adjust her hat back onto her head properly as the body in front of her moved through the door. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Piper! Are you alright?” 

Piper paused with her hands still over her head, and looked up quickly at the sound of your voice. At first, she thought it had been Nat who decided to beat her with her own door, but, as you stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile on your face, and a shopping bag in your hand, she couldn’t deny the fact that it really was you who had just barged into her. 

You didn’t leave. You weren’t gone. She thought giddily, impulsively throwing her arms around your shoulders in her relief. For just a moment, her questions and anger could wait.

“Aw, Piper, I wasn’t gone that long. But I missed you too.” you giggled at her, drawing your own encumbered arms around her to reciprocate to the best of your abilities, “And I’m glad you forgive me for the concussion I just gave you.” 

“Where were you?” Piper asked, almost aggressively as she pulled away, still standing close enough to keep you trapped between her and the door. 

“I just had to grab some supplies from the mark--”

“And you couldn’t wait until I woke up? Do you know the kind of state you had me in this morning?! Geeze, Blue, you really are clueless sometimes, huh?”

“No! I’m sorry I was gone, but I… Here, I brought home some breakfast. I wanted to surprise you.”

You held up the bag in your hand, showcasing the clear outline of soup containers and the distinct mark of Takahashi. 

“O--oh, well, that was… um, that was really nice of you, Blue. I…”

You just smiled at her and her apologetic expression, beginning your descent past Piper and down the couple of stairs towards the couch where the two of you could enjoy your breakfast.  

“It’s okay Piper. I’m sorry too.” You said looking back at her as you placed the bag down on the coffee table. And your companion just grinned.

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- 9a

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 2177

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Ok so I started to write this and then had to go back to edit it and then I added more and then it was all just angst and it was just getting so long and I couldn’t fix it. ANYWHO, the Halloween special will now be two parts. I’m really hoping it won’t be three but we shall have to wait and see. 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! Please be safe out there! 

Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

Loki refrained from groaning as he stepped into the jet that would take them back to the Tower. Sam and Bucky were fighting over the pilot seat while Wanda was chattering loudly about the costume she had managed to find for herself and Vision. Loki catches your eye and he can tell you wish to speak to him. He doesn’t allow you the chance as he storms out of the seating area in preference of the solitude found in the back. 

The quinjet finally sets out of the compound and Loki manages to survive the short ride without being pulled into whatever conversation you wish to have with him. You most likely wanted to know the truth behind what you had revealed previously. An answer he would refuse to give you. 

Loki is almost cornered by you in the arrival at the tower but by sheer luck, you are called away by the AI allowing Loki to peacefully make his way down to his residential floor. The peace he had in mind at the return of his familiar abode is disrupted at the sight of Thor waiting for him there. 

Loki’s annoyance grows at the sight of his brother regaled in his Asgardian armor swinging Mjolnir with ease. 

“Welcome back, brother.” 

Loki just grunts in response as he tries to maneuver around the big oaf. 

“I went ahead and prepared your armor for the party tonight,” Thor continues with a smile. “It should be a merry night full of drinking and dancing. We should thoroughly enjoy it.” 

“I’m not going to that party.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I refuse to partake in Midgardian celebrations.” 

“I would think you would enjoy this one, Loki. It’s all about mischief and magic.” 

Loki rubs his eyes tiredly. 

“I am quite tired, brother. I am in no mood for festivities.”

“You never are,” Thor states, forcing Loki to stop right outside his bedroom door. “You always hide out here and avoid having any fun. You’ve been here for months, Loki, and you have failed to participate in any way or form to enjoy humanity.”

“I hate this place,” Loki responds. “Why would I try to find some silver lining?” 

“If that is the case then perhaps I should report to father that you have made no progress and have you sent back home.”

That definitely deepens the foul mood Loki was already in.  

“If I go to this party will you refrain from reporting to father?” 

Thor thinks for a few seconds before relenting.

“Yes, I would.” 

“Great, good,” Loki mutters as he slips into the darkness of his room. “I’m not wearing my armor though.” 

“Then what will you wear?” 

Loki doesn’t respond promptly slamming the door closed to Thor’s face. 

The lab was as pristine and proper as the day before you had come in and destroyed it. The wall had been repaired and the equipment that had been easily thrown before was now bolted to the ground. You let out a sigh as you try to forget that dark moment of your life when you had turned against your friends for no reason. 

You still couldn’t remember what happened but it still shook you to the very core. The truth was something everyone valued and yet you had overlooked the darkness it could truly hold. Lying didn’t seem so bad now and you miss having the simple ability. 

Shaking yourself from that thought, you scanned the rest of the room looking for the man of the hour. 

The moment the jet landed at the tower you were promptly told by FRIDAY that Tony requested your presence in the lab. 

You tried to make a quick stop towards the Asgardian floor but the AI had overlooked your floor request in preference of following its creator’s demand. 

The lab remained silent after you came in. FRIDAY had announced your presence but Tony was nowhere to be seen. You felt yourself being watched but could find no one. You were starting to grow paranoid which didn’t help when a loud bang resonated nearby.

Your head snaps towards the source of the crash and you relax when you realize it’s just Dum-E hitting against the nearby desk.

“Oh Dum-E, I thought I was…”

“BOO!” 

You jump at the sudden shout behind you. Out of pure instinct, you throw your hands in front of you causing your gauntlets to shoot out two straight lines of energy. The beams scorch two black spots on the recently repaired wall.

“Well that’s new.” 

You turn around and glare at Tony. 

“What the hell, Tony!” you shout at him. “I could have killed you.” 

Tony chuckles in response and is quick to apologize. 

“Sorry, kid,” he answers. “Didn’t realize you were Iron Man 2.0.” 

You roll your eyes at him and laugh sarcastically at him. 

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” you joke. “These things are the only reason I have some semblance of control.” 

“Let me see them.” 

You raise your hands and show him the golden gauntlets. 

“Interesting design,” he mutters as he grabs a hold of them, turning them around back and forth. “I’m assuming the stones are important by their placement. I wonder what they’re made of. Carbon-based, maybe? Rare space jewel? I would have to run some tests…”

“Yeah, not possible,” you comment. “I can’t take these off. Things could go very wrong.” 

Tony scowls as he lets your hands go. 

“Can’t risk it for a few minutes?” Tony asks. “I’m sure I could improve them for a nicer aesthetic and easier mobility.” 

“Tony…”

“Come on,” he nudges. “You don’t see me wearing my blasters because they’re comfortable. It’ll only be a few minutes. Five tops.” 

You hesitate and Tony pesters on.  

“Let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do if you have to wear those atrocities for the rest of your life.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before relenting. 

“Just be careful with the stones and be quick, please,” you plead at him. “I don’t wish to have a repeat of my last mishaps.” 

Tony snorts as he helps you slide the gauntlets off your hands. 

“Heard about that,” he snickers. “A little birdie told me and by birdie, I obviously mean Sam.” 

You laugh and shake your head at him watching as he steps towards his desk and pulls out an array of files into the screen. He flips through them quickly before stopping at one. 

Pepper Gift Ideas. 

“Um, Tony?” 

He ignores you as he opens the file up and scatters out the multiple designs he’s sketched out. You’re shocked at the multiple documents in the file but don’t have the chance to inspect them closely as Tony finds the one he was looking for. 

“Here it is,” he states as he picks the design and throws it onto the screen next to his equipment. “What do you think, kid?” 

“Oh, wow,” you whisper as you look at the design on display. “That’s beautiful.” 

“Was tinkering for a while about making Pepper her own jewelry,” Tony responds beside you. “But she never wears what I get her.” 

“I’m sure she would wear this,” you tell him. “Are you sure you want to use this design on me?” 

Tony is quick to nod. 

“You’ve been dealt a shitty hand with this power,” Tony answers honestly. “I just want to make things better for you in any way I can.” 

“Thanks, Tony,” you tell him, heartfelt at his generosity. “Really, thank you.” 

Tony clears his throat from the rising emotion and looks away. He picks up your gauntlet and begins to disassemble them. 

“Now go away,” he mutters. “Let me work in peace.” 

“You told me it would only be five minutes.” 

“Well I lied. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” 

You roll your eyes at him and Tony simply smirks. 

“I’ll have them done soon, I promise, so why don’t you go ahead and find your partner in crime, Natasha. She’s got your costume in her room.” 

You hesitate but you’ve already done your daily exercises to tire your powers out. Nothing could go wrong. Or at least that’s what you hoped for. 

You wince at the sharp tug of your hair. You glare at Natasha through the mirror but she simply smirks in response. You had no choice when it came to getting ready for this impromptu Halloween party. Natasha dragged you into her room the moment you showed up at her door. 

You didn’t mind her help for the party. In fact, you were glad to have it as the redhead went above and beyond to have everything ready for you. From the costume to the hair and makeup, Natasha had arranged it all. All you had to do was sit there and allow her to make her vision into a reality. 

Though you would use this time to catch up with your close friend, your mind was far away at the moment. 

Ever since your last lesson, Loki had avoided you like the plague. Any attempt of trying to apologize to him was somehow thwarted by Loki himself or some outside force. It didn’t help that Tony’s impromptu invitation and the jet that followed severed any chance of forcing him to see you. 

You felt guilty.

You had crossed a line by revealing something he wasn’t ready to when all he had done was help you. You needed to apologize and you needed to do it soon. 

“Ok, spill it.” 

You look up at Natasha’s pointed stare and sigh. 

“I can’t hide anything, can I?” you mutter tiredly. Nat tugs on your hair again and you hiss at the action. “I’m fine, Nat. Just trying to settle my mind.”

“Of what?” 

You take a deep breath debating whether it was a good idea to tell her of your past week with Loki. 

Nat despised him with every fiber of her being, but you… you didn’t. 

“Loki’s been a great teacher considering I’m a ticking time bomb...”  

“But?” Nat interrupts. 

“But,” you repeat with a huff. “I keep ruining everything with this stupid power.”

“You?” Nat asks, confused. “You ruined everything? Not him?”

“Nat…” 

“I’m sorry,” she sarcastically laughs. “That doesn’t make sense. You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“You don’t understand,” you sigh. “If you just let me explain…”

“Then explain.” 

You take a deep breath and turn away from the mirror to look at Natasha directly. 

“I have invaded everyone’s privacy. I’ve learned things I have no right knowing and revealed things without permission. You already know how guilty I felt because of it,” you explain. “Yet, Loki wasn’t one of them. He’s immune to my power as I am to his but I recently crossed a line and uncovered something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“What was it?” 

“You know I can’t tell you.” 

 Natasha huffs in response but shrugs her curiosity off. 

“So?” she asks. “What’s wrong then?” 

“I feel really bad about it, Nat, and he’s avoiding me and I just want to apologize to him because I invaded his privacy but he won’t even let me get close to him to do it.”

“He doesn’t need an apology,” Nat scoffs. “He’s a grown man. He can lick up his wounds and move on.” 

You’re starting to regret confiding in her about your situation but Loki has yet to teach you how to evade telling the truth without necessarily resorting to lying.

“I apologized to you and everyone after my first outburst,” you remind her. “You didn’t need me to but I’m sure it helped.”

Natasha lets out a breath but she knew you had a point. 

“Loki doesn’t deserve your kindness.” 

She’s being honest with her opinion but you don’t feel the same way. 

“I think differently,” you answer. “I think it’s been a long time since Loki’s been treated with some kindness.” 

Natasha's eyes narrow down at you. 

“Do you…” she hesitates. “What exactly is your relationship with him?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you acquaintances? Friends? Or is it more?” 

You’re surprised at the question. 

“I guess we’re friends?” you answer unsurely. “Mentor and student seems weird so yeah… friends.” 

Natasha seems unconvinced but she doesn’t speak up on it. Instead, she motions you to face forward again so she could finish up with your hair.

“So do you think I’ll have time to slip out to apologize or am I going to have to wait until the party?” 

Nat can’t avoid the snort from escaping her promptly earning her a confused look from you. 

“Loki doesn’t go to the parties,” she tells you. “Not since I could remember.” 

“Then why did he come with us in the jet?” 

“Maybe because he has to monitor you and we have to monitor him?” 

Nat’s right but you can only hope that Loki might prove her wrong. 

“If he’s there… apologize to him,” Nat tells you hoping to ease the scowl that was settling on your face. “Just don’t expect him to forgive you. He’s not apologetic, far less forgiving.”

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[come-on-shitty-boys]

//general dating headcannons//

Characters: Sugawara Koushi/Matsukawa Issei/Miya Osamu

Word Count: 1.5K (~500 a piece)

Warnings: none :)

Notes: my head is so empty.  It is just tattoo artist!kuroo rn.

Sugawara Koushi

Ah my beautiful chaotic angel.

Sugawara is pretty bold for the most part, but-

When it came to asking you out?  He couldn’t do it.  His stomach would get all jittery and he was never able to form sentences.  

So, when you made the first move?  When you hit on him first?  He instantly regained any and all of his confidence.

You thought he was just going to sit there and blush? Oh, honey.  How wrong you are.

Sugawara simply smiles at you and flirts right back twice as hard.  Knowing that you’re into him as much as he’s into you makes him forget any anxieties he has about approaching you.  By the end of the exchange, Sugawara has your number and a date scheduled for Friday night.  

It’s a very relaxed dynamic with the two of you.  

Sugawara is really big on study dates and if you aren’t the best student, he doesn’t mind breaking it down step by step with you.  He’s going to be asking if his explanations make sense after each step and if you’re still lost, don’t worry.  Suga would love to try to find a better way to help you.  He wants to be a teacher, so why not start practicing now?

He’s going to pester you about taking care of yourself.  Please expect regular reminders to drink water and grab a snack, but the same applies to him.  If he’s asking you to get a snack, I can assure you that he has unwrapped a granola bar.  He tells you to drink some water?  Koushu will be downing water as if he hasn’t had a drink in years.  

He is a very “we” oriented person.  Any problems he wants to get through together.  He doesn’t see the point in attacking one another if there’s a bigger issue that needs addressed.

Because of this, you guys never really fight?  Sure, there’s some minor spats every now and then, but it’s never anything serious.  

Sugawara also doesn’t really get jealous.  He has a crazy amount of trust in you and knows that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.  But, if you need him to step in, he’s not afraid to be so overwhelmingly nice that whoever might be hitting on you backs off.  

Always makes sure that you’re okay ;-; He wants to make sure that you are mentally, physically, and emotionally well at all times.  

He’s very open with you and would really like it if you could be open with him.  He understands that it’s difficult and not everything is the easiest to say, but he’s there to help you through anything.  It’s the two of you versus the issue.  Suga doesn’t want you to feel alone.

He’s a super kind boyfriend, but also very fun.  He will be showing up at your door in the middle of the night because he’s craving a milkshake and some fresh air.  It’s as simple as that.  

Sugawara keeps an extra jacket in his club room cubby in case you ever get cold in class, because yes.  He is that boyfriend.

10/10 recommend a Koushi in your life.

Matsukawa Issei

THE BEST 

Like the absolute best

Issei is just so laid-back that it’s difficult not to have a good time with him.  

He likes to have his arm around your waist and he’ll pull you into his side nice and tight, let you relish in his body heat.

He’ll give you a really soft kiss on your temple that makes you smile up at him, love in your eyes, so happy to be with him.

Only for him to straight up jab you in the sides with his fingers.  Not hard enough to actually hurt you, but it’s definitely catching you off guard.  

Issei loves to make fun of you.  I don’t make the rules.  He’s going to lovingly call you an idiot when you misspell something simple or make a simple calculation error.  If you’re shorter than him, doesn’t even matter how short, he’s going to pat your head and call you ‘short stuff’

But he would never laugh at you for something that you were genuinely insecure about.  He’s not that much of an asshole.  And if he ever does say something that upsets you?

He’s right there behind you, bringing you flush against his chest, leaning down to whisper every reassurance and every apology, reminding you that every fiber of his being loves you just the way you are.

I would never outright tell you that he gets jealous, but-

The extra bite to his words whenever the conversation is focused on another guy would lead you to believe otherwise.  

He refuses to admit that he’s jealous.  Matsukawa Issei?  Jealous?  N o.  yes.

One time he took you to work and the two of you took a nap in one of the bigger coffins

This was, of course, only after he hid from you.  When you came looking for him, he waited until you were right in front of him before he grabbed you and pulled you towards him.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead.  Luckily, none of his clients had an urge to wake from their eternal slumber in response to your screams.

Nap time with Matsukawa is a must.  Whether it be in bed or on the couch or, hell, he’s willing to sleep on the floor, he just wants to be able to stare at you while you fall asleep on his chest.

He really likes playing with your hair?  That’s his go-to mindless habit; twisting your hair around his fingers absently.  

Not going to lie, he prefers staying home for dates than actually going out.  He wouldn’t object if you really wanted to, but sitting on the couch with take-out containers and Netflix is his preferred date night activity.  

He doesn’t even ask if you want his jacket.  The minute it even gets close to being the slightest bit chilly, he’s putting his jacket around your shoulders.

Loves back hugs and you can expect all of the back hugs from our gorgeous boy 

Miya Osamu

It all started because Atsumu told him that he wouldn’t.  

Ever since Atsumu had found out about his brother's little crush on you, he had made it his personal mission to tease ‘samu about it every single day.  

Atsumu pretty much said that Osamu was too much of a scaredy cat to ask you out and if ‘samu didn’t ask you out by the end of the day, Atsumu would take you out on a date instead.

So, insert Miya Osamu immediately walking towards you without another word to his brother.  He stopped you in the hallway and simply asked, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

Is he proud that it took his brother threatening him to get him to ask you out? No. Does he regret asking you out? Also no.

Osamu made you food and took you on a picnic for your first date ;-; He would’ve liked to have just invited you over and cooked with you, but Atsumu was home and there isn’t a bigger vibe killer than your twin brother down the hall playing video games with his friends.

It takes a lot for anything to really piss Osamu off.  He would never yell at you, but he does have his moments where he gets annoyed and everything just bottles up until he snaps at you.

Instantly feels bad.  The way you flinch at his words has his temper fizzling away from him in a moment’s notice.  He’ll wrap you in a bone crushing hug, apologizing into your hair, not even giving you a chance to speak, because he’s practically smothering you against his shoulder.

Hahahahaha he’s one of the most jealous people that you will ever meet.

Maybe it’s from growing up with a brother and constantly having to share that made him despise the thought of someone else looking at you now.  

Osamu is a pretty big guy which already makes him kind of intimidating, but his deadpan expression and bored words just adds another layer of icing to the cake. 

His grip on your hand will tighten until his knuckles are white and you’re squirming in an attempt to pull your hand away because his grip is kind of uncomfortable.  

He won’t even say anything.  He’ll just stare and make the occasional back-handed remark towards whatever guy had approached you.

He really doesn’t like to cuddle.  You can lay your head on his shoulder or his chest, but other than that, he doesn’t really see the appeal of it, and, quite honestly, he’s fine without it. 

But, he does like to hold your hand.  Like-

Always.  If you’re just sitting on the couch together, he wants to hold your hand.  You guys are waiting for something to finish up in the oven?  He’s holding your hands in his.  There’s just something so comforting to him about feeling your hands in his 

In conclusion.  Hi, I love Miya Osamu and I would like to purchase one ASAP. Thank you.

Taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ also hey @nekxrizawa​ come get your husband.

[mydogisveryadorbs]

blue ain't your color | jj maybank

masterlist

summary: song fic based on blue ain’t your color by keith urban.

warnings: mentions of mentally and physically abusive relationships, underage drinking, mentions of drugs, angst, fluff, v soft jj

PSA: this is not in any way meant to idealize or romanticize abusive relationships. if you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship please get help. below are some resources and learning tools. 

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1 (800) 799 – 7233

Love is Respect – National Teen Dating Abuse Hotline: 1 (866) 331 – 9474

more hot lines and info: https://victimconnect.org/resources/national-hotlines/

learn more: https://www.thehotline.org/psa/

lyrics in bold

3.8k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

I can see you over there

Starring at your drink

Watchin' that ice sink

All alone tonight

You look down at your drink, moving the straw in a circular motion causing the ice to swirl around creating a small tornado.

Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize you've been waiting here for almost two hours. 

Your boyfriend was supposed to meet you at Topper’s party at 9. In the first thirty minutes, you weren't surprised. Liam, your kook boyfriend of 10 months, was late for almost everything, so this didn't come as a shock to you. 

When the one hour mark hit you were honestly quite worried. What if he was in an accident? What if he got jumped? Maybe your thoughts were most likely irrational, but you couldn't help but worry about your boyfriend.

One hour later, you had gotten past the worrying stage. Now you were simply angry, no, furious at him. Had he stood you up? Did he forget about you? These thoughts were definitely more rational. It wouldn't be the first time Liam stood you up, but you would make sure it was the last. 

At the beginning of your relationship, everything had been sunshine and butterflies. About two months in, however, he asked you to stop seeing your friends.

You see you were a born and raised pogue. Your dad was a close friend of Big John so you had practically grown up with John B, JJ, and Pope, in more recent years becoming close friends with Kiara.

At first, it was little things. Liam would get upset if you left to hang out with the pogues instead of him. Then one day, he asked you to stop seeing them all together. You, of course, retaliated, telling him that you would never leave your friends. But Liam had a way with words, and not a good way. He told you for months that your friends would never love you and that you were lucky that he had even taken pity on you. Slowly, you started to believe him. You stopped seeing the pogues, pushing everyone who truly loved you out of your life.

Liam became more and more distant as the months went on. He would leave you almost every night to drink and party, not even bothering to let you know where he was headed. The two of you had been fighting nonstop for several weeks. It had gotten physical only a few times and the next morning he would apologize profusely, so you stayed.

Seeing him walk in with two girls wrapped around his waist, nearly two and a half hours late, was the last straw for you.

Grabbing your purse, you walked up to Liam, who's eyes widened with the realization the moment he saw you.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, slightly slurring his words as his arms still holding the two skinny blondes at his sides, “It's not what it looks like.” You can see his red-rimmed eyes and dilated pupils, telling you that he was coked out. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that this was it for you. “Really, Liam,” you snap back, “‘Cause it looks like we are done here.”

Liam’s eyes widen in shock, never having seen you lash out like this before. He shakes it off and his expression quickly contorts into one of disgust. “Okay,” he says with a shrug, “Good luck finding someone else to take pity on a whore like you, dirty pogue.” He walks away with the two girls, leaving you in shock.

It takes a moment for you to realize that you had just ended this almost one-year relationship. 

The first emotion you feel is one of freedom and relief. No more would you have to be held down by this weight of not being able to do and say what you want.

That feeling slowly dissipates as the feeling of dread starts to overcome it. You had pushed away all of your friends for this boy who had let you go like you were nothing to him. Maybe you were nothing.

You walk back to the bar area, grabbing another drink, feeling the need to drown away your sorrows.

And chances are

You're sittin' here in this bar

'Cause he ain't gonna treat you right

JJ Maybank hated kook parties with a passion.

Thankfully he hadn't had the opportunity to attend too many of them in his lifetime. But now that John B was macking on Sarah Cameron, it wasn't uncommon for the blonde boy to get dragged along to one of these events.

John B had left JJ to fend for himself as soon as they had arrived at the party, slipping off somewhere to find Sarah. JJ looked around the extravagant home that belonged to one of his enemies, Topper Thornton. His ring clad fingers fiddled with an expensive-looking vase, trying to find the perfect moment to snag it and slip away.

JJ’s eyes filtered through the crowd when they landed on something, or rather someone, that he had least expected to see.

His hand slipped from the vase, letting his gaze drink you in. You definitely looked different. Your once long hair was now cut just below your shoulders and your typical style of denim shorts and a cropped shirt was exchanged for a lavish-looking dress and sparkly stilettos.

JJ admits that he probably wouldn't have recognized you if he hadn't spent so many years unable to take his eyes off of you whenever the pogues were together.

The boy had loved his life long best friend since the day she clocked a boy in the face for making fun of JJ’s worn-out clothes. They were seven. In addition to being the day JJ had met (Y/N) and John B, it was also the day he fell in love with the (Y/E/C) eyed girl.

When you started dating your kook boyfriend at the beginning of your junior year, JJ was initially devastated. He soon brought himself to realize, however, that a lowlife like him would never be able to deserve someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as you. His thoughts were confirmed when you abruptly stopped hanging around the pogues and him. You were too good for him. The blonde boy had no idea of the pain that Liam had caused you in the past ten months.

Now looking at you, JJ could see that you were upset. He had gotten really good at analyzing your body language over the many years of being your best friend.

All thoughts of stealing the vase flew out of his mind as his feet started in your direction.

Well, it's probably not my place

But I'm gonna say it anyway

'Cause you look like

You haven't felt the fire

Had a little fun

Hadn't had a smile in a little while

You felt a figure move to sit in the bar stool chair next to you, but you choose to ignore whoever it is, not particularly feeling up to socializing with a contemptuous kook after what you just went through.

The figure didn't move after a few minutes so you turn to look at them with a glare in your eyes, ready to snap at them and ask them to leave you alone. Your gaze immediately softens as you realize the person next to you is in fact the last person you would ever expect to see at a party like this, JJ Maybank.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you continue to stare at the side profile of the blonde boy who hasn't yet turned to face you. 

Everything you had done so well to hide over the last ten years of knowing and loving him comes rushing back. Your love for the boy next to you consumes every fiber of your being. 

A lone tear falls down your cheek as you begin to curse yourself and Liam. How did I let him control me into giving this up? This feeling?

Blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

JJ finally turns his head to look at you and feels his entire resolve crumble. You were crying. The sight nearly breaks his heart in two.

His eyes lock with yours and he can see the pain and heartache swirling within them.

“What did he do to you,” JJ mutters, letting his eyes roam the crowd for the boy he despises most in the world. Almost a year of suppressed anger starts to bubble up to the surface.

“JJ,” you whimper.

The sadness and hopelessness in your voice makes every ounce of anger in him evaporate as he turns his head to look at you again. The look in your eyes tells him that the kook boy had hurt you worse than he ever knew.

JJ wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and never let anything else in the world harm you. His hands itch to wipe the tears off your face and pull your head to his chest.

However, JJ also wants you to be as comfortable as possible and he's not sure if you're ready for the amount of love he has to give you just yet.

You surprise the blonde boy by reaching out to your arms out to him. The blonde wastes no time in standing up and pulling your body flush to his chest.

Everyone else in the world disappears as the two of you clutch each other with all you have. Both of you realize how much you had missed the comfort of each other's embrace. 

You're not sure how long you stand there like that, face nuzzled into JJ’s shoulder as the boy strokes your hair comfortingly.

“I'm sorry,” you mumble into his shirt, not willing to pull away from the warmth he radiates.

JJ’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he pulls away enough to look down at you. “What do you mean,” he asks with a softness in his voice that is reserved for you only, gently lifting your chin so that you are looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes.

You sniffle. “I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for breaking down in front of you. I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. But most of all, I'm sorry for ever believing that I could live without you. I-I mean if it weren't for you I don't know what I would do. I understand if you don't want to talk to-” your ramble is suddenly cut off by JJ pressing his lips to yours.

The boy knows that this is probably not the best time to confess his feelings towards you, but he can't watch you talk down about yourself like that anymore. Do you not know how much he adores you? 

The kiss is soft and passionate. JJ can taste your salty tears on his slightly chapped lips as they work against yours. Both of you poor every ounce of emotion you have into the kiss. 

JJ reluctantly pulls away when the two of you run out of air, placing his forehead delicately on yours as your arms wrap around his neck.

I'm tellin' you

You don't need that guy

It's so black and white

He's stealin' your thunder

Baby, blue ain't your color

Both of you pant as you look into each other's eyes. “I've wanted to do that for so long,” JJ says, as the smile you cherish so much graces his features.

“Really?” you ask and JJ can hear the vulnerability in your voice. What did that shithead do to you to make you so insecure?

“You have no idea, baby,” he says, tenderly kissing away the tear that has slipped out of your eye and onto your cheek.

Not having the words to express how you feel about the boy in front of you, you pull his head back down, kissing him so sweetly that it makes his knees buckle.

“JJ,” you whisper as you pull away, but you never get to finish your statement because you are suddenly ripped out of his embrace.

“You fucking whore,” Liam seethes at you taking a stride towards you and you instinctively take a step back. “You break up with me and two minutes later you've moved onto another guy. Slut.” His words cut you deep and you know by the tone of his voice that a punch to the gut or a slap to the face is coming. Liam raises his hand and you brace yourself for impact, but it never comes.

The sound of yelling fills your senses and you open your eyes to see JJ punching Liam in the face repeatedly. You are frozen as you watch the scene in front of you.

“JJ,” you hear John B yell, turning to look at him, “You're gonna kill him.”

Your eyes widen in realization at his words and you take a step forward.

“JJ,” you call, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of everyone yelling around you. You clear your throat and try again, louder. “JJ.”

This time JJ stops mid punch, turning to look at you. Fear fills your body when you see that his wide, normally baby blue eyes are nearly black.

His gaze softens as he takes in your anxious look.

JJ steps away from the beat-up boy and you see a few of his friends pull Liam’s limp body away. You lock your eyes back to JJ’s and he takes a careful step towards you causing you to involuntarily flinch back slightly.

I'm not tryna

Be another just

Pick you up

Kinda guy

Tryna drink you up

Tryna take you home

He wants to cry out at the sight. Don't you know that he would rather die than ever hurt you? 

You do know this, and you're not afraid of the boy in the slightest, but the last five minutes have put you on edge.

Seeing the broken look in the blonde’s eyes, you take quick steps toward his body, wrapping him in your embrace. He melts into your arms, allowing his face to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

The crowd that had formed around the fight disperses, realizing the show is over.

“(Y/N).” The sound of your name being called pulls your attention away from the sweet boy in your arms.

You pull away from JJ slightly, still keeping an arm around his bicep.

Looking over, you see John B standing to the side with Sarah Cameron. You had heard about the two of them getting together and you suddenly realize why JJ happened to be at this party.

The sadness in John B’s eyes as he looks at you breaks your heart. The two of you have been like sister and brother your whole lives and, besides JJ, he was the hardest for you to stop talking to.

You feel JJ’s grip on you loosen, urging you to go to John. The two of you walk towards each other and John B pulls you into his arms. 

“I missed you, (Y/N/N),” he says unto your hair, “So much.”

You smile, tears softly rolling down your cheeks. “I missed you too, JB,” you say, pulling away to look at JJ who looks back with a sad smile on his face.

But I just don't understand

How another man

Can take your sun

And turn it ice cold

The four of you decided it was best to leave. John B dropped Sarah off at her house and drove the three of you back to the Chateau. Your stomach drops at the sight of the small shack.

JJ notices your facial expression, placing his hand softly on top of yours. “You okay?” he asks gently as John B parks the van.

You nod with a small smile and JJ helps you out of the van, holding your hand as he leads you to the porch. You stop walking, causing the two boys to turn around and look at you.

“I'm sorry,” you say, tears pooling in your eyes again. JJ gives you a knowing look. “(Y/N),” he says, almost sternly.

“No,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Let me talk.” JJ nods and John B looks at you expectantly. “I left you. Both of you. I- Liam, he just made me feel so useless and I didn't want to be a bother to you guys anymore.”

JJ lets out a sound, almost like a growl, and pulls you into a hug. “You are not useless, (Y/N),” he says seriously, “You are so important, to both of us, and we missed you so much.”

You nod into his chest as John B comes to wrap his arms around both of you.

The three of you group hug and you sigh contently, happy to be back with your boys.

Well, I've had enough to drink

And it's makin'

Me think that I just might

Tell you if I were a painter I wouldn't change ya

I'd just paint you bright

John B helps JJ set up the pull out while you change into a pair of John B’s sweats and JJ’s t-shirt. John B says goodnight and goes to “hit the hay” as he puts it, leaving you and JJ alone again.

“I'll sleep on the other couch and you can take the bed,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

The two of you settle into your “beds”, but you can't seem to fall asleep with so many thoughts running through your mind.

Everything that has happened since you left the pogues seems like one big sad blur. Your mind wanders to JJ. What does this mean for you two? 

“(Y/N),” the voice you love so much calls. You hum in response. “You ‘wake?” he asks. You sit up in the pullout shaking your head.

“Can't sleep,” you say, rubbing your eyes. 

JJ sits up as well. “M’sorry, baby,” the nickname makes your heart flutter.

You open your arms for the boy who looks at you warily. “Are you sure, (Y/N),” he asks. You nod quickly and he stands up, falling into the pullout and wrapping you into his arms. He tucks your head under his chin, pulling you closer.

“JJ,” you ask.

It's his turn to hum in response. “This may be weird for you, but I feel like I just have to say it,” you tell him. JJ pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. He's worried about what you are going to say but tries to hide it for your sake. “I love you, J.”

JJ smiles, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with yours in an Eskimo kiss. “I love you too,” he says sincerely, but you're afraid he doesn't understand what you mean.

“No, J,” you say, looking away from his eyes, “I love you. Like, I'm in love with you.”

The blonde boy only smiles bigger. He leans down pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, pulling away when you run out of air. JJ trails sweet kisses down your jaw and neck before placing one last kiss on your lips.

“I'm in love with you too (Y/N),” he says kissing your forehead. JJ wonders how he went so long without being able to kiss you and hold you. Even after only confessing a few hours ago, it feels so natural to have you in his arms. The thought of not having you makes his heart ache. 

“I have to ask you something, but you can say no and it won't change anything and I understand that this is hard because of everything that just happened,” JJ rambles. You kiss his jaw softly, urging him to continue. “Will you be mine. Ya know. Like my girlfriend, or whatever.”

You smile wide. “Of course I'll be yours, J.”

JJ copies your smile leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away, snuggling into you, and the both of you bask in the feeling of being in each other's arms. Your hand reaches up to play with JJ’s hair as your eyes start to droop.

“Love ya, pretty girl.”

“Love you too, J.”

'Cause blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

You are sitting down on a beach towel, watching the sun slowly fall into the ocean, lighting the sky with a beautiful rainbow of colors. Your feet are outstretched in front of you and your hands prop you up behind your back. The Outer Banks heat is making your skin warm, but you don't mind, letting the steadily depleting sun hit your skin.

You watch as JJ catches another wave, surfing it perfectly. You giggle as he raises his hand in a fist, clapping for him. 

It's been two weeks since you finally ended things with Liam. You were able to mend things with the rest of the pogues and Kiara and Pope welcomed you back with open arms. Things with JJ have been going amazing. The two of you agreed to take things slowly seeing as you were just getting out of a toxic relationship. It was different to finally be in a place with JJ where you weren't afraid to show him and tell him how you feel, but you loved it.

JJ runs towards you, gripping his board in one hand as the other pushes back his blonde locks.

When he gets to your towel, JJ throws down his board and plops down next to you, pulling you into a sweet hug.

You giggle. “You're all wet, J,” you say, not making any move to get out of his warm embrace. The boy peppers your face with soft kisses causing you to giggle even more.

A few minutes later you are seated in between JJ’s legs and he has his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, J,” you say, still watching the sunset.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” JJ says kissing your neck. He begins humming the tune to a song you recognize. 

“Blue ain't your color, umm mm,” he sings, “No, no baby, come here baby, let me light up your world.”

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

[sweetestlamb]

Lighting Up Your World

Episode 17 

Summary: Gang-tae and Mun-yeong continue their road trip, finding themselves and helping others along the way. 

Author's note: Here is part 1 of the weekend fic updates! I tried my best to make these interesting and multilayered channeling my inner Jo Yong. The focus is on MY/GT and their healing but I also wanted them to heal others too on this journey so we do meet an OC. If I had time this could be something that continues each weekend, but work and life starts again very soon so I won’t make any promises but I had a really fun time writing this and trying to plot out the story so it felt familiar to IOTNBO with conflicts and resolutions, only they all happen within the chapter lol. Without further ado, here’s episode 17 ;) *Play “Lighting up Your World* 

The mood shifts drastically after Sang-tae's departure, they're both sulky and a bit flabbergasted by his sudden decision to leave, this was their first trip as a newly fledged family, it felt monumental, like a rite of passage of sorts; but by the morning they've accepted his choice and set sights on their next location. Gang-tae lays in disbelief thinking about how much his brother has changed, how much their relationship itself, has shifted.

Thanks in part to her, his eyes land on her sleeping form, gorgeous in the low lighting of the camping van.

She had crashed into their lives like a bulldozer, hell bent on having him, but only as an object- something to capture and conquer. Somewhere along the way, despite their unconventional start; love had blossomed. It wasn't an easy start and it took time to nurture but he couldn't imagine his life without her now, their little family.

I love you Moon Gang-tae.

She loved him. Meant it with every fiber of her being, it was detectable in her eyes, swirled in the pools of her captivating eyes. If that wasn't enough her actions proclaimed her love, never turning her back on him despite his sometimes despicable behavior and words that cut her. Running back to defend him from the one person she despised the most, uncaring of her own fate. He hadn't known he could experience love like this, all-consuming devotion. Not until she entered his life.

A smile blooms on his face, it all started with a stab. He knew others wouldn't understand- Jae-su's disbelieving face flashed in his memory- but it made perfect sense for them, she who was so jagged and broken when he met her and him so complacent and selfless, saving others even at his own detriment.

I met your mother after she stabbed me in the hand. Then months later she stabbed me in my other hand.

His chuckles fill the tight space of the van, until he hears a hoarse voice, "What are laughing at?"

With a small jump he turns to face her, adorable baffled look on her face, and he sits up to better see her.

"I was thinking about us."

She looks at him deeply, searching his eyes before continuing, "And that made you laugh? Were you thinking of good things?"

"Well... I was thinking about how we met and how we would tell that story to our future son who looks like me." He responds sheepishly, heart singing at the soft look that forms on her face, that happens often now, her blushing every time he mentions their future. He makes sure to do it often, for both of them. After wrongly viewing their relationship as ill-fated, it seems more important than ever to say the words out loud, breathe them into the world and give them life. Mun-yeong and Gang-tae are destined. 

He can’t help but imagine her round with his, no their child, swollen belly protruding from her slim frame, as she demands his attention and curses him for her condition. It would be as beautiful as it was terrifying. 

All in due time. 

After a few seconds of sustained eye contact she finally snaps out of her daze, craftily switching the subject to escape her own unease, “How are you really feeling about Oppa leaving? Do you want to end the trip and follow him?” 

For a moment, he wonders who is the person and what have they done to his Mun-yeong? The woman he first met lacked empathy for others, disregarded their feelings and trampled all over their boundaries; she was a new person, reborn. No, unpeeled, showing another layer to her personality. Considerate and caring with him and with Sang-tae, even putting them first at the expense of her own desires. 

Swiftly removing the blanket covering his torso, he strides toward her on the elevated bed, reaching out to caress her head, she is aptly watching his every move head subconsciously leaning into his tender hold. 

With his eyes firmly locked on her own he replies, “I...am happy. I am happy that he knows what he wants to do, he finally has a dream of his own. A dream just for him. And...I don’t want to go back. When I told you I loved you, that was my promise to keep moving forward, no matter what.” 

Being here, with you, that is my dream. That he leaves unsaid. 

He basks in the warmth of her smile, beaming on him, shiny solely for him. His own personal sun. 

“You’re so cheesy now.” She teases him playfully rolling her eyes, and he chuckles before shrugging, he’s never had a chance to be cheesy, probably has all that cheesiness packed up inside ready to come out, she is going to get it all. 

Curling his hands around her small face, he draws her closer before pressing a kiss to her forehead, watching her eyelids flutter close as she sighs gently. His lips are soft on her smooth skin, nothing more than a peck, a silent thank you for being here with him. For staying. 

Then he finally announces, “I know our next destination. While you were sleeping I found another spot for us.” Before she can question him he states, “It’s a surprise.” 

Her groan of annoyance is music to his ears, as he rushes to the front of the van, ready for their adventure. 

The sunlight brilliantly twinkles on the rippling waves of the water as he pulls up to their destination, a lake sequestered away and roughly hidden by trees and foliage, there is a quaint wooden dock leading to the watery oasis but not much less. He hums in contentment gazing at it, it is almost too peaceful to be true but they of all people deserve some peace after the hell they have been through. 

Mun-yeong stumbles out of the tiny bathroom of the van, peering out the window at the view, she stares at him bewildered, “A lake?” Why did you take us to a lake?” 

He shakes his head at her question, “To swim. Why else do people go to a lake?” He can hear his brother’s voice replaying in his mind, Why ask such an obvious question? 

With a glare she humphs crossing her arms in a symbol that he can read all too well- I’m not doing it- before stomping away, “I’m not swimming.” He watches her back as she defiantly strides back into the small compartment. 

He makes them a quick late breakfast of rice and grilled meat, scooping out a hefty amount for his grumpy girlfriend who has yet to leave the camping van. He had nagged and pleaded at the door, eager to get outside and see the lake, it was tempting especially on such a scorching day. But she had ignored all his calls, even childishly responded “I can’t hear you.” Before he had stomped away in the opposite direction, fondly irritated at her behavior. 

The van door creaks open as she finally decides to exit, he pointedly does not look up, not wanting to seem too eager at her arrival after she spitefully ignored him. He pushes the food in her general direction, not making eye contact. So she sits down on the unoccupied chair to his left, he is unprepared for the breadth of naked skin he sees when she does. 

With his fixed gaze on the food in his lap, the edges of his peripheral vision catch her bare legs, heeled sandals encase her foot but there is no material in sight on her legs. Just bare smooth, inviting skin. 

He gulps, reaching for his water. 

Drawing in a deep breath to reinforce himself, he slowly begins to raise his head, eyes traveling from her ankles to her smooth thighs, similarly naked before he stops on her torso. She is wrapped in a bathing suit, tight fitting and devastatingly distracting. The devilish suit is black and partially mesh, with her skin peeking through the stomach but solid across her breast and lower region. 

His tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, despite his desperate swallows of water to re-hydrate his heated body. Grabbing his food, he stuffs his face with rice and meat hoping that will prevent him from begging her to let him take her back into the van and peel that suit off her and.... 

“I am still not swimming, but I figure I can get a nice tan at least.” She offers as away of explanation, he nods robotically, eyes still trained on the ground. Before a white bottle is forced into his vision, he jumps back in his seat, eyes finally landed on her body completely. 

Unbelievable. 

The glimpse he saw does nothing to prepare him for the entire picture, she looks amazing in the suit as if it was made specifically for her body, knowing her taste and monetary capabilities; the idea isn’t too far-fetched and he curses whoever gave this weapon to her. Atop the bridge of her nose sits her glossy black sunglasses, the same ones she wore when he saw her outside, a beautiful black storm cloud under falling cherry blossoms. Her hair is pulled back into a high messy bun, two braids on her side that disappear into the bun, wisps of hair that escaped the bun frame her face beautifully. In short, she looks like the cover of a high-end fashion magazine and he is at a lost for words. 

His musings are prematurely interrupted by her waving something in his face, a thin container, “--Are you listening to me? Take off your shirt.” 

He shakes his head, almost dropping his bowl in shock. 

Only seconds away from taking another gulp of water before her request. He doesn’t miss the smirk that curls on her lips, he knew she did that on purpose. 

“What? What are you talking about?” He shakily asks, pulling his thin white t-shirt protectively around himself. 

She tilts her glasses down ensuring that he can see her eyes before dramatically rolling them, “You act like it’s something I haven’t seen before.”

“We’re outside though!”

“So what?” She fires back, looking at him, exasperation farrowing her eyebrows.

He breathes hard, their eyes locked in a heated battle, before he sighs accepting his fate, admitting to himself that he is not as opposed to the idea has he’s acting. Guilt settles in his stomach as he remembers the excitement that coursed though him as he realized that without his hyung, he would be alone with Mun-yeong.  All by themselves, at given times no one around for miles. No one to hear their screams. The idea of being alone and unencumbered with her was thrilling. 

In one fluid motion, he stands up and grabs the end of his shirt, carefully lifting it up and over his head. Standing in nothing but his slippers and dark blue swim trunks, the only pair he packed, unlike her who probably had endless suits of different styles and colors. In that way they were vastly different, he was practical and minimal whereas she was extravagant and larger than life. 

Her eyes burned on his skin as she stood up as well, carelessly tossing her food on the table, before curling her finger at him in a seductively beckoning call, “Come closer.” Her voice was smoked honey, as if in a trance he found himself obeying, stepping forward a half step, “Closer” and closer he went until he stood directly in front of her. 

She audaciously looked him up and down, tongue peeking out to swipe across the span of her pink mouth. 

Then with anticipation thick in his throat he watched her hands grow closer to his body, creeping closer and closer to his skin and then they were finally on him. 

He jolted at the cold. Jumping away from her hands. 

“What’s wrong with you? I told you I was going to put sunscreen on you.” Her eyes narrow and he feels a blush cover his cheeks, at his red face she lets out a long drawn ahhhhhhhhhh before speaking, “Why did you think I wanted you to take your shirt off? Were you expecting me to do something else?” She lifts one perfectly threaded eyebrow at the suggestive inquiry while simultaneously moving back into his orbit to rub the sticky white cream into his stomach. 

He lets himself enjoy her touch, deliberate ministrations into his skin, her face close enough for him to kiss and only a thread of control keeps him contained. Her hand strokes across his abs, fingers purposefully creeping into the crevices of his body before she trails her manicured finger down to his trunks, so close to where he wants her hand, panting now with anticipation, half hard just from her hand on his skin. 

Then she stops. 

Pats him on the shoulder with a clipped, “All done.” Impish look clouding her face, he glares at her departing back, the pep in her step; she knows exactly what she just did to him. The wink over her shoulder reinforcing his speculation. 

Damn, she-devil. 

When she begins to rubs the same sticky cream into her legs, slowly and wantonly, peering at him whilst she does it, his only solution is to run and dive straight into the water, welcoming the cool blanket that soothes the raging heat in his loins. 

He swims alone for a few minutes, propelling himself back and forth in the shallow water, before he eventually feels the twinges of boredom creeping in, this was meant to be their adventure, he didn’t want to swim alone, imagining wet kisses and wandering hands under the guise of the water.  All new experiences that he only wanted to share with her. 

With those thoughts in mind, he silently vacates the water, footsteps light as he tiptoes to Mun-yeong, glowy and alluring from her spot on the lounge chair she  pulled seemingly out of thin air. Sunglasses still shielding her eyes he waves his arm to see if they attract her attention, she lays motionless still, breathing steady and unhurried. 

Perfect. 

Now, knowing that she will not notice his approach, he creeps forward putting on his best imitation of a spy, avoiding twigs and leaves, anything that will alert to his presence. After a measured and timed approach, he looms over her, taking a moment to bask in her tranquil beauty. She is a goddess in that bathing suit and he wants to remember her face in this moment, in a few seconds she will be ravenous in his arms, clawing and thrashing. It is the perfect juxtaposition of her personality. A beautiful disaster. 

Before he can second guess himself- maybe she was right and he did have a death wish- he grabs her, lifting her out of the lounge chair and wrapping her securely in his arms. 

“YAH!” Her reaction is expeditious, nails scrapping across his arms as she tries to break free from his strong hold, he winces at the sharp burst of pain shaking her slightly to dislodge her, but her efforts do not hinder his mission. He laughs at her screams and threats, “Put me down! Gang-tae, I will kill you!” Gaining speed as he reaches the end of the dock, with a bounding leap he flies through the air, weightless, until they crash through the surface of the water. Water splashes onto the dock from their impact and his nose burns with the sudden influx of water, before he scrambles to the top, taking her now suspiciously limp body with him. 

The sight that greets him when they burst to the surface, makes his body go numb with regret. 

Her face is ashen, almost grey in hue, wet hair plastered to her skull. But what stands out most are her eyes, usually brimming with love and light for him, now sunken and packed with an emotion he never wanted to put there; fear. 

He can feel how rapidly she is breathing, her body shaking like a leave under his hold as he keeps her afloat, the air wheezes out through her colorless lips as she begins to convulse in his arms, he is paralyzed under her visible distress. 

She begins to keen, “Please, please, get me out. I need to get out!” The sorrowful plead that shatters into a scream breaks his heart into a million pieces, and with only a small hiccup he responds to her cries. Kicking his legs powerfully, swimming as quickly as he ever has in his life, arms protectively wrapped around her shuttering form until the reaches the bank. 

It takes a moment to for her to recognize that they are now on land but once she does she leaps from his arms, whipping around and racing to the camping van without another word. 

He is left shell-shocked. 

Standing alone, wracking his brain to figure out what caused such a visceral reaction and not coming up with an adequate answer. Then he realizes that is not important, all that mattered now was reaching her and comforting her, those eyes would haunt him forever otherwise. 

Dashing to her rapidly retreating form, he catches her arm, twirling her around to face him. 

The fragments of his heart, shatter into even smaller pieces. 

Twin trails of tear stream down her face, dripping off her chin before disappearing into the ground. 

“Mun-yeong...” He vocalizes her voice like an apology. 

She breaks the connection between their arms, turning once more to walk away and he can’t stand to see her walk away from him, not again, never again. 

Softly capturing her hand again, he begs, “Please, tell me what I did wrong?” 

Struggling to speak through her choked throat she replies, “I can’t right now. I just need to be alone for a bit, I’m not running away.”

Those words again. 

He wants to hold on tighter, recalling how she had run away after uttering those words before, viciously slamming all her doors shut and pushing him out. She reads his face like a children’s book. 

“I promise, I’m not running away, this time. So let me go, for now.”

Trusting her words, he releases her hand. Heart sinking as she climbs the stairs and disappears into the camping van. If the sun continues to shine, he is unaware, the dark clouds of shame and regret hanging over his forlorn head. 

“When I was young, I had dreams of my mom drowning in a lake.” 

His head buzzes at the confession, so intensely focused on the food sizzling on the grill he had missed her reappearance. Lowering the tongs to give her his full undivided attention as she bares another layer of Ko Mun-yeong. 

“My dad... I thought he drowned my mother in a lake. And every night I would have dreams about her screaming for my help. Sometimes when I have those sleep terrors, I can see her above me, her body is dripping wet. I....” She takes a pause, sitting down in a chair further away from him and he almost cries at that small amount of distance she is placing between them. 

But she is also wearing his flannel shirt, dwarfing her small stature, her fingers clutching it as if needing protection. 

Following a deep breath she presses on, “I haven’t been in water since. I’m....scared. I’m sorry that I’m already ruining this trip--”

He doesn’t allow those words to settle in the air for a second before he’s out of his seat and crouching before her, he begs for permission with his eyes, and watches as she ruminates before nodding, with a sigh of relief he gathers her cold hands in his own, warming them instantly. 

“You didn’t ruin anything. I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never want to make you cry, I told you I would protect you and I let you down. I am so sorry, please forgive me.” Tears pool in his eyes, as he presses his lips to her hands a kiss following each word of apology, anguish flooding his system. 

Silence fills the space between them as he continues to kiss sweet sorries into her skin before she wrangles her hands away, placing them softly on his downward chin, lifting his head until their eyes meet. 

Her dark orbs are now swirled with pain, love and something inexplicable. 

“I should be asking you to forgive me, I don’t want her on this trip. This is just for us, she can’t ruin this.” Her voice trembles despite the force that she exclaims her wish. 

He smiles grimly, “We can’t run from her. You once told me that trauma should be faced head on. You were right, we can’t be expected to be perfect yet. We’re only human, you didn’t do anything wrong. Thank you for coming back and letting me in.” 

I love you.  He thinks it hard enough for her to hear it. 

A sad smile slides across her face, “You’re so adamant these days, I can’t shake you. If I tried to run, you would probably chase me down.” 

He doesn’t verbally reply to her assumption, letting the resolve in his eyes speak volume instead, she has always been able to read him like a book, this time will be no different. 

She appears so delicate and fragile, he doesn’t even attempt to stop himself from crouching up and pressing a kiss to her lips. She moans at the barely-there touch, hands tightening on his face as she drags him closer, deepening the kiss with a languorous swipe of her tongue. He crawls into her space, tilting his face to transform the kiss from deep to dirty, mouths opening to prod and swallow each other. Her teeth graze across his bottom lip before, pulling it and releasing it with a filthy, pop. His dick jumps at the stinging sensation. 

Reluctantly he pulls away from the delicious kiss, worry for her overriding his sex drive, she hadn’t eaten since this afternoon, locked herself away since the lake incident and skipping lunch. It was more important that she get sustenance right now. 

She groans at his sudden withdrawal, blindly chasing after his mouth. He laughs at the adorable image. 

He presses a piece of grilled beef to her mouth instead, chuckling as she opens her eyes in doe-like surprise. He keeps that comparison to himself, she wouldn’t take kindly to him comparing her to self-proclaimed arch nemesis right now. 

“Eat this. My mouth doesn’t have any nutritional value.” 

Her face twists as if she is about to argue, but the booming growl of her stomach pierces the air and she blushes before opening her mouth and consuming the succulent piece of meat. 

Dinner passes by in a flurry of meat and rice, as they take turns feeding each other and she teases him to retrieve meat from her mouth. They talk about the future and all the places they want to go, he hasn’t smiled this much in his entire life. As he packs up their dishes and chopsticks, he sees her stretching, pulling her body taut from the motion. He wonders if she’s wearing anything under his flannel shirt, her bare thighs taunting him for a second time today. 

“I’m sleepy.” 

Like a Pavlovian whistle, his body reacts to the innocuous declaration. Images of their previous night together flood his minds, slamming her into the bedroom wall as he sucked wet kisses into her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist as she sensuously grinded into his erection, her head thrown back in rapture as they imitated sex through their clothes, both hungry as they ripped through the clothes, his eyes rolling back as he slammed into her tight pussy, her nails scratching welts on his back. The sweat on their bodies mingling and drenching her luxurious sheets. 

The soft click of the van door closing slaps him from the memory and it takes a moment to realize that he is now alone. 

He presses down on his erection, hard, embarrassed at how aroused just a memory of her can make him. 

Inhaling the crisp night air, he marches into the battlefield. 

The camping can is dark upon his entrance, the only illumination provided by the stray moonlight that filters in through the tiny windows, after his quick and efficient appraisal of the confined area, he realizes that she is nowhere to be found.  Strange. 

Scratching his head he wonders to his bed mat, pausing for a moment before making the decision to remove his shirt, confidence dominating the usual stream of shyness that floods his bloodstream. He lays down on his bed roll, comically similar to Mun-yeong as she had beckoned him to join her on the bed. He had been a fool then, to refuse such a desirable offer, but he wouldn’t be making the same mistakes ever again.  

The soft patter of her footsteps approaching causes his heart to skip a precious beat. Then it stops completely when she enters his line of vision. 

Temptation. 

That is the word that blares like a siren in his head as he takes her in, her hair is down in soft waves around her face, face washed clean and flawless in the light, and finally he looks at the short silk slip that contours to her every bump and curve. Spaghetti thin straps exposing edible shoulders, as the silk ends dangerously high on her thigh, lace dancing around the ends. 

Jaw permanently on the ground, he watches in dismay as she barely glances at him, wondering eyes fleeting across his abs almost too fast to catch, as she climbs the stairs to her bed, her ascent making the slip creep obscenely up her thigh almost giving him a wonderful glimpse at her ass. 

Pushing past the frog in his throat he croaks out, “Where are you going? I thought we would sleep down here together.” 

She absently arranges her sheets, moving them out of the way, putting her body on clear display for his starving eyes. With eyes that glow in the dark she calmly replies, “Why did you think that? It was your idea to sleep separated in the first place remember?”

Yes, he remembered. When Sang-tae was still on this trip with them, she had offered for Sang-tae to take the bunk bed and they sleep side by side. But he had declined anxiously, knowing that he would not be able to keep his hands to himself if they were sleeping in such close proximity, terrified at losing control so close to his brother. 

She seemed to take a malicious glee from throwing his words back in his face. 

“But that was before.” He whined, “I thought you were sleepy.”

He tried to subtly infuse meaning into the word hoping to remind of their last rendezvous. 

She didn’t bite. 

“I am sleepy, that’s why I’m going to sleep. Good night Gang-tae.” With a quick wave, she rolled over, facing away from him as he glared daggers into her back. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t see the smirk that overtook her face at his obvious frustration. 

Time ticked by, or it would have if they had a clock in the van. Instead he marked time with the sounds of crickets chirping in the forest. 

Chirp. 

Chirp. 

Chirp. 

Finally he sat up, tossing the blankets from his body as he gazed at Mun-yeong’s still form, the moonlight provided enough radiance to see her perfectly in the dark. He couldn’t resist the pale glow her skin, clearing his throat he called out quietly, “Mun-yeong? Mun-yeong-ssi? Are you awake? Mun-yeong?”

His calls went unanswered. 

He sighed. 

Then he picked up a shoe throwing it at the wall of the camping van, the sound deafening in the silence. She jolted up, with quicker reflexes than you would expect from someone who was deeply sleeping. “What was that?” She turned to him, shock on her face. 

Twisting the truth slightly he replied, “Um.. I don’t know. Sounds like something ran into the van. Probably an animal. But now that you’re awake I was wondering if you’re cold?”

There was a pregnant pause and he vaguely heard her whisper under her breath, “Ran into the van, my ass” before she spoke loud enough with the intention of him hearing, “No, I’m not cold. If you’re cold you should use Sang-tae’s blanket he left it for you.”

He rolled his eyes at her helpful suggestions, that was the last thing he wanted. So he pressed on, “I’m using that blanket too, but I’m still cold.” He gathered the blankets as he approached her bed, resembling a child fleeing to their parents room after a bad dream. 

“What do you want me to do about that?” She asked, still turned away from him and that made it effortless to ascend the stairs and slide into the bed with her. His body’s weight sinking into the bed, announced his presence and she looked at him in surprise. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cold.”

“I told you to deal with that on your own.”

“No, I want you to help me deal with it.” He pulled her into his arms, crushing her face into his naked chest. Minutely moaning at the smooth feel of her nightgown on his skin. 

With a huff of dramatic annoyance, she pushed him away, turning her back to him again before saying, “Fine you can stay. Please go to sleep, just go to sleep.” 

Their night at the guest house surfaces in his mind, her pleas for him as he coldly rejected her once again and begged her to sleep, suppressing his desire to take her right there and then. Karma was indeed, a dish that was best served cold. 

He now knows exactly what she’s doing and why. She is serving him a taste of his own medicine, showing him how he made her feel in those moments when he wasn’t quite ready to let her in, but wasn’t man enough to voice that to her either, so he lashed out and hurt her unnecessarily. 

Gathering his courage, he swallows his pride, “I’m sorry.”

Silence is his only reply. 

Then with a small move, she presses back into his chest, their bodies melding from shoulder to toe. 

He wraps his arms around her, humming at finally having her back in his arms. He holds his breath, waiting for the seduction to continue but she simply lays in his arms, contently playing with his fingers while he’s so hard he could hammer nails with his cock. 

With a casual grip he begins to play with her fingers too, moving their hands up until they are treacherously close to her breasts, ensuring that every swipe of his thumb on her hand also collides with her nipples. Her breath hitches when he catches her erect nipple, but she doesn’t stop him. 

Then he begins to undulate his hips, thrusting his boxer-clad cock into the silk of her slip, groaning at the intoxicating sensation before his control snaps like a rubber band and he surges forward, pulling her close and grinding into her with dark intentions. 

She hisses at his cock’s hard crash into her ass, “Aiish you sly fox, is this why you came here?” 

In lieu of responding to her obvious inquiry, he pushes his hand down the front of her gown, squeezing her breasts in his hand, harshly pinching the tight nipples until she moaned and squirmed in his hands. He pumped his thick length into her back, haphazardly catching her ass and the crease of her thighs with each rough thrust. With a punishing squeeze to her chest, he retracts his hands only to push his boxers down his hips, cock bouncing out in excitement, ready to play. 

His eyes roll back at the feel of her silken gown on his hot engorged skin, precum wetting the material obscenely, as the game ends and she is as enraptured as he is, humping back into him, vigorously. Ripping her panties off from under her nightgown, he tries to plunge a finger into her moist center, but his elbow knocks into the bed railing and he groans at the hindrance. She is a panting mess in his arms now, pressing back into his heavy thrusts, his cock catching on her wet folds, as they both moan in pleasure. 

“Can I try something?” Nerves prickly under his skin.

The question leaves his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. She stills at the sudden question but shakily replies, “Yes, just do it. Stop talking.” 

He laughs at her impatience, jubilant that she wants him with as much vigor as he wants her. Grabbing her around her waist, he hoists her up into a seated position before sitting up too, using that leverage to turn her upside down, before dragging her onto his body and he lays back down onto the bed. 

A perfect 69. 

She gasps at the sudden change in position, before looking back at him from over her shoulder, “I knew you were watching porn in the bathroom. Next time, come to my room we can do some hands on learning.” 

He swats her ass in retribution, “Now you’re the one talking too much.” 

She smirks pressing her lips together and he can’t help but joke, “Well you don’t need to close it completely, just put it to better use.” 

Eyes darkening from the proposition, she leans forward and swallows the head of his cock, wet mouth wrapping him in a squishy heaven. His hips subconsciously jerk forward, forcing more of his length in her mouth and she moans around the intrusion. 

Then he looks up at the feast before his eyes, her wet and open above him, primed to be devoured by his hungry mouth. He wastes no time in licking her folds, wiggling his tongue into the moist cavern and groaning as she moans at the sensation, vibrations tingling around his cock. They both set off to wreck each other, her tongue relentless as she slurps and licks every inch him, distracting him from wrecking her. At a particularly hard suck at his balls, he shoves two fingers into her, corkscrewing immediately and giving her little room for adjustment. 

He grabs her ass cheeks to pry her open further to his onslaught, twisting his fingers into her at the same time licking across her clit, pulling it into his mouth and humming at her addictive flavor. 

She pulls off his cock to shout, “Fuck.” Among other expletives and it’s good that he’s not a religious man because pure blasphemy falls from her sinful mouth. He misses the feel of her mouth around him, so he thrusts up wildly catching her mouth as he fucks into her, in perfect synchronization as he fucks into her with his fingers. 

She is a drooling mess above him, spit drowning his cock in a filthy river, he focuses on making her lose her mind as he feels his end growing near, tongue and fingers both hammering at her pussy, plunging, filling, worshiping. 

Her body twitches violently, drawn tight like a bow, before snapping its release and her juice rain down on his waiting face, bathed in her glory. 

His tongue never stops its lap at her until she keens in pain, “No more, it’s too much.” Reluctantly he pulls away, pretty swollen lips closing at his retreat, he kisses them one final time. 

Without warning, she leans forward and slides down his cock, pushing past her gag until he feels himself slide down her throat and two quick fucks into that constricting paradise is all it takes to shoot hot cum down her throat, his eyes roll in the back of his head. She swallows and swallows, until finally drawing off as the abundant cum dribbles on his naked thighs, some even pooling on the sheets. 

Collapsing to her side of the bed, it takes some effort to meet her eyes in their opposite positions, her head at his feet. But when he does, he sees all the love and fire he knows shines luminous in his own, he worries if this passion might just be too powerful for even them, might it burn them up leaving nothing but their ashes? 

What a way to go. 

He gathers her pliant body in his arms, moving her until she's sheltered in his arms, she will never have to sleep alone again, she has Gang-tae and Mang-tae. The doll now clutched tightly in her hand.

They drive for days before they come across a small town, pulling into a gas station to refill the van tank. They hadn’t yet emptied it since their first fill and he was working hard so they wouldn’t, loathing the idea of getting stranded on the side of the road with Mun-yeong. She would chew his head off. 

“Be careful.” He calls out to her as she wonders into the diner adjacent to the gas station, they’d she’d grown tired of rice and grilled meat and had decided to get some food at the nearest diner. He’d told her to go ahead and get them a table, while he refilled the camping van. 

He thinks about how far they’ve come on this journey, literally and emotionally. He has shared stories with her that he has never shared with another soul, not even Jae-su. Has experienced things he never thought he would be allowed to, this trip itself was a life long dream that he'd foolishly given up on but she showed him that it was okay to dream.

He didn't have to suppress his every whim or desire, was teaching him everyday that he was worthy of wanting and receiving.

With all those thoughts permeating his mind, he is completely caught off guard when he enters the diner and sees her menacingly looming over three young boys, a butter knife in her hand. "If you keep bothering her, your parents won't have children." Those are the words, he hears her utter, to children.

All who, trip over themselves fleeing from her screams of “A witch, a witch!” as they scamper back to their tables and said parents glare at the women dressed in black from head to toe, provoking their innocent children. 

She smiles at them, waving with the knife still prominently in her hand. He promptly snatches it from her grip, reprimand on the tip of his tongue before a small mouse-like voice cuts him off.

"Thank you lady. Are you a princess?" Appearing from behind the shadow of Mun-yeong's body, a thin child creeps out, twiddling her fingers as she gazes up at Mun-yeong like the stars are hung in her eyes. He's never seen a child look at her like that. 

"No. I'm not a princess. They weren't wrong, I'm a witch." She answers deadpan, twirling her fingers to add to the glamour.

She looks very much the part in a bellowing black dress with a full skirt and puffy sleeves, her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail with a black rose pin in the front. She towers above the young girl in shiny black leather pumps, that almost gleam under the fluorescent lights. Armor back on since the lake. 

He readies himself for the cries that her statement will evoke.

Flabbergasted when instead he hears, "Cool. You're the prettiest witch I ever saw."

Mun-Yeong preens at the compliment before turning to walk away, but the girl catches the material of her dress, rudely tugging it to get her attention.

The sharp eye at the hand on her dress is enough to make the girl immediately release it but Mun-Yeong peers down in question, "When I grow up will I be pretty like you?"

Without even a second to consider Mun-Yeong replies, "No. No one is pretty like me."

He watches the joy melt from the child's eye and opens his mouth to lessen the blow, take the sting off her too blunt words. But she beats him to it, "You shouldn't aspire for looks, you can't control that. Pick something you can control, like being strong so you can beat up your bullies." Her little shoulders perk back up and she beams at Mun-Yeong, his girlfriend's lip curl up at the side.

Before she walks into the diner, finding an empty table, he watches in shock as the young girl wordlessly trails after Mun-Yeong. The sight so familiar it knocks him in the heart. Just like flies to a fire, people like them were drawn to Mun-Yeong's light, the sparks that singed around her as she boldly did what you only dreamed of.

He joins them both at the table, and finally takes a good look at the little girl. She has a cute round face, rosy cheeks, her hair is pulled back in a disheveled ponytail, what stands out are her clothes, they are too put it kindly filthy. Tattered mess that hand off her thin frame and immediately the need to protect her overwhelms him.

"So what's your name brat?" Mun-yeong's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Min-jo."

He sends a warm smile in her direction, noting that her eyes haven't once left Mun-Yeong. Still he adds to the conversation, "Hi Min-jo, I'm Moon Gang-tae and this is my girlfriend Ko Mun-yeong. She writes children's books, maybe you've read one of her books before."

If her eyes were filled with adulation before, now it is tenfold as she jumps in her seat, "You write books? That's so cool! Do you like it? Are they fun? What are they about?"

Taking a sip of the water, the server brought them a few minutes ago with the menus, Mun-Yeong glances from the corner of her eye, before darkly whispering, "They're about chatty little brats who get eaten when they ask too many questions."

Min-jo's eyes widen in shock, little mouth falling into a perfect O, before her bell like giggles ring through the air, "You're so funny Ms. Witch!"

Mun-Yeong smiles back, a full face crinkling smile, at a child. Someone else's child. He is stunned into silence as he watches them converse, the kid ignoring Mun-Yeong's hint and asking her a million more questions. She even answers a few. He watches the miracle, stuffing noodles into his mouth, utterly charmed and bewildered.

When they've all finished their meals- he's still shocked at the amount of food such a small body was able to consume- he opens his wallet and places down the amount plus a hefty tip. He stands up and they follow his lead, Min-jo still trailing behind Mun-Yeong, before a voice stops her in her tracks.

"Oy! Where are you going? You know better than to bother the guests, get back here!" A woman in an apron waddles out, catching her by her arms preventing her from taking another step.

The woman bears no resemblance to the child, sharp where she is round so he wonders if that's her grandmother, before he asks the question aloud. Min-jo's head bends down until her face is completely hidden, "No. I'm an orphan I don't have anyone." Her voice is barely a whisper, lost in the wind as soon as it leaves her lips.

He watches Mun-Yeong tense at the word, eyes shifting back and forth between the two. Three orphans in one diner, the world's saddest story.

He wonders if that was what drew the girl to them in the first place. Destiny. Then he remembers what he overheard. Definitely destiny, Mun-yeong showed up when she needed someone to help her. 

If someone shows up when you need then, I call that destiny. 

Mun-yeong sniffs at the tears that are pooling in the child’s eyes, her own eyes dark pools that reveal nothing. 

"That's no excuse to feel bad for yourself, you can't control that either. Stop following me and learn how to be a leader, then one day when you're older you can make your own family. I did." Her words are matter of fact with no warmth yet he sees the hope they ignite on the child's face, her eyes large in wonder. Pride washes over him like a wave.

Mun-Yeong turns to leave, before promptly stopping and returning to the girl, bending down to meet her at eye level, "Tell those bullies that a witch gave this to you and if they tease you again it'll turn them into frogs." She unpins the black rose pin from her hair sliding it into the young girl's messy hair, her little hand comes up to touch it in wonder.

Tears swimming in her innocent eyes.

Without another word, Mun-Yeong leaves in a whirlwind of black cloth and witchy flair, and he watches Min-jo watch her, her seemingly cold words had been exactly the balm this child needed. He bids Min-jo farewell, bowing at the older woman who takes the young girl's hand, maybe not her biological grandmother but clearly she cares for her. He hopes they let each other know one day, their true feelings.

Love should be shared and acknowledged, unless what's the point of loving?

"You made her feel better."

She looks up at him from her place on the chair, passively, "I told her the truth."

He noticed a long time ago that she doesn't quite know how to respond to compliments, begs for them but once she receives them she quiets down as if taken back by their presence.

"You did really well Mun-Yeong, I'm so proud of you." Instinctively her head comes forward seeking his hand and he happily strokes his hand across her head, amazed by the woman he loves. He impulsively presses a kiss to her head as well, breathing in the floral aroma clinging to her hair.

That night as they lay together, no facades this time, she walks right over to him and slings into his arms, demanding that he stroke her head to help her fall asleep. He concedes happily. Too tired to try for anything more, he resolves to do it tomorrow. The thing that has been on his mind since he told her that he loved her.

He's going to ask her.

What's the point of having all this love and not showing her?

[dannyphantomisameme]

Happy New Year!

I’m your secret Santa @faebiie! I decided to write a fic that incorporated both themes you requested: angst and Danny and Clockwork bonding. I hope you like it!

Danny’s fingers fidgeted nervously as he stared blankly at the floor. He sat at the edge of his bed, having woke up from his blaring alarm thirty minutes ago. His hair was a knotted mess from all his anxious tugging, tufts of hair twisting and turning in awkward directions. Dark bags encircled his eyes, hinting that he hadn’t slept in the past week or so.

Today marked the fourth anniversary of Danny’s accident, but also the day he swore to tell his parents his secret. He’d been dreading this moment for so long. Danny knew his parents wouldn’t mind the fact that their child was half ghost, as they hadn’t in alternate timelines where he accidentally revealed himself, but he was still terrified at the mere notion of them knowing. There always existed that slight possibility that they might reject him. He hoped the chance was slim.

Jazz was fine with his secret. Within a few months after the accident, she stumbled upon Danny transforming and secretly aided him until it became imperative to tell him that she knew. Yet throughout, Jazz had always been supportive of him, so there was no reason for his parents not to, right? Wrong.

The Fentons parents were notorious for being the ultimate ghost hunting duo. Maddie, of course, was the brains of the operation, however, Jack did not fall short behind. Together, they made several breakthroughs in the realm of paranormal science, a field that had been regarded as pseudoscience till the Fentons came along. The duo firmly believed that ghosts were inherently sinful formations of post human consciousness. In essence, to Jack and Maddie, ghosts were abominations; objects that needed to be eradicated. Moreover, there was one ghost in particular that they absolutely despised, and that, by pure coincidence, had to be Danny.

Over the past four years, Phantom, Danny’s ghost persona, had become quite famous in the quaint town of Amity Park. By now, the majority of the town viewed Phantom as a hero since he stopped ghosts from attacking harmless humans on a daily basis. The Fenton’s, on the other hand, had convinced themselves that Phantom’s true intentions were to destroy the town once he’d gained their trust. And while initially, the Fenton’s had been working towards  terminating all ghosts, over time the duo has gradually lessened their hatred and become more open to the notion of ghosts as they now constitute daily life.

It might seem like inappropriate timing for Danny to tell his parents, but he knew he’d feel guilty if he didn’t sooner or later. He spent his entire high school shielding his true self from his parents and now that he would be off to college soon, he felt it fitting for them to know the real him. Plus, he’d definitely get made fun off by Sam and Tucker if he didn’t go through with his plan. For the past week, his friends had been hyping him up, ensuring him that his parents would be supportive and that he needn’t worry. Tucker even calculated that the likelihood of his parent’s supporting him was 90%. All Danny could do was worry about that 10%.

Letting out a groan, he swiftly laid back into his bed, closing his eyes. He tried to steady his breathing. In two, three, four. Out, two three four. He might’ve sat there for eternity, hoping to be engulfed by his bed and taken anywhere but here, but he was so rudely interrupted by Jazz’s knocking.

“Good morning Danny!” she said from behind the door to his room. “Come downstairs for some breakfast. Mom made your favorite!”

Bacon and eggs sounds so good right now. The thought of a nice breakfast pulled him into a sitting position, yet he was still hesitant to walk. Getting breakfast meant seeing his parents. Seeing his parent’s meant talking. Was he ready to talk? Absolutely not, but he needed to for his own sake.

Finally mustering up a bit of courage, Danny stood up, and headed towards the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. To put it briefly, he looked like shit. All this worrying had put him in a terrible physical state. He needed to get this done with and finally feel free.

As he finished up, Danny went back to his room, put on a shirt, and headed for the stairs. He reached the end of the hall and paused before going down, feeling a tight ball of anxiety forming in his chest. He stared at the carpet as if it were the source of all his worries. There was so much doubt in his decision, but he could also smell the sizzly aroma of bacon. And god, was he hungry.

He grabbed the railing beside him and slowly made his way down the stairs, one step at a time.

“Hey Danny!” called his mom’s voice from the kitchen after hearing his soft steps. “Come sit down, I’ve got your plate waiting for you.”

“Danno!” a bellowing voice belonging to his dad interrupted Maddie. “I knew you wouldn’t resist!”

Hesitantly, Danny walked towards the kitchen, not making eye contact with anyone. He sat in his usual seat at the dinner table, a plate stacked with his favorite food. He so badly wanted to snatch the plate and run to the safety of his room before anyone could speak. Around him, Maddie was in the kitchen making another batch of scrambled eggs. Jack and Jazz were seated at the table with Danny, eating away at their food. Although, Jack was simultaneously building some sort of ghost contraption.

“How’d you sleep sweetie?” Maddie asked.

Danny, having begun eating with a spoonful of eggs in his mouth, choked with wide eyes at the sudden question. He wasn’t ready to speak yet. Let me eat first!

“Good” he muffled in reply.

“Looks like you haven’t slept in days,” Jack remarked as he glanced away from his machine towards his son.

Jazz gave him a playful slap. “Dad, manners!”

“Whaaat? I’m just tellin’ the truth.” Jack gleefully smiled and returned to his food.

Danny brushed off the comment and continued to eat his food. Dad isn’t wrong, Danny thought. His heart was racing in his chest, anticipating an unfavorable conversation. He might’ve been eating too quickly as it garnered attention from his family.

“Woah slow down there Danny.” Maddie said as she brought the latest pan of cooked eggs from the kitchen to the dining table. Jack eagerly took a plateful. “You don’t want to choke.”

“‘’m good,” he repeated with food stuffed in his mouth.

“Anyway your dad and I are planning on spending the day in the lab if it’s alright with you kids. We’re so close to perfecting the Fenton Bazooka.” Maddie began washing the dishes.

Jazz stood up and left her finished plate next to the sink. “Sure mom. Danny and I will be fine.” Maddie smiled in reply as Jazz left for her room upstairs.

Once Jazz was gone, silence ensued as everyone carried on with their own tasks. Maddie washing the dishes, Jack tinkering and eating, and Danny finishing his breakfast. The mood was peaceful for everyone except Danny. His heart was pounding in his chest because sooner or later he had to say something. Shoving in the last bits of egg in his mouth, he could feel his heart quicken. It’s pace grew faster and faster, to a point where he felt his heart may as well explode out of his chest.

You have to do it. You’ll regret it if you don’t.

Just... SAY IT!

“Mom! Dad!” Danny said a bit too loudly, causing his parents to turn to his voice with odd looks “...I have something to tell you.” He kept his gaze focused on the empty plate before him. Was this really happening?

Maddie then suddenly lit up. “Oh Danny, I totally forgot! Would you like some more breakfast? We’ve still got some left.”

Danny shifted in his seat, not expecting that answer. He gripped the edge of his chair, feeling like he might fall over. Why are my palms so sweaty? “N-no it’s not that. It’s-”

“You sure? You never pass down your favorite breakfast!” Jack said with a side glance.

“Yea I’m s-sure.” Danny was tripping over his words. It was as if time was passing far quicker than how long it took him to formulate his thoughts. What was he supposed to say again?

“What I wanted to say was-” he paused. Danny felt weaker than ever. His grip on his chair tightened as he shut his eyes and attempted to center himself. He couldn’t. He did but didn’t want them to know. What if- what if-

JUST SAY IT ALREADY.

“I’m Danny Phantom.” the phrase came out like an exhale. Danny didn’t want to open his eyes.

No, that was a lie. He did want to open his eyes and see their reaction. He just wished he hadn’t.

Looking up from his plate, he first locked eyes with his dad. Jack’s face was as if he’d been hit with a blow. The normally boisterous man had been reduced to a mere shell of shock. Danny couldn’t discern what his dad was thinking.

Danny next glanced at Maddie. Whose brows were furrowed and eyes glued to the plate in her hand. The sink was still running. After a moment, she resumed her cleaning and turned to Danny with a smile.

“Heh, funny joke. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that you share first names with a scum like him, Danny.”

Jack quickly looked at Maddie, confusion etched into his features. “Mads…”

Danny, at the same time, also confused, looked at his mom. “I- I’m not-”

“Mads think about it.” Jack interrupted in an unusually soft voice. His unfocused gaze hadn’t moved from Danny. He stopped tinkering and slowly sank back in his seat. “It… it would make perfect sense.” Maddie now turned off the sink and turned towards her husband, crossing her arms.

“Jack, there is no way in hell our son is also a ghost. It is scientifically impossible.”

“...mom.” Danny shrank in his seat when his mom looked at him. He couldn’t tell her now. There’s no way she’d react the way he hoped. But… he would never forgive himself if he didn’t tell them. It took every fiber in his being to not turn invisible and flee. His heart picked up pace again as he averted his gaze to his hands which were now fidgeting in his lap. “I’m not lying. Please don’t get mad but b-back when u guys were building the portal, I was snooping around the lab like an idiot and I-I accidentally turned it on while I was inside.” Danny explained with a barely audible voice.  

“It would make so much sense.” Jack mumbled. “The portal activation… why our gadgets go off around Danny… why Phantom’s always got Fenton tech.” Danny hadn’t expected his dad to accept it so readily.

“Jack, you can’t be serious…” Maddie’s voice trailed off as if lost in deep thought.

“I- I can show you. I’m half ghost...” Danny couldn’t believe what was happening. This wasn’t what he expected. They were supposed to accept it and move on. No questions, no jokes. Then why were they so confused? There was no way this would end nicely. Danny could feel his anxiety crawling back and settling at the pit of his stomach. He wanted to curl up into a ball so badly.

It seemed Danny had been lost in thought for too long. He missed the moment his parents both locked eyes and came to an understanding.

In one swift move, Maddie pulled two ecto blasters from her jumpsuit while Jack followed suit. In a single second, the both were standing side by side with their weapons aimed at their only son.

Danny jumped back in his chair at the sudden change of attitude. It caused him to tip over and fall to the ground with his back now against the floor. His eyes were wider than ever shifting between his parents and their guns.

“I can’t believe you’ve tricked us thus far, spook.” Maddie spoke as if her words were laced with venom. “Where’s Danny?!” Maddie nudged her head to Jack who took off running down to the basement.

His heart raced even faster. Hands shaking. “M-mom. What do you mean? I’m Danny!”

Maddie spoke in an unnaturally calm tone. “As if we’d fall for that. How long have you been hiding our son?!”

“N-no no. Please. I’m telling the truth. I AM DANNY!” he shouted from the floor. “S-see look!” he gestured his hand along his frame. “It’s Danny! Please, I can show you Phantom.” He pulled his feet towards him, ready to stand up, but rather got interrupted.

Maddie took a step forward, cocking the guns in her hand. “NO! Stay where you are and don’t come any closer. Don’t you DARE claim you’re my son. You’re nothing but a bunch of of...  ectoplasm!”  Her emotions began to show through her calm facade.

At that moment, Jack came rushing up the stairs, large weapon in hand. “That’s right, spook. The bazooka may not be finished but that doesn’t mean it's not gonna hurt.” He aimed the gadget at Danny.

“Answer me. H-how long?!” Maddie’s voice quivered slightly.

Danny was horrified to speak. They really wouldn’t shoot him, would they? “I-I’ve been half ghost for four y-years now…” he barely managed to say. “I’ll show you…”

He found that cold feeling deep within his chest and let it surround him. Two blue rings encircled his waist and one traveled to his head while the other to his toes. As the ring passed, his raven locks were replaced with a silvery white sheen. His pajamas became the iconic black and white jumpsuit. His eyes, when opened, went from their baby blue to electrifying neon green. He’d become Phantom.

Maddie and Jack hadn’t said a word. Their goggles, which were now over their eyes, masked what they were truly thinking. Their weapons were still trained on their son, but their posture seemed to stiffen as if they were in shock. All this time, Phantom had hidden among them.

Danny dared to look up at his parents who still stood silent. He couldn’t take the silence.  “S-see?... say something...”’

Instead of words, Jack chose to reply with the whine of an ectoblast.

Jazz chose the moment to make her appearance as she walked down the stairs. “Why are you guys so loud…” Her eyes swept the room and landed on her little brother's ghost form. He turned to look at her voice, raw fear seeping through every inch of his features and eyes brimming with tears. It took Jazz a moment to understand the situation, but she was too late.

“Danny!” Jazz sped towards her brother as a crackling green ray fired from Jack’s weapon, making its way towards Danny and hitting him squarely on the chest. Danny flung back into the wall, clutching his chest with one arm which burned so very badly. He could feel every nerve in his chest searing with pain. It was worse than any blast he’d received before.

His breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t fight back. They were… they were his parents! Why would they hurt him? Why… why couldn’t they understand?

Jazz was now sitting next to her brother, shocked at the sight of the nasty, bubbling burn. “What did you do?!” she shrieked at her parents.

“Jazz get away from that- that thing! He’s brainwashed you!” Maddie cried as she rounded the table and grabbed Jazz by the arm.

“N-no STOP IT! You’re hurting Danny!” Jazz wrenched her arm under her mom's grip, but her attempt was poorly made as she was pulled towards Maddie right as Jack fired a second blast from the gun. Tears freely flowed from Jazz’s turquoise eyes. Danny had zero time to react before-

Before the blast had frozen in thin air a foot before him. No, that wasn’t true, everything froze. His parents and Jazz. They were all still. What?

Danny felt the coolness of a time medallion on his neck. Suddenly, a swirl of blue appeared before Danny and out came a familiar specter.

“I normally don’t interfere with the events of time, but you seemed like you needed it.”

Danny’s breath came out raspy “...Clockwork?”

The master of time nodded with a smile and outstretched his hand. “Come my boy. Before the Observants find out.”

With one hand still clutching his chest, Danny took Clockwork's hand and stood up shakily. The blue swirls encompassed the two as they were transported to the ghost zone. Specifically, to the living room within Clockwork’s lair.

Danny took a deep breath as he gradually took a seat on the couch behind him. His head was pulsing and the pain from the ecto ray hadn’t subsided. Around him, several clocks and gears lined the wall, all ticking or moving synchronously. Before him sat numerous screens displaying several different events surrounding him.  What he was witnessing went beyond any imagination.

“I had to interfere for your own good.” the master of time said as he floated into the room with a first aid kit in hand. He pulled out a burn ointment and began catering to Danny’s wounds. Danny hadn’t noticed, but at some point, he had transformed back to his human self. Danny hissed at the feeling of the cream on his wound.

Clockwork looked up and followed the halfa’s gaze to the screens. “What you’re seeing is the various alternate timelines in which you reveal your secret to your parents at this point in time. In all scenarios, they don’t take it, uh, lightly.”

Danny couldn’t believe it. On one screen, his parents were chasing after him around the city. In another, they had him strapped to a table. Before he could watch some more, Clockwork shut them off.

“I’m going to be blunt, but unfortunately, no matter the circumstance, your parents never accepted you in this moment of time.”

Danny hadn’t averted his gaze from the screens yet. He was still in awe of it all. The alternate timelines, his parents, the blast. He managed to squeak out one word. “Why?”

“Their puny human minds can’t comprehend the duality of your being.” Clockwork said as he now took out a set of bandages from the kit and began wrapping it along the boy’s torso. “Thus they reject you.”

“Y-you can’t be serious.” My parents? Hating me? “...impossible.”

“You witnessed it for yourself. They hurt you. Was that not enough?”

“N-no. They're my parents! They’re supposed to love me no matter what!”

Clockwork got up, slightly angered, unlike his collected self. “You call that love?!”

“I-” Danny was at a loss of words. No matter what Clockwork told him, he couldn’t wrap his head around his parents not believing him. It all felt like one sick joke. He wanted to throw up. Despite the horror of the situation, there was still one question gnawing at him. “W-why are you helping me?”

Clockwork turned so his back was facing Danny and paused. “I cannot let you suffer. Especially after everything you’ve done for our realm... You didn’t deserve the destiny given to you. After all, you were only fourteen when you received your powers. My interference was merely nothing compared to what you’ve dealt with. Your kind is so rare as well. I cannot let you perish.”

It was odd of clockwork to act so carelessly. Risking his position as the master of time just to save a teenage boy with paranormal powers was, well, weird. But from what Danny had heard just now, it seemed that Clockwork was firm in his decision.

At this point, Danny didn’t want to think anymore. His brain felt like mush from all the events that had transpired. Mom. Dad. Jazz… what were they doing right now? What were they thinking of him? Did they really believe he was-

“Get some rest. I’ll bring you some food when you awaken.” Clockwork said.

Danny decided it was best to follow Clockwork's orders so he managed a mumble as he lowered himself into a sleeping position on the couch. “Mmm?”

Clockwork floated next to the boy and patted his raven matted hair. “Sleep well Daniel.”

Danny quickly dozed off on the blue sofa, unaware he had found his new family. <3

[fairy-writes]

Hola 👋☺️

I hopped on you acc and saw ur matchups open so may i ask for one ? 🥺.

Im so sorry its gonna be long so bear 🐻 with me.

May i ask for KNY, OPM and JUJUSTU KAISEN matchup please?

Im 5'2", short black boy cut hair, dark choco eyes,i have myopia and wear glasses,im chubby too, my style is anything that complements my body also looks cute.

I dont have a favorite food but i absolutely despises sweets(or anything that contains sugar or milk). But i love Spicy 🔥 foods. I love lofi/reverb/slowed version of songs.

Coming to main points, I LOVE THE SKY, CLOUDS, STARS, MOONS,WIND AND BIRDS. I feed bout 50-70 pigeons everyday(they are the local pigeons of ny neighborhood) its a sight to behold, most of my neighbors have recorded it.

In a relationship i am th biggest supporter of my partner, I'll alway be there for them no matter what situation I'll be in. I really want a guy who is super sweet and kawaii but strong and responsible underneath but won't show that. Going on dates twice a week, CaRinG and ProTeCtiVe. He'll be the sun 🌞 and ill be the moon 🌙. Any kind of date is fine with me. Love language is Quality Time and words of affirmation. Im okay with holding hands and forehead kissing (too much sappy?). StArGaZiNg. The kind of guy to buy all ice cream flavour for you bcus u said u crave one but didn't mention the flavour. The kind who knows you're in a bad mood by hearing you voice. The kind to show up at your school or college to pick you up. The kind to cheer for you when you're giving a presentation or receiving a prize.

I apologize for it being so long (ಥ╭╮ಥ). No rush take your time. I can understand writing matchups and hcs takes a lot time to think it through cuz i used to own a tmnt matchup blog too. So don't worry ☺️ 😉 ill be here.

Hello lovely! I hope you like your matchups! Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember whether you wanted male or female, so I hope this is okay! This will probably be the one and only OPM matchup I do. I’m just not familiar enough with the characters to do multiple matchups.

Demon Slayer Matchup: I pair you with… Rengoku Kyojuro!

Rengoku is taller than you at 5’9 ½,” and he loves your glasses! He is always complimenting you and your sense of style too! He’s also a massive fan of spicy foods, so the two of you bond over going out to find the spiciest bowls of udon you can!

The two of you spend a lot of time outdoors together. Rengoku particularly likes sunrises and likes to wake up early (or stay up late, depending on when he works) to watch it every morning! He also thinks it’s fascinating that you feed so many pigeons every single day!

Rengoku is your biggest supporter, so the two of you are both balls of sunshine supporting each other! Sanemi refuses to look your way when the two of you are together because you are too much for him to handle (really, he’s just jealous he doesn’t have a S/O). His love language is likely physical touch and words of affirmation. He loves to hold your hand in public to make sure you don’t get lost and loves to tell you how much he loves you!

One Punch Man Matchup: I pair you with… Genos!

(sorry if he doesn’t exactly match, there are not many options in OPM, and I’m an anime-only person)

Genos is a whopping 5’10” and loves you with every fiber of his being! More than he loves learning from Saitama, and that’s saying something! He doesn’t have a preference for food. He’s a cyborg, after all (can he even eat? idk).

One thing Genos loves to do is scoop you up and hold you on his back piggyback style and give your rides so you can fly through the clouds and the sky since you love them so much! He also helps you feed your pigeons every day without fail. He likes the simplicity and monotony of it.

He loves that you are such a big supporter of him and his hero work! He tries to keep you out of his hero work as much as possible for your safety, but over time, he slowly lets you in. His ideal date is just staying in and cuddling with a movie and popcorn over going out to a fancy restaurant. He just likes keeping you safe!

Jujutsu Kaisen Matchup: I pair you with… Yuji Itadori!

(this is a platonic matchup since Itaori is under 18)

Itadori is the shortest out of the three matchups at 5’8”! He has more of a sweet tooth than you do but loves all food! I mean, if he can handle eating fingers, I don’t imagine he’s too picky about what else he eats. So go and hang out at fun food joints and order tons of spicy food! He’s also down for a challenge so find spicy food challenges to take him to!

The two of you spend a lot of time outside. Whether that’s going on jogs (which Itadori loves) or just cloud watching (which sounds more your speed), it’s okay with him! He’ll also happily help you feed your pigeons and even names all 50-70 of them! Can he keep them straight? Nope. But does he try? You bet he does!

Even though you two aren’t dating, you still support Itadori in everything he does! You support him in his endeavors to find all of Sukuna’s fingers and in his schoolwork! He isn’t the most responsible; he’s actually a bit airheaded. But he tries his best! Overall, 10/10 would recommend this boy as your best friend!

[ravenbrenna09]

Jij Verliest - Chapter Seven: Clips 9-11

master list

...

Donderdag 18:03

Sander: Hey, how was your stream?

Robbe: It was okay. Were you watching me? Because I literally just hit ‘end stream.’

Sander: No, I’m just now leaving work. Did you want to meet up for dinner?

Robbe: I can’t today. I’m going to meet my mom for dinner. Thursday is our weekly dinner.

Sander: Right, of course. For some reason, I thought it was Wednesday. Which is all the more reason for my text.

Robbe: What text?

Sander: Pack a bag when you get home.

Robbe: What for?

Sander: It’s a surprise ;) But make sure you bring a swimsuit and some shorts.

Robbe: What? What do I need a swimsuit for? Sander?

Sander: It’s a surprise, Robbe. The point is for you not to know.

Robbe: I’m not the biggest fan of surprises.

Sander: It’s a good one, I promise. Just getting some alone time is all.

Robbe: Okay. Does that mean I’m not streaming this weekend?

Sander: Just Saturday. I’ll have you home in time to stream on Sunday ;)

Robbe: Okay, I’ll pack a bag when I get home from dinner.

Sander: Great :) I’ll pick you up at 17:30 tomorrow? My shift ends at 17:00.

Robbe: I’ll see you then.

Sander: Yes :) Call me later?

Robbe: Of course. Wouldn’t miss it :)

…

Donderdag 18:28

As soon as Robbe stepped into her apartment, he could see the knowing look on his mama’s face. Her lips were upturned into a smile and her eyes followed Robbe into the apartment. As they were sitting down to eat their takeout (because his mama had to work late and was too hungry to cook), his phone vibrated on the table. Once the vibration started, the chorus of Rebel, Rebel played shortly after. Robbe rushed to turn it off, knowing it was a text from Sander, and fought the grin he knew was growing on his lips.

His mama watched his actions with a knowing look in her eyes. In an attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks, Robbe ducked his head. But avoiding her gaze did not stop her from asking, with a teasing tone, “Since when do you listen to David Bowie?” 

Robbe giggled, feeling his cheeks flush a little more. “I’ve been listening to him recently is all,” Robbe said, shrugging. He bit his lip and didn’t look up at his mother. “His music is amazing.” 

“Ah okay,” his mother said. From the light tone of her voice, Robbe could tell that his mother wasn’t buying it at all. She crossed her arms at the edge of the table and turned towards him with a critical eye. “Well, you certainly look happier than you did last week,” his mama said. She leaned towards him with a bright smile on her face and asked, “Does this have to do with Sander? Did you two figure things out?”

Robbe could feel the blush rising on his cheeks and dipped his head down a little further. His mother let out a giggle as Robbe said, “Yeah, we did and we’re together now.” His mama grinned excitedly at him, her dimples popping. “After work on Friday, he came over and we talked about what happened.” They didn’t talk until the morning, but Robbe was never going to admit that to his mother. “He spent the weekend and we went out to dinner on Tuesday.”

His mother smiled. “That’s so sweet, I’m happy for you,” his mama said. As Robbe placed his phone on silent and deposited his phone into his pocket, his mama dumped the contents of her to-go container onto the plate in front of her. Once his mama glanced up, catching his eye, she added, “I can’t wait to meet Sander.” Robbe swallowed. “I can see that he makes you so happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“About that—” Robbe started. 

“What? Does he not make you happy?” his mama asked, confused. 

“No, no, he does,” Robbe said, smiling. “I promise.” His mama nodded her head. As Robbe struggled to find the words, she kept herself angled toward him as she cut up her food. “I was thinking about you meeting him.” His mama stayed quiet, keeping her eyes focused on him, but Robbe could still see the confusion and worry in her eyes… and he hadn’t even asked the question yet. “Sander and I were talking the other day and he has next Thursday evening off, so I was wondering if you might want to meet him then?” 

“I’m not sure,” his mama said, taking a bite of her food. Once she swallowed, she continued. “I know how important he is to you. I want to make sure that I meet him on a good day so I don’t scare him away.” The words made Robbe’s stomach twist—because Robbe knew that she would never scare anyone away—but he kept quiet. “So, maybe, we’ll talk about it next Wednesday? That way we can put everything together and make sure it's a good day for me.” 

Since the moment that his father had left them when he was 15, Robbe had vowed that he and his mama would be a package deal. Robbe loved his mama with everything he had and he wanted her in his life for as long as he could manage. Because his father left when things got too much, Robbe was left to help her with the pieces and took care of her on the days where she couldn’t get out of bed. 

And his mother knew this. 

Maybe it was why she put so much pressure on having a good day when she was meeting his boyfriends and why she was always sad when Robbe insisted on coming over on bad ones. On his mother’s bad days, Robbe felt it tenfold and took care of her because he knew that was what she needed. Sometimes, she welcomed his help, knowing that she needed to be taken care of occasionally. Other days, she despised it and it made her feel like a burden. 

At the end of the day, Robbe loved his mama with every fiber of his being and he would always take care of her. His mama loved him just as much—if not more. Since the months she spent in the hospital, Robbe wanted to do anything he could to help her feel better. He knew that he could never completely help her the way that she needed—he wasn’t her doctor nor was he studying to become one—but he wanted to help with the little things, such as washing the dishes or helping with dinner. 

And, if she insisted, he would wait so she could meet Sander on a good day, knowing that it would help relieve her anxiety. 

It was why, instead of arguing, Robbe reached over to take her hand. She gripped his hand back, shaking slightly, and Robbe pretended not to notice. Running his thumb along the knuckles of her hand, Robbe said, “We can play it by ear. I just wanted to ask you before I asked him.” Smiling, Robbe added, “I just really want him to meet my mama.” 

“I really want to meet him, too,” his mama said, sounding calmer. “Maybe we can talk on Tuesday and set it up.” Robbe nodded, grinning over at her. Before Robbe turned back to his food, she added, “But, if I’m feeling bad on Thursday, we can reschedule to the following week.” 

“Alright, Mama,” Robbe said. “Whether it’s next Thursday or the one after, it sounds wonderful and I know Sander will be excited to meet you.” 

His mama smiled, turning to her food. Letting out a laugh, she pushed herself to her feet and moved to the microwave as she took her container with her. Giggling, she said, “We talked so long that our food is getting cold. Do you want me to heat yours up, sweetheart?” Robbe shook his head and his mama smiled at him before turning back to the microwave.

…

Vrijdag 18:39

No matter how much Robbe asked, Sander remained tight-lipped about where they were going. 

During their phone call after Robbe got home from his mama’s, he pestered Sander into giving him information but the only response he got was a teasing smirk and a, “Do you not know the definition of a ‘surprise,’ Robin?” Throughout the rest of the call, Sander had teased him about what they were going to do but gave no real details or explanations. The teasing had only increased the nervous and exhilarating buzz that was present beneath his skin.

Not knowing where they were going frustrated Robbe to no end. 

However, at the same time, he was also eagerly anticipating whatever it was that Sander planned for their weekend getaway. Throughout his Friday afternoon stream—moved up to accommodate their trip—he was frequently phasing out of the match and getting killed when he shouldn’t have. About halfway into the second hour of the stream, his chat had a frightening realization and started screaming, or posting in all caps, “OH MY GOD, HE’S GOT A NEW BOYFRIEND,” which simply led to Robbe blushing profusely. 

Once he ended his stream, right at 17:00, Robbe made one last check that he packed everything that Sander had told him to bring as well as other necessities. Swimsuit, shorts, shirts, underwear, phone charger, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush… Robbe had packed everything. Now, all he had to do was wait for Sander to arrive at the flatshare to pick him up. As Robbe paced around his room for the fourth time, his phone dinged, announcing Sander’s arrival. 

Sander: I’m downstairs ;)

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, Robbe exited his bedroom and stepped into the hallway. Making sure to grab his phone and keys, he shouted goodbye into the nearly-empty apartment and practically flew toward the elevator. Outside the building, Sander was leaning against the passenger side door and grinned flirtatiously at him as Robbe approached.

“Where are we going?” Robbe asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. 

Sander leaned down to kiss him and Robbe eagerly stood on his toes to meet him. Sander’s arms wrapped low on Robbe’s waist, pulling them flushed together. Robbe wrapped his arms around Sander’s neck, tugging him closer. Sander let out a low noise before pulling back. “Come on,” he said. Sander stood from against the door, taking Robbe with him, and opened the door with one hand. “We better get going.”

Robbe raised an eyebrow. Sander’s hand on his waist guided him toward the door. “But where are we going?”

A teasing smile spread across Sander’s face. “Get in the car and you’ll see.” 

“Sanderrrrrrr.” 

Once Robbe got in the passenger side, tossing his bag in the back seat, Sander closed the door behind him and moved to the driver’s side. Before they drove off, Sander started the David Bowie playlist. While Robbe wasn’t surprised, he also recognized the playlist immediately. Whenever the two of them were together, the playlist was always playing. Sander turned up the volume, sending him a grin, as Robbe simply rolled his eyes. Before driving away, Sander leaned over to press one final kiss against his lips. 

Throughout the drive, Sander held Robbe’s hand and quizzed him on the songs that came through the speakers. With each correct answer, Sander would beam over at him and squeeze his hand. Whenever he was struggling, Sander would give him hints and tease him the entire time. If he got a question wrong, Sander would tell him and remark that he needed to “study up” for his exam. 

After an hour of listening to David Bowie, Sander exited the highway. Still gripping Robbe’s hand, he navigated down long roads without pausing. Even though he could sense they were getting close now, Robbe still did not have a clue where Sander was taking him. As Sander guided them with expert ease, Robbe stared out the window, his eyes finding the large trees that stretched to the sky.

Unexpectedly, Sander slowed down and the blinker of the car flipped on. After a few minutes of wandering down a dark, narrow road, they emerged into a clearing with a cabin perched in the middle of it. 

The cabin was beautiful with a teal door that contrasted beautifully with the dark wood siding. The wall in front of them had large windows that peered into the living room and part of a beautiful kitchen. As Sander drove up to the cabin, Robbe could see a large backyard with a patio and possibly a pool behind the house. Once the car pulled to a stop, Robbe turned to Sander, who was staring at him nervously. 

“Do you like it?” Sander asked. 

“I do,” Robbe said. “But how much did this cost?”

“Didn’t cost anything.”

“Sander—”

“It didn’t cost me anything,” Sander said. He sat up in his seat and cupped Robbe’s cheek, swiping his thumb along his cheekbone and connecting the freckles. Without really thinking about it, Robbe leaned into his touch as Sander watched him with soft green eyes. “It’s Emilie’s cabin. When I mentioned getting out of town to surprise you, she offered the cabin. Normally, they come every weekend. I’ve been invited a few times. Alicia has a test on Monday so they aren’t coming this weekend.” 

“Really?” Robbe asked. 

“Really.” 

Sander leaned forward, connecting their lips. At first, the kiss was gentle and chaste; but the realization of them being alone without having to worry about roommates or streams was enough to break the proverbial dam of emotions. They hadn’t stepped out of the car, but their kiss became deeper, needier, and borderline desperate. 

Robbe tugged at the fabric of Sander’s work shirt, trying to pull him closer, but the hindrance of the console between them stopped Sander from being able to do so. One of Sander’s hands fisted at the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling enough to be pleasurable. His other hand dropped to Robbe’s waist, pulling his hips flush against the center, before slipping his hand beneath his shirt. Robbe gasped, trying to pull him closer, but to no avail. The console was still lodged between them. 

Sander let out a sigh, breaking the kiss. “Come on,” he said, turning the car off. Reluctantly, he untangled his hand from Robbe’s hair and reached in the backseat to grab the bags. “Let’s go inside.” Robbe nodded. Before he could manage to snag his bag, Sander was taking it out of his reach and stepping out of the car. Robbe stared at him in disbelief before climbing out of the car.

As Robbe stared up at the cabin in awe, Sander wrapped an arm around him. Robbe turned toward him, snaking his arm around his waist. “So, you didn’t spend money on this?”

“Not a dime,” Sander said matter-of-factly. Robbe let out a sigh of relief. “If you and I go out to get some food to cook later, I definitely will pay for it though. But even if it was the priciest cabin in the world, I would still do it because there is nothing in this world that is too expensive for you.”

Despite already knowing the answer, Robbe said, “At least let me pay for something.”

“No.”

“Sander.”

“No,” Sander said matter-of-factly before pressing a featherlight kiss on his lips. Robbe whined, trying to pull him closer, but Sander simply smirked and moved to the front door. As Sander fumbled with the extra set of keys, Robbe stood back, watching him with an amused grin. After a few minutes, the teal door swung open and Sander pulled him into the safety of the cabin. 

Immediately after stepping into the living room, there were two thumps somewhere behind him. 

Robbe turned, catching sight of their bags abandoned on the floor, before Sander was claiming his lips again. Robbe wrapped his arms around Sander’s shoulders, bringing their bodies flush together. They stumbled against the wall—Sander’s hand protectively cradling the back of his head before trailing down his body. They could’ve kissed for minutes or hours or maybe even days, simply lost in the feeling of being together and alone.

After their kiss, which felt like a glimpse of forever, Sander pulled away from him. 

His green eyes were blown wide and his lips were teetering on the edge of bright red. Robbe was certain that he didn’t look much better. But right now, he didn’t care. All he wanted was Sander, kissing him again, chasing that glimpse. 

“Come on,” Sander said. He sounded as wrecked as Robbe felt, his impatience threatening to overwhelm him. Sander tugged at the hem of Robbe’s shirt, pulling him from the wall and into an unfamiliar hallway. Without question, Robbe followed his movements, walking backward with Sander guiding him. He bent down, his lips brushing against Robbe’s as he said, “I’ll give you the grand tour.” 

[ladyhindsight]

It would be entirely untruthful to say that the punctuation in Clare’s writing does not surprise me anymore because we’ve gone way past that line long time ago. It’s nothing short of exasperating, but I am constantly surprised at myself how much aggravation I feel over it every single time. I want this whole series as a manuscript and a red pen. 

→ “The trees seemed to lift away as a ridge rose above them. Clary blinked when they turned to the corner of a high hill. Unless her eyes were deceiving her, there were houses down there.”

All the sentences stand strong on their own and aren’t closely enough related to warrant the use of comma or em dash. Though “and” between the clauses isn’t wrong, it weakens the structure of the paragraph by unnecessary elongating the sentence. However, the em dash actually makes no sense to be there.

Someone taking care of the City of Bones in Alicante is evident from the following context. It’s unnecessary to state the obvious beforehand, though it is an alright observation Clary makes. If you alter some things in the following description, the effect of showing renders the highlighted sentence useless.

→ “The marble gleamed freshly scrubbed and the grass was evenly cut.” For example, removing “as if” removes the impression of the graves probably being taken care of and expresses directly that someone is taking care of the place.

→ “There were bunches of white flowers laid here and there on the graves. She thought at first they were lilies, but their spicy, unfamiliar scent made her wonder if they were native to Idris.” (an alternative way to write the rest of the sentence, which is more straightforward and trimmed.)

→ There are couple changes in tense in the same paragraph, so it could use more divisions. For example the clause “Each tomb looked like a little house” could be the beginning of a new paragraph (and also should end in PERIOD.)

Period.

It’s not a healthy narrative to push that all Jace can care about is Clary all day every day, and when he doesn’t actively do that he is condemned. Jace having whatever-you-call-it with Aline does not negate the fact that Jace cares deeply for Clary even when having romatic-ish relations with someone else. Yet here Simon presents the case as either-or.

It is also worth mentioning once again that no character is willing to address Clary and Jace’s relationship as it stands, i.e. incestuous (although just believed to be at this point). To me it is a sign of author’s bias bleeding into the writing because the narrative is incapable of presenting differing opinions on such controversial topics or taboos. It doesn’t discuss what Jace and Clary think they have or address it in any substantial way.

Simon’s idea of not hurting Clary is confusing. A moment later he admits to Clary being very quiet about Jace yet here seems to believe that Jace saying what Jace has already said wouldn’t end up hurting Clary. She’s already hurt. What is the point of this? I’d imagine that Jace telling the opposite, that they could run away together where no one knows them, would make Clary happy.

The narrative also continues to feed Jace’s character because he’s emotional life and responses, mood changes, behavior that is somehow unexpected etc. control the way other characters feel about or respond to him. And it is consistently so that Jace does not have to alter his feelings or behavior but other characters modify theirs around him.

→ “All of us. The Clave and the Law. What Clary can do overturns everything they know to be true. No human being can create runes or draw...”

Implying the old ways were ever the right ways while the series increasingly has shown the old ways being pretty shitty.

“With some surprise” was such a constant sentence in City of Ashes that I have come to despise it with every fiber of my being. It adds nothing, it sounds stupid, and I hate it. If I could burn a sentence, it would be this. 

→ “There’s no one around,” she observed (, surprised).

Occasional rifle has yet to make an appearance. What about rifles make them otherwise inefficient against demons? How about air rifles? Plasma guns?

Now that I think of it, I would correct the whole shebang.

→ “She wasn’t sure why she felt so terrified; she’d seen Luke Change before. He’d never harmed her, but the terror was an uncontrollable living thing inside her.”

→  “Her her was a tangled gray-brown cloud escaping from two long braids. Her blue eyes were familiar.”

Simon is watching what is happening and feeling himself tensing → No comma.

Simon’s stand on Jace and Clary’s relationship is confusing. Jace must make sure that nothing romantic comes out of this, which, according to Simon, prevents Clary from being hurt (but he already feels she must already be). Yet Jace should be all about Clary all the time, and when Jace shows himself being romantically inclined to any other girl, Simon feels like Jace doesn’t care about Clary when he doesn’t obsessively brook over and think about her.

What about this makes any sense or promotes having more than one deep and meaningful relationship?

How about Simon gets a life outside Clary and Jace’s relationship so he wouldn’t have to narrate it to the readers or act as Clary’s personal cheerleader.

[liveyourlastbreath]

Slipping (Neil Angst)

This isn’t great, I didn’t even edit it I just needed to get this out of my brain

Rain reminded him of his mother, as did the cigarette dangling between his fingers. Fall in South Carolina meant rain, and this year had been no exception. It was cold, colder than usual and yet the two had found themselves sitting on the wet roof once more. Andrew sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the building, with the white and tan tube sitting between his lips and his hoodie strewn off to the side. Neil was staring, he had started doing that a lot more lately. Andrew had stubble, and Neil found that it was an immediate turn on for him. The short blonde felt his stares, and pushed Neil's head so it was looking the other way. "Stop." He bit out, then took a long drag and then the smoke drift off with the wind.     

"Make me." Neil's tongue was a force of chaos, always getting him into trouble. And that was no different this time, Neil knew he had won when Andrew threw both their cigarettes in the nearest puddle and hissed out, "Yes or no?"     

"Yes." Andrew shoved Neil down, pinning him with his hips and taking his mouth in his. Neil gladly let him, keeping his hands above his head before Andrew grabbed Neil's wrists and guided them to his waist.    

This was what he wanted, this was what Neil always wanted. He didn't want to think about how Andrew would be leaving the coming summer, he didn't want to think about how the dates of what had happened were coming for them fast. Neil didn't want to think about anything, just Andrew. It was always Andrew.     

 Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.    

 Andrew tried to pull away when one of their phones buzzed, and Neil jumped in at the chance. "You need to stop with the neck thing." Andrew muttered through a shutter.     

"Shut up." Neil hummed, pulling Andrew closer.    

 It was a while before they both sat up again. Neil's hoodie was soaked, has Andrew had decided to pin him down right in a puddle. But he didn't care, not when Andrew was so close. Not when he kept a lingering hand on Neil's thigh, slowly moving up and staring straight ahead. Neil followed Andrew's gaze, then let his eyes fall to the ground below.    

 It was far, four stories down with cement at the bottom. He understood why Andrew despised heights, why he hated falling. And why he hated Neil, that one he very thoroughly understood. "Let's go inside, my hoodie is soaked." Andrew didn't respond, instead, he grabbed at his pack of Camels and lighter. Inwardly, Neil smirked, then hummed out, "And take a shower." Andrew's hand stopped, then he swung his legs over the roof and stood up. Got him, Neil tried to hid his smile as he watched Andrew throw open the roof door, then stood as well.     

 For a brief moment, he was fine, and then he felt his heart flutter upwards and watched Andrew turn to face him. His shoes, his goddamn shoes had no traction. "Andrew!" It slipped through Neil's lips without a second thought, and Andrew's face twitched into an emotion only Neil could recognize. Fear.   

  It all happened slow, painfully slow. Andrew shot across the roof to grab Neil's hands, which were frantically grasping at the edge of the roof, and then he froze. Andrew froze, his fear of heights no longer made him feel alive. Because Neil was falling, his Neil was falling. He was falling and Andrew couldn't get to him in time.  

 Neil thought he would see his life flash before his eyes. His dad, playing Exy as a child, his mom burning, that was what he expected. But all he got was Andrew.     

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.

Oh god, that was all he could see as he fell further and further away. Away from home. Andrew disappeared for a second, just long enough for him to flip so he would land on his legs. There was no Exy, there was no Kevin or Riko or anyone. He didn't have a future, all he had was Andrew, who was standing on top of the roof watching him plummet.    

 Neil said a mental goodbye, who knows if he would survive. After coming this far, after all the shit freshman year, he was going to die falling off a roof. Being an idiot, Wymack always said he was an idiot. And he knew, everyone on the team knew it, even Neil himself knew it.     

He closed his eyes, and thought of Andrew. The man he had let explore every part of him, the man he hated with every fiber of his being. Who knows how he was reacting, maybe it would be like Baltimore. Kevin better watch-   

 A dull thud sliced through the fall air. 

(UHHHH so I've never written a Andreil fic before. Srry if they're out of character, feel free to burn me at the stake for this. (obviously this is an AU, not cannon in the slightest) Have a good day :) I'm not sorry for the pain I have brought upon you)

PT 1 (You are here) 

PT 2

PT 3