#also i made them a bit tall. and maybe a bit too teenager-ish. but i still love her<3

[digoload]

They Are Judging You (and drinking juice)

[dat-town]

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least.  However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves  but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy.  He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known  from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your  own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

[gamerwoo]

[The Pack Next Door] Wooyoung: Sorry Not Sorry (Part One)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki​)

Characters: Wooyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, brother’s best friend au, not really fluffy but there’s no angst until the very end

Word count: 1,788

Summary: Everyone knows that werewolves can’t control who they imprint on, no matter what they think their preferences might be. But despite that, Jongho can’t help but absolutely loathe Wooyoung because the older boy went and imprinted on his older sister.

a/n: reader is obviously written to be older than jongho so if you dont like that bc it doesn’t apply to you, im sorry but oh well. also i don’t have any sort of update schedule so updates are gonna be way slower than they were for mingi’s lmao

Next | Sorry Not Sorry Masterlist

For a long time, Wooyoung was just your younger brother’s annoying friend. You were three years older than Jongho, so while you weren’t too far apart in age, you were just far enough that while growing up, you found your younger brother and his best friend absolutely annoying and obnoxious. And it seemed to be one of Wooyoung’s favorite activities was annoying you or pranking you with your brother.

Eventually, the three of you were grown-up enough that Jongho and Wooyoung didn’t bother you as often. You both were still in school -- you in high school while the pair was just starting middle since Wooyoung ended up staying back a year in grade school -- and while you did often see Wooyoung around your house during afternoons and weekends, his presence didn’t annoying you nearly as much as it used to. 

It wasn’t until Jongho was 15 and Wooyoung was 16 that you realized just how accustomed you’d gotten to having Wooyoung around, because you stopped seeing him. He was no longer on the couch with your brother, yelling at the video games they’d play on the TV after school. You no longer walked into the kitchen to see him rummaging through your fridge like he was in his own house. Wooyoung just...stopped coming around.

And Jongho was noticeably sadder, too.

“What happened to Jung Wooyoung?” you had asked him after about a week of no sign of your brother’s best friend.

Jongho sighed, looking more depressed than ever after hearing you mention his best friend since childhood, “He was sent away.”

“Sent away?” you repeated with furrowed brows. “Where? Why?”

“His parents said they sent him away to an all-boys school because he was acting out,” he explained.

Maybe Wooyoung acted differently at his own home than he did at your house, but you didn’t think the younger boy acted out at all. Maybe when he was a child, but he’d been fine the last 5-ish years. It didn’t make sense to you, but then again, you didn’t know Wooyoung very well.

However, you didn’t know it, but you were right. Wooyoung hadn’t been acting out at all. His parents wouldn’t tell anybody, but they’d actually kicked Wooyoung out of their home and sent him away to live with his uncle whom they’d disowned from their family because he was a werewolf.

And so was Wooyoung.

Wooyoung had gone missing for about three of those days that he wasn’t around your house. It was something most teenagers who first shifted would do, unsure what else to do after becoming a giant wolf. His parents had a feeling what had happened since his father had seen it happen with his brother. When Wooyoung had eventually returned, his parents confronted him about what happened, and the poor boy was immediately shunned and sent away. But when Jongho went to ask, they lied and said he went to a different school far away now.

Jongho was sure without any type of contact with his best friend, he’d never see Wooyoung again.

But you never thought much of him again. Jongho did eventually make new friends, and while he didn’t talk about him often anymore, he did think of Wooyoung every now and then, recalling the good times they had and wondering what he was doing with his new life. But you carried on with your life, eventually going off to college and only seeing Jongho when you went back home to visit. 

There was one instance where Jongho had come to you at your apartment, though. He was sweaty and out of breath, seeming panicked. His eyes were a scary crimson that had you gasping and stepping back from him, unsure why they looked like that. But he kept saying he didn’t know where to go or what to do.

That was when you found out Jongho was a werewolf. You weren’t sure what to do with that information, either, but you helped him go to your parents with the information. Your mother had said her great grandfather was one, but they weren’t sure if anyone else in their family would get what they expected to be the werewolf gene. But thankfully, they were accepting and went to your grandmother for some help and advice.

During his time in college, Jongho had found some new friends that he started living off campus with. They seemed to make him happy, and he spoke about them like they were family. He had confirmed they were his pack, and you were happy that he managed to find them. You thought it was sweet that your brother had new friends in college that he cared about and who seemed to care about him, as well.

“Oh, and hey, do you remember Jung Wooyoung?” Jongho asked while he was first gushing about his friends.

“That little twerp you were friends with since forever?” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Well, he's in it too! He lives with them!”

Your eyebrows raised in surprised, “Wow. It’s been years since you’ve seen him.”

“I know!”

“It’s like you two were meant to be brothers this whole time,” you told him with a laugh. “That’s kind of crazy. Fate’s really amazing, huh...”

“You should come visit sometime. I think you’ll really like the guys. Hongjoong’s really cool, and Yunho’s pretty goofy but he’s sweet. San’s kinda flirty but he’s really nice and stuff when you get to know him. I think you’ll get along well with Seonghwa and Yeosang, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you were always no fun growing up,” he teased.

But you did eventually go visit your brother. It had been a little while since you’d seen him anyway, so you figured why not. Besides, he seemed really excited about his pack and especially getting to reconnect with his childhood best friend. Honestly, you were a little bit curious to see how Wooyoung grew up.

What you didn’t expect when you arrived was to see Jung Wooyoung for the first time since you were in high school, and see him as so much more than just your little brother’s annoying friend.

Jung Wooyoung had grown up to be more handsome than you could’ve even imagined if you’d ever bothered to remember him. As soon as your eyes landed on him as he walked out the door to catch up with the pack while your brother excitedly greeted you from the driveway, you felt a massive crush on him hit you. And if this was what your grandmother had told you, Jongho, and your parents about, this was something more serious than just a human crush.

For Wooyoung, his entire world stopped. All he saw was you in his vision, everyone and everything else falling away. His heart was beating out of his chest, his palms suddenly felt clammy, and he had the strong urge to run right up to you and just wrap you up in his arms.

He had imprinted on his childhood best friend’s sister.

Thankfully, with Jongho’s excitement to introduce you to the pack, he hadn’t picked up on that. However, the same couldn’t be said for the pack. Seonghwa easily noticed, Hongjoong had a very strong suspicion, and Yeosang thought it was so painfully obvious that he couldn’t believe that Jongho didn’t realize when he had re-introduced the two of you and you finally had to properly acknowledge each other.

Yunho was the only one who didn’t notice, thinking that was just how Wooyoung was. He was very flirty with, well, just about anybody. So the older boy didn’t have reason to think anything of it.

But it was silently decided that nobody would tell Jongho about it. Neither you nor Wooyoung knew how to tell him. Jongho had become very protective of you ever since becoming a werewolf, so not only were you afraid of possibly upsetting him, but Wooyoung definitely was. Not only was Jongho his brother now, but they had been best friends since they could remember, and they had finally reuinted. He didn’t want to ruin their relationship, and neither did you. And since neither of you ever said anything, the rest of the pack knew it wasn’t their place.

Eventually, another werewolf came into the picture: Song Mingi. He was tall, a little awkward, but very sweet and funny. He had imprinted on his best friend, Aera, who he hadn’t told yet and insisted everyone associated with the pack never speak of it to her -- that included you. You weren’t at the pack house often -- Wooyoung would simply sneak out to visit you at your apartment because that was way easier -- but you were glad that Mingi’s situation overshadowed your own. The less attention on you and Wooyoung, the better.

Until Mingi ended up telling Aera, and then someone had to go and open their big, stupid mouth and ruin everything for you.

Jongho had invited you over for dinner to sort of ‘celebrate’ Mingi finally telling Aera after however many years that she was his mate. They, like Jongho and Wooyoung, had grown up together and were best friends throughout their whole lives. You were shocked Mingi managed to keep his secret for so long, but you were happy for him that he finally told her. Besides, Aera was always so laid back and relaxed. You figured she’d be fine with the whole situation.

“I still can’t believe you made a mistake that stupid,” you chuckled as the pack launched joke after joke toward Mingi’s lapse of thought which caused Aera to find out. “Even I know to be more careful than that.”

“Yeah, but you have family that’ve been telling you about werewolves since Jongho was in high school,” Mingi pouted. “My parents still don’t even know.”

“Guess they’re next on the list of people to tell,” Yeosang joked lightly, knowing Mingi was getting a little grumpy from all the teasing.

Yunho snorted before laughing, “Where are Wooyoung and _____ on that list?”

However, the joke that was meant to lighten the mood only made it worse. The air seemed to thicken almost immediately as everyone but the oblivious werewolf froze, eyes unsure if they wanted to look at you, Wooyoung, Jongho, or just continue staring at the table. It was so silent after Yunho’s laughter turned awkward and then quickly died down that even you could’ve heard a pin drop from outside. But after what felt like an eternity of just dead silence, something finally broke it that made you wish you’d continued to just sit in the quiet.

“What?” Jongho asked sharply.

From the end of the table, you heard Mingi mumble, “What was that about stupid mistakes?”

[bansept]

Let’s dance

/NSFW WORK/

While it’s not the absolute worse, nor the absolute best I could come up with, it’s a pretty nice start of the maybe long series of NSFW scrabbles for my dear Ichihime fandom!

To anyone who was a bit thirsty, I give you this fresh refreshment that I hope isn’t that bad!

DANCER ORIHIME X STUDENT ICHIGO

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Blurry windows and foggy mirror, heavy breaths and skin burning.

The light was shining on them, their sweaty bodies moving in rhythm with the music, the gentle voice of the instructor ordering them around, making each movement matter.

Now, if anyone had told Ichigo he would be taking dancing lessons, staring at his reflection in half anger, half concentration and listening to young teenage girls giggle behind him, he would have slapped them. Not because dancing was shameful, because frankly, it definitely was not. Well, except for some dances, like the macarena or shit like that. No actually, Ichigo would not have believed himself for agreeing to come to dancing lessons to stare at the instructor.

As in, gawk at her.

.

.

.

Ichigo Kurosaki’s week had started as normally as any other week : waking up early, drinking liters of coffee, going to work on some english literature thesis, eating with some friends and coming back home to work until way too late at night, and starting over again.

Yes, he had been told several times by everyone he knew that coffee was bad when it was too much, yes, he had been told to work better on his thesis if he wanted to study and teach Shakespeare. Easier said than done, and that was why his friends had kept rumbling about either taking a break, thank you Chad, or stoping any distractions and really work, fuck you Uryu.

He was sitting across them, stirring his lunch leftovers slowly while the tall half Japanese half Mexican giant was pushing his hair out of his eyes, looking around them as Uryu was probably talking to him. Ichigo tended to not care much.

“So you better get back on track before your old man decides to stop…”

“He’s not lending me money anymore. I work now, you know?”

Uryu threw Ichigo a quite unimpressed look, closing his mouth only to push his glasses up his straight nose. Chad was holding back a tiny smile, but Ichigo of course saw it.

“Giving lessons to kids and working part time in a dojo isn’t really enough to pay for important studies. Or keep you floating like now for the rest of your little life.”

Ichigo gritted his teeth together, a hand digging in his pocket to hold onto his phone, anything hard to stop him from throwing hands with his friend. He really wondered how or why he even talked with the blue-eyed man in front of him.

“Excuse me?” A voice came from the side, clear and ringing in his ear loud enough for Ichigo to turn his head around. Any distraction was good enough to momentarily wipe Uryu from his mind.

Ichigo felt his grip on his phone loosen, just like his jaw.

The angelic voice that had called them was probably the most angelic form of life on Earth, putting to shame anything renowned painters and, god forbid, even Shakespeare, had ever described. With long, fluffy and so exquisitely soft looking auburn hair, bright grey eyes surrounded by a round face, with subtile eyebrows, a cute little nose and, fuck, pillowy lips…

The young and oh so magnificent woman was slightly leaning towards them, an inviting smile on her face while her slender hand was handing over rosy flyers.

“I’m sorry to bother you, gentlemen, but we are offering free dancing lessons to promote the opening of our new dance studio.” A sweet smile and Ichigo felt his eyes widen further. “Would you be interested?”

With the push of his friends, and because he was perfectly unable to say no to such a goddess, Ichigo was the only one to accept, the other two finding some kind of weird excuse. But really, the young man was perfectly fine in agreeing to go alone there.

.

.

.

What a fantastic recruit they had chosen for the job, he marvelled, walking down the sunny streets with his backpack, staring at the flyer that the gorgeous woman had given him. He wondered if she would be here, in this class, jumping around in sportswear and doing whatever dance lessons did. Ichigo snickered when he realized he’d be one of the idiots doing those idiocities too.

After a good 15 minute-walk, the orange-haired man stood right at the front of a brand new building, the white walls making the golden-ish design of the sign shining in the sunlight. Windows with closed curtains made him raise an eyebrow, but he still entered the dimly lit building, the office desk standing elegantly, but alone.

“Hello?” He asked, voice calling out in the empty space.

God, he hoped he had not arrived too late. Or worse, too early. Ichigo hated to appear eager, even if his brain reminded him that, actually, he was.

A few quick steps rushed on the clean floor, the young woman appearing from the corner of a room, head out of a door, that certainly led to the dance floor. Damn, he hated that word, but like the way her face lit up seeing him.

“Oh! You came!”

Now, if his heart had jumped when Ichigo had first seen her, now something else did when she walked up to him in tight clothing, working out clothing, that hugged everything and didn’t leave much to the imagination. The man quickly got his backpack into his hands and placed it in front of his groin. Breathe in, you can do it.

“Well, huh, I told you I would come, right?” He chuckled airily, watching her smile again, her shoulders lifting up in happiness, her breasts bouncing NO DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.

“Thank you for coming, sir. You are right on time for the 3PM lesson. Others should come, but classes are mostly in the morning. Though I could make an exception for you!”

She brought her hands together in a small clap, and Ichigo did blush but desperately hoped it didn’t show.

It did, and the young woman pointed at the door in the back, with written in both English and Japanese “changing room”.

“You can go get changed, here is the key. Please be ready in 10 minutes.” she bowed to him slightly and walked back to the studio, slower than when she came in, and Ichigo felt his eyes trailing after her, impossible to stop himself or walk ahead as long as she was in here.

“I’m fucked.”

.

.

.

Yes, he was.

His young, overactive and definitely way too interested brain had created this mental image of dancing lessons, yoga sessions and massages to be a place of filth, where people turned into beasts and let nature rule them over as one of them was bended over a table while the other pounded in them. Instinctively, the clever and thinking part of said brain had stopped the idea, assuring him they were only fantasies young people in rut had twisted to fit their horny selves.

Unfortunately, part A of the brain had been right, and part B admitted defeat immediately when the session started with stretching methods.

With the instructor showing, naturally.

Going up, down, to one side then the other, running around the room wasn’t that bad. It actually helped get rid of the incoming boner Ichigo felt growing, and he stopped at the end to breathe out, now completely calm.

Apart from the moment she had come up to him to gently help him get the posture right, expertingly taking his hands to place them where needed, showing him how to do the exercise, her butt for him to see, and it was easy to think it was simply a coincidence.

One that brought his hard on back.

Then Orihime Inoue, the instructor, who had given him her name at the very start of the session so they would stop calling each other “Miss” or “Sir” as if they were still in school, came next to him and asked him to do some squats.

“I don’t see how that helps the dancing…” He doubted, looking at her in the eyes, and she chuckled lightly, raising her hand to pick up his arms and place them in the air, in front of him.

“Dancing is beautiful and powerful when you have good leg muscles. And while you do have muscles, if they themselves are not powerful enough, you won’t last very long.” She explained.

He sighed, argument hitting the spot, and did as many squats as her, next to him. If he was going to do some body work, then it would have been better to simply just go to the gym…

“Come on, don’t day dream! Do 50 and then we’ll see how you dance.”

The world stopped, all the clocks ticking in the empty void, head turning to stare at her incredulously, catching her puffing out her cheeks and laughing out loud, holding on to his shoulder to avoid slipping on the ground.

“I’m kidding, Ichigo-san! Don’t worry!” She kept laughing in her hand, and the young man felt several things : first, shame for letting his fear sweat outside of his body. Second, amusement at her dorky laughter.

The third emotion was out before he could control it, pulling her close to him and taking her hand off her face. Orihime looked shocked by his actions, ears and cheeks reddening from the effort as well as embarrassament.

“What…”

“That’s enough exercising for now. Let's get to the real work.”

He looked into her eyes, who had kept on looking up and down his body for the last half hour, her hands who ran up his arms to land on his collarbones, mouth opening slightly to let out nothing but a tiny “yes”.

He had been on fire for multiple reasons in life : because of anger against his father, his friends, sometimes his sisters. Because of grief, when he had to help other family members carry his mother’s coffin. Because of anxiety and weariness, because of exercise.

But this time, when he walked the two of them to a bench by the side of the room, he was burning in need and hunger.

Orihime was also fever like, the nice and calm mask she had slipped on falling away with her tank top, leaving her in just a sports bra while she kissed Ichigo deeply, tongue easily giving up the dominance in favor of the man’s own flexing muscles.

The sound of the music all but disappeared when their bodies collapsed together, hungry kisses and nails like tiger’s claws on each other’s skins.

With a quick breath, Ichigo pulled away from her mouth to kiss her neck, lapping at it gently, her hand going to his hair while he touched the skin of her hips and stomach. Softness and hard muscles seemed hard to combine, yet there she was, smooth smooth skin covering powerful muscles, ones that he would enjoy teasing.

After the kisses, his head got lower and lower, caging her lower stomach, not touching in the slightest her breasts, that would come later.

“Hmf, what are you... “

“Sh, don’t talk too loud, others might hear.”

He grinned from ear to ear, looking up as he licked his lips, her breath catching in her throat. Orihime’s hand suddenly caught his hair and pulled him up, as gently as possible, and they kissed again, one nibbling on the other’s lips, Orihime’s hands getting under the man’s wet shirt, feeling the tight muscles, the crease between each abs, the v line digging in his shorts.

“No one else is here… So, don’t hesitate to yelp, Ichigo.”

She murmured agaisn’t her lips before going deeper in her search, this time digging in his shorts to find what she seeked with a grin.

Ichigo yelped indeed, not expecting the woman under him to get so bold, yet there she was, feeling him up and stroking him in his damn shorts.

Fuck, would be the right word to use.

He didn’t utter a single vowel, bringing her pants and her underwear down rapidly, going back to kiss her as their lips found each other again, lost in moans and the electric touches of their tongues. Orihime kept on stroking him, gently pumping him up and down, the member in her hand turning even harder as she placed her thumb on the slit. Slick came out of it, and she chuckled at the man’s reaction : eyes closed and shaking behind the eyelids, Ichigo seemed ready to burst at any moment, but he groaned, not accepting an early end.

His finger, that had been on her lower stomach, stroking at her sensitive part, now had entered her, one by one. The long digits didn’t waste any time in looking for her gspot, that tender place inside of her that would make her see stars in seconds, if he was careful enough.

“Ichigo… No, not like, th-that…” She moaned against him, her free hand digging in his hair, pulling her face in his neck to try to resist the impossible pull on her body. “I… need….”

“I know, baby, I know… Let me take care of it…” He whispered back to her, placing one kiss on her forehead. His fingers came out of her, taking her own hand off of him, even if he twitched in insubordination. “You’re all good, Hime, you’re good…”

He reassured her, voice gentle like he knew she liked, hands lowering his pants to angle his cock to her. Ichigo finally freed her breasts from their confined space, letting them overflow on her chest, filling his vision with sights of her blushing face and exposed tits.

“You’re beautiful Hime…”

He smiled at her, rubbing her nose with his with a grin that she gave back, before entering her fully, nice and slow. She yelped this time, voice resonating in the empty room, but never stopping her sweet sound and words towards him as she dug her fingernails in his back, feeling him getting as deep as possible, filling her up to the brim, the end, to the heart.

She pushed her head out of his neck, and with a tiny frown, pouted.

“You didn't play.”

Ichigo winced, the tightness of hers squeezing just right around him, and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry… I tried, but you always look so fucking amazing in sports wear… fuck, I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know my own fiancée!”

Orihime didn’t answer, couldn’t really, and pulled him back down against her generous mounds before he got started with his thrusts, rocking them carefully against the oh so fragile wooden bench of his future wife’s dance studio.

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I’ll never forgive my playlist for making me turn what was supposed to be absolute filth into sweet love making on a bench.

Tell me what you thought of it, and how I can better myself!

[kangaracharacha]

Imogen and all the OC asks

What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about? ‘sparrow’, because she turned up with hawkeye and a sparrow is a little shitty hawk and tony stark thinks he’s funny

What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin? blue, blonde, white.

How tall is your OC? not very tall. very short. probably like 5′-ish.

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC? there’s a long, ugly scar on the inside of her collarbone. otherwise, the general bad attitude mixed with the height is. amusing.

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night? comfortable, practical clothing. dull colours, generic brands, doesn’t mind much what she looks like. for a special occasion, she’d dress down, but appropriate to the occasion.

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances? angry

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar? scar on her collarbone.

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like? I’m honestly struggling here. It’s just normal. Just a normal voice. Good at shouting. Very loud. Usually angry.

What does your OC’s bedroom look like?  His/her living area? kind of messy but like, organised chaos. she’s not really a chore-doer, yknow, she’s busy doing other stuff and she mostly lives alone so it doesn’t bother her or anyone else. it’s not really out of control or anything. apart from her clothes and stuff, she doesn’t really have her own space; in new york, she lives in clint’s apartment, an old, small space in an outdated building with second-hand furniture and a bunch of clint’s crap still sitting around, and if she has a place in sokovia it’s temporary housing and doubles as an office, so in the grand scheme of things she doesn’t really have a huge impact on the spaces she occupies while she’s there.

What does your OC keep in a special drawer? as sad as it is, nothing, she doesn’t really have a lot of possessions, definitely not special ones; the only things she brought with her from SHIELD were a bag of clothes, a knife, a gun, and a toothbrush, and since then she hasn’t quite settled enough to start collecting things - and living most of her life so far without a lot of stuff is just a hard habit to break.

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother? the evil scientist? she’s not a huge fan. kind of resents her like, a lot. imogen doesn’t remember anything about her except what other people have told her and the things she’s found out about herself, so she’s kind of just a stranger that set her up for a lifetime of frustrations.

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father? nevr knew him, has like one vague memory of him being kind of nice, but in the end he was evil so she’s not really searching for any way to keep his memory alive.

How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them? hah. she has one brother. having cut herself loose of that tie, she’s recently realised that that relationship was some kinda toxic and also he wasn’t afraid to kill her when ordered to so. you could say she’s not really interested in seeing him again either.

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life? she’s a bit over parental figures and a bit too old for that kind of bond at this point in her life, but she does have a couple of ‘mentors’, people that she can rely on to point her in the right direction. clint barton is one, of course, you always have to have a good friend who can knock you out and tell you ‘hey maybe being on team hydra isn’t like, the most morally sound decision you could make’. pepper potts is a professional rolemodel she’s found she can look up to. she lowkey thinks she could be like pepper someday but she’ll never admit that ‘CEO’ sounds like a good job to her.  and shoutout to Agent Donoghue, whose name i had to look up because he’s in sparrow for a whole five seconds but. she feels really bad about this one. Donoghue was her last chance at SHIELD, he gave her every chance to be successful in that line of work and he really was a good mentor, she just wasn’t ready to change when they knew each other. she looks back on a lot of the things he said these days and regrets not listening sooner, just like she regrets how it ended...but things had to happen the way they did for her to want to grow and become a better person.

What was your OC’s childhood like? crap, mostly. well, it was fine in a way, but. her parents died when she was five and she almost died too but that wiped most of the memory out of her head at least. she was adopted by a neighbour who was actually just a hydra agent on a longcon mission to keep an eye on her, more because she was possibly useful for information on her parents than out of any concern. this didn’t really lead to a loving household to grow up in, and her brother, who is five (or maybe seven?) years older than her didn’t spend much time around the place, and got himself admitted to the SHIELD academy as soon as he could. she didn’t really deal with this whole situation very well, so she grew up struggling in school, getting into fights, constantly grounded and yet impossible to control. eventually, her brother managed to get her an admission into the academy as well, where she found some structure at least but wasn’t particularly well liked and was typically bottom of the class, problem student, one step away from being thrown out.

What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her? she sort of remembers the murder of her parents, sort of, but it doesn’t really hit her the way she thinks it probably should? it’s just there in the back of her brain, blurry and disjointed and she’s not sure how much of it she’s made up and how much she’s actually remembering, and it doesn’t really impact her all that much although it probably did as a young child.  otherwise, the day that her brother, will, left for the academy. she has a whole lifetime of memories of people failing her, but that was the first time that he failed her, and though she didn’t realise it at the time, it was the final straw for her as a kid; she only closed off after that, gave up on people and on school and whatever else she was dreaming about. looking back now, she realises that she should have held on to that betrayal instead of eventually forgiving him, because that was her first red flag that he wasn’t as focused on her wellbeing as she thought he was.

What is your OC’s imagination like? not very good, she’s a very impulsive and in-the-moment kind of person, and a pragmatic and logical thinker who doesn’t leave much room for fanciful dreaming or thinking very far outside the box.

How many times did your OC move as a child?  Which area was his/her favorite? she spent most of her childhood in new york, shifting house a couple of times but otherwise in the same area, attending the same school, etc. they all sucked, honestly; her favourite place was her parent’s house. or it would be if she could remember it.

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them? she used to have no tolerance for kids but she’s warming up to them slowly, the further she gets from being a loudmouthed, hotheaded teenager. she would have kids one day, but not for a while yet, but more because she’s just too busy and not settled in one place at all than because she doesn’t like them.

What kind of mother/father would your OC be? she’d be dedicated to being a good mother, and to settling down and living a life that is right for her kids. she wouldn’t be the perfect parent, she knows nothing about parenting and has never had one of her own in her life, but she would try her best. she might even learn patience.

Who are your OC’s closest relatives? none of her relatives are close. she doesn’t know any of her distant family, most of them are dead anyway, and her brother is the worst person ever, so she’d just like them all to stay very far away, thankyou.

Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)? she has a couple of good friends in sokovia, katja and sofia and vinn (but they are all ocs and so you’ll have to send me another ask to know more about them). clint and the maximoffs are her closest friends in the avengers circle of people, and i guess ruby (radford, hacker extraordinaire and Legally Dead) also counts as a close friend, if grudgingly.

Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with? people that challenge her, and people that have earned her respect, which she doesn’t give away freely. she likes to be pushed, whether in her skills or her wit or just as a person, and she has an acute sense of when people don’t really like her company - which is fine, she knows she has a personality that is grating to some people, but she would prefer that they just didn’t come near her if that’s the case. 

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates? people that she feels are working against what she thinks is right. usually, this is groups of people - hydra, intel, certain rebel groups and militias in sokovia. otherwise, there are plenty of people that rub her the wrong way day to day, but she doesn’t really spend time actively hating them, she’ll just either get into a fight with them or avoid them as much as she can.

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it? (pietro, but don’t tell her)

Why does your OC and his/her soulmate work so well together? they’re both people that grew up lost and overlooked and angry at the world, and they were both manipulated by hydra and used and tossed aside by them, so they find common ground in that, even if it was on very different scales. they also tend to run in the same sort of circles as well - they find friends in the same people, their goals often align - but their personalities are different enough that they don’t just piss each other off. they share the same humour and the same brutal honesty and strong sense of right and wrong - they’re not afraid to call each other out, or argue, and they’re learning to apologise and forgive together. most importantly, they make the choice to be there for each other and to live new lives, and they stick to it. they both have an idea of who they want to be in the future, and both have the other in that vision.

What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate? she admires his commitment to his cause, how much he cares about his country and his friends and family and the responsibility he puts on himself to fix it. also, that he could put up with her for so long, without complaint; she’s always been used to people getting tired of her or taking off (or trying to kill her but we’re not going to talk about that), and she wasn’t really sure anyone could stand to be around her and still care about her for so long.

How did your OC and his/her soulmate meet? auntie stark playing matchmaker at a party because he was bored and he’s a meddler and they both annoy him in the same way.

What is your OC’s level of education? high school dropout and SHIELD academy dropout with no formal education, but she’s competent enough to get by in basic skills like maths and SHIELD related things like fighting and espionage.

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they? is detention considered an extracurricular activity

What is your OC’s opinion of school?  What kind of student was s/he? school was a very negative experience. she hated every minute of it. she was that really annoying, disruptive kid that would physically square up to anyone who even looked at her funny and regularly punched people and things, yknow? bad grades, bad attitude, no friends, given up on a long time ago.

What subjects did your OC excel at? sports weren’t terrible, as long as they weren’t team sports. once she got to the academy, hand to hand combat was her best subject, except that she was used to fighting dirty and already too set against the system to sit down and learn proper technique.

What subjects interested your OC? nothing at school really interested her; all of her interests have really come to her in her 20s, when she’s free to discover them on her own.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession? throughout the three fics about her, she’s a shield/hydra agent, a security officer at Stark Industries, and the director of the SRF camp in Nova Grad, Sokovia. she’s still figuring out where this is leading her, but the last two jobs have been perfect for her at that stage in her life.

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession? she’s been lucky enough to fall into each of her professions so far, which she is all too aware of and works hard to prove that she deserves it. her brother got her a place in SHIELD training, Clint helped organise the job at Stark Industries and called in a few favours so that she would get it, and she took over the SRF camp temporarily after an incident with the former director. she’s most proud of her work at the latter, and she’ll try to continue in that role until something else pulls her away.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession? she enjoyed working at SI well enough, the job was within her skill level, the people were okay, she was comfortable. she could have easily stayed there for a lot longer if other opportunities hadn’t presented themselves. she loves running the SRF camp, it’s just the right amount of challenging and a little bit dangerous but not too dangerous, and even if it’s a lot of paperwork there’s also something new and crazy happening every day to keep it fresh.

What is your OC’s biggest dream? to find a place to fit into and live a life where she’s making her own decisions, outside of the control of other people.

How does your OC react to and handle stress? she gets short and snappy with people, doesn’t have time for stupid or time wasting, can get pretty heated but doesn’t often get overwhelmed, she’s still got a handle on the situation.

How does your OC handle anger? loudly. she will physically fight people, if she’s riled up enough, but she’s trying to curb that habit.

How does your OC handle grief? processes inwardly, and puts on a brave face outwardly. very few people would see her express grief, and it would take a few weeks for it to really hit her like that.

What is your OC’s greatest fear? losing everything she’s worked hard to get in the last few years.

What makes your OC happy? uninterrupted downtime, when she can just do what she wants. it’s a simple life. oh, and people getting what they deserve. it’s satisfying.

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have? sarcastic, dry remarks, and finding humour in other people’s misfortune.

What are some things that greatly upset your OC? being disregarded as stupid or useless or annoying, situations in which she’s helpless or too far out of her depth to catch up

What are some things that annoy your OC? people that can’t keep up with her or say dumb shit, people in general, irritating noises 

If your OC has them, what are some regrets s/he has? she regrets not trying harder in school or the academy, she feels like those years were mostly wasted and wishes they hadn’t been even though she knows it’s not something to blame herself for. she regrets killing donoghue too; in the moment, it was all she could do, and what she had to do to survive, but it goes so against her morals that she’ll always feel guilty about it.

How easily does your OC forgive? not very. she’s been let down a lot in the past, and she’s cutthroat about removing people from her life when she thinks that they’re dragging her down. 

What are some of your OC’s vices? pride, wrath, anger, impatience, unkindness, spite

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it? the death of her parents. during flicker, she struggles with the knowledge that she has killed and seriously injured people before, and with knowing that she’s done these things while trying to learn how to live a normal life. in swift, sokovia offers her a very immediate and major seachange; she has to live through bombings, violent riots, shootings, etc. I think the most rattling out of these for her is having to play dead on a street filled with the dead, not knowing if her friends are alive or if she is going to live through this. up until swift, she doesn’t really see the worst that groups like hydra can do; she sees the blood and the death and the injustice of soldiers running blindly in to die, but this incident really hits home for her that she’s putting herself in the way of bad, terrifying people, and the things they are capable of are scary.

What secrets does your OC have? she used to be a hydra agent. she’s open about it if she has to be, if someone finds this information out themselves she’s very upfront and will tell them the whole story and let them make their own decision, but she’ll keep it secret until that time, she’ll never be the one they hear it from.

What are some of your OC’s morals? usually her choices come down to just basic human decency, sadly; she believes people should be free to make their own choices and to live their own lives, safe and in peace. in the scope of swift, she wants the people of sokovia to be able to retain their country under their own control, she doesn’t believe that the invaders and the rising militia should be involved, and that they should be free to choose their own government, but she doesn’t really think that riots and bombs are the way to go about it.

What are some of your OC’s motivations? her own drive to be better than she has been in the past, to make up for the time she’d spent with hydra (even if the things she’d actively done for them were minimal), to find her way in the world and the place she’s meant to occupy.

What is the health of your OC? it’s good. lots of scars, the regular kind of aches and pains from living a very active lifestyle. as of swift, she has restricted movement in her shoulder from a bullet wound - not enough to really bother her day-to-day, but she’s given up archery since recovering.

Does your OC think with his/her head or heart? with her head

What are your OC’s thoughts on death? she hasn’t really come to terms with death yet - it’s a scary concept, and she’s young. mostly, she just tries not to think about it at all, even when it’s staring her right in the face. she could probably find peace with it when it happens, if it’s for the right cause.

What are some of your OC’s strengths? she’s willful, determined, brave, she can speak her mind when she needs to and she’s not afraid to tell people what she thinks or to fight for a change. she’s open to change herself, and she’s willing to learn, where she wasn’t in the past.

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses? she’s quick to anger and slow to forgive, she often picks a fight that she should refrain from and can easily hurt the ones she loves. she’s closed off and that turns away many people and loses her many opportunities. she has a negative mindset and low self-worth; she makes life harder for herself often.

How does your OC take criticism? not well. she’ll get angry and start an argument or storm off, and take a few hours or days to process. it depends who is offering her criticism as to whether she’ll come crawling back to apologise or if her pride will be too much to allow her to do that.

What does your OC think of him/herself? she doesn’t think very highly of herself. she’s acutely aware of her faults - that she’s too angry and hardheaded, that she doesn’t listen enough and isn’t particularly talented at anything. 

If your OC could change one thing about him/herself, what would it be? some days, she would say that she would change her whole personality, take out the anger or whatever it is that makes it so hard for her to sit down and listen, or forget her whole past. other days, she wouldn’t want to change anything at all, even though she’s a whole mess. she really wants the latter to be her answer, but she’s still learning to be okay with herself.

What is the general impression your OC gives other people? standoffish, strong personality bordering on rude, takes no shit, short-tempered, unfriendly.

How emotionally/mentally vulnerable is your OC with other people? on a scale of zero to ten, i’d give her a solid one. she’s closed off, pragmatic, and thinks she has to do everything alone. close friends might get more out of her, and she’s learning to be softer and more open, and to work with other people, but for the most part she isn’t giving anything away.

How does your OC display love? sarcasm, mostly. she doesn’t outwardly express it, really, especially in public, but she’s always there as support or to listen or offer advice, if she can. and she’s always trying to do better and to commit herself to the relationship, even if she doesn’t make a big show of it.

What are some habits your OC has picked up? clint’s coffee addiction has rubbed off on her. 

What is your OC’s favorite drink? it’s quickly becoming coffee

What is your OC’s favorite food? doritos

What is your OC’s favorite sweet? chocolate

What is your OC’s favorite season? autumn

What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather? sunny, but not too sunny

What is your OC’s favorite book? she doesn’t really read

What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show? dog cops, she used to hate it but now she’s too invested to quit, shrek is her like, go-to movie when there’s nothing else which is weird and she’ll never admit it. but true.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of music (and song if there is one)? she listens to a whole bunch of different music, but her main genres would be pop, rock, rnb

What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment? TV/movies

What is your OC’s favorite color? blue

What is your OC’s favorite scent? salty sea air on a strong breeze. it’s just so crisp.

What is your OC’s favorite animal? she wasn’t a dog person until she met clint’s dogs. now she’s totally a dog person.

What is your OC’s favorite sound? s i l e n c e on a sunday morning.

What is your OC’s favorite time of day? morning, once she’s awake.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream? chocolate

What is your OC’s favorite dinosaur? pterodactyl

[snowmanmelting]

Stylish

Sophisticated and alluring.

Those were the first two words that immediately came to Anna’s head when she had to describe the blonde.

Tall, sophisticated, and so very alluring. It was magnetic, in a sense. Anna could be in a place full of people, doing a hundred different things and her eyes would still wander in Elsa’s direction from time to time, fully aware of her presence.

“Ok, but what is the real point of this jacket?” Elsa looked at her reflection on the mirror, strategically set of one of the store columns, her monochromatic blazer set aside for the moment. “The raincoat feature gets completely lost when this only reaches the waist.”

Anna, who just noticed she’d been staring for maybe more than necessary, only shrugged in response. She got behind Elsa, standing on her tiptoes to look like she was the taller one for once. Truth to be told, Anna was only half a head shorter than Elsa, but Elsa was the type of person that looked taller, somehow.

“It’s a matter of posture”, she’d say, but sometimes Anna just liked to tease with heights.

“Wait, lemme just--” Both of them watched her reflection gently tugging at the jacket from the shoulders, revealing Elsa’s spaghetti straps from her sky-blue tank top, and her collarbone that Anna swore sometimes looked like marble. Off shoulder, that was how the model in the promo pictures wore it. “There, that fits you better.”

Elsa’s reflection raised a very skeptical eyebrow. 

Anna rolled her eyes.

“It’s silly fashion! It doesn’t have to be practical. And, you know, it’s good to get out of the comfort zone every now and then!” 

“Is that why you’re wearing that ridiculous coat?”

“Exactly! Now I’m a pretentious old lady.” She stood to the side and struck a pose, raising her shoulders halfway up to her neck, between long faux fur and red and black stripes. “Now get me your strongest perfume at the cheapest price while I complain about the lazy youth,” she said in an exaggerated accent, pursing her lips.

Elsa held a hand to her mouth to her hide her laugh. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”  

“Not when she comes so often to the store, nu-uh.” Anna crossed her arms and closed her eyes with a childish pout. “Last time I ended up pretending I was busy not to assist that woman. I swear she enjoys pushing my buttons.”

"You're incorrigible sometimes." 

"You love me anyway," said Anna, with a shrug of her shoulders that seemed bigger than it was because of the oversized coat she was wearing. But it drove the point home, and they were just playing around. Elsa had always lent an ear and a sympathetic smile every time Anna complained about rude customers. And a sandwich. Those were important, too.

Playing or not, Elsa's eyes lingered on her for more than usual conversational timing, as if her barely concealed smile could also hide that little spark on icy blue eyes tracing all over her with unspoken affection. It made Anna's stomach flip on itself and burst into butterflies as if she was a teenager all over again. 

Elsa's smile turned into a full one, and she looked sideways with a little bit of embarrassment when she realized what she was doing.

"Touché."

+++++

This lil ficlet has been sitting halfway done in my drafts since march, after spending five consecutive days obsessively reading (unrelated) Elsanna fanfics and, shit-- I don't even ship them ship them, but they make a great duo and it never crossed my mind to think that there was gonna be such huge amount of fanfics lmao. So, I just had to write these two gays trying on jackets at Falabella with Loona playing in the background lol.

I wanted to make it at least 1k, but I’m outta ideas (I accept suggestions if you happen to have any!), and since my usual deal is Hurt/comfort, I just wanted to prove myself that I could write normal-ish fluffy-ish stuff.To me this is a nice change of peace! So woo /0/!

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

How it may have gone - Humble beginnings

If you're into Harry Potter maybe give this a read. Let me know what you think. It is a  marauders fic with tons of original characters.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are a bunch of things. But mainly they're teenagers. In their 6th year the political climate in the magical community gets colder and conflict is near inevitable. At hogwarts that leads to more animosity between some of the students. But it also bands some together.

Another prefect in the group doesn't seem like a good idea on paper, but it turns out that the soap opera aspects of high school as well as the downsides of wizardry are better faced with Friends. The more the merrier.

Masterlist

One: Skip the step

Six old-timey claw footed armchairs with purple upholstery. Two little side tables, dark wood, also claw footed with visible glass marks on the shiny tabletop. No windows. Thick velvet curtains to both sides of the door. Their colour was somewhere between magenta and burgundy. They should have clashed with the armchairs but didn’t. The floor was dark graphite or something like it. No rug.

Three gigantic bookshelves with glass cabinets to my left. One of them held the same book over and over and over again. I had checked. I had double checked. I actually was the very same book, same edition, same author, exact same title. First I had thought that it was the biggest encyclopaedia I’d ever seen. But it was just copies over copies of one book. “How to survive wizardkind” by Agathe Lieberschenk. Sounded German.

The door of the second cupboard was covered with inky black fabric, so I couldn’t see if it held the same book again. Though, I was pretty sure it didn’t. There wouldn’t be any need to keep people from prying if it was just the same book again.

the case closest to me buzzed quietly. In the middle a large contraption was stored. I had no idea what the thing was but it caused the buzzing. A large triangle  made out of what seemed to be white gold pipes spinning on its tip in mid-air over a silver tray engraved with runes that I couldn’t decipher. The buzzing got on my nerves. I was absolutely sure that it got several octaves higher since I first entered the small and stuffy room.

I forced my eyes away from the décor and found myself staring at the top of the doorframe again, although I knew that the clock which hung there was not showing the actual time but the centuries that had passed since the it was hung. Currently, the big hand sat at 8. Old clock. Old room. Old castle.

Frustrated that I had no idea how long I’d been sitting in my stupid purple chair I huffed audibly. Blue-ish grey eyes darted at me curiously. I didn’t need to check. I knew. They had done so every single time I had moved or even breathed loudly. They were nervous. 

The boy they belonged to sat across from he in his very own stupid purple chair. Feet tapping an uneven rhythm on the stone floor, fingers clawing into his knees. As I looked up to his face I expected his face to express his anxiety just as much as his body did. But it was calm, statuesque. Breathing was quiet en deep, eyes, still looking in mine, were expressionless and the skin was the usual pale, instead of the flustered red I had expected.

After a while the slightly narrow-set eyes looked to the top of the door. The brows furrowed in annoyance but quickly returned to their original position, helping the face try to convey calmness again. His fingers gripped his trousers even faster, though.

I didn’t like to admit it but the way in which Black was capable of controlling his expression was impressive. My emotions were always readable for anyone and everyone, his face was nearly always as made of stone. It must have driven him insane that is body betrayed his efforts of hiding his anxiety.

“God, how long can it take to tell them off!” I jumped a little at the exclamation and heard the tall boy next to me chuckle.

“Well, maybe he finally kicks them out of school and goes through the paperwork with them”, I couldn’t see the boy that voice belonged to, as he sat next to tall chuckler but he was clearly amused.

The tapping of the feet across from me got louder as the four other boys started fantasising about the conversation behind the closed door that held us in the stuffy purple buzzing chamber. As I wondered whether Black maybe tap-danced in his spare time a slightly bigger foot stepped on his. “Relax Reggie”, the boy belonging to the foot said softly. Black scoffed at his brother and kept tapping.  “Why are you so nervous, mate?”, Potter pushed his glasses back up his nose as he leaned forward to inspect the state the younger Black was in. Another scoff but no actual answer.

“Look at the goodie-two-shoes over there, they seem perfectly fine”, Potter continued vaguely gesturing toward Remus and me.

“I doubt she’s fine”, Remus chuckled again, looking down to me. I refused to take part in the conversation so I remained silent and stoic, inspecting the ornaments on the side tables for the eightieth time.

But Remus was right. I was not fine. I was fuming. Fuming because we would definitely be late for dinner and I was starving. Fuming because I was sitting next to that goddamn buzzing triangle that had just gone another octave higher and threatened to explode my drums. Fuming because I had let them get the better of me. Fuming because of what had been said. Yeah, mainly because of what had been said. But my feelings were none of their bloody business.

“She looks fine”, the voice behind Remus had leaned forward just like Potter, round face looking at me perfectly innocent. Now, it was my turn to doubt. I was no Regulus Black. I was annoyed and I bet that that was very visible.

“Meh”, Remus said turning towards me. “Pretty sure she’s never been here before and doesn’t like it.” I turned my attention to the curtains again, doing my best to ignore them.

“Does she talk?”, older Black chuckled.

“Yeah, she usually does. A lot even. Which is why I doubt she’s fine.” I could hear him grin. He had a way of looking like a hyena when he felt mischievous. Which was often. Prefect or not, he was just as involved in the pranks, schemes and fights as the other three Gryffindors.

“Proof it!”, Potter demanded, leaving me puzzled as to who needed to proof what.

“Proof what?”, Remus asked.

“That she talks.”

“She’s not a parrot, Prongs. And I’m most definitely not her keeper or her tamer. And I’d like it to be understood that I know that”, with those last words he turned completely to me. I knew that he was looking at me and I also knew that it was childish to pretend he didn’t exist or that I had not heard the conversation. So, I looked at him and gave him a quick nod.

My acknowledging Remus’ existence was interpreted as an invitation to talk to me directly by his friends. “ Come on De Witt, just say hello or something”, Potter whined. He pronounced my name wrong. Most people did. They all pronounced it Do-it. Not Deh-vitte. Very annoying.

“That’s not how you pronounce that”, younger Black said to not only my surprise. “It’s deh-vitte. German name.”

“Dutch”, I couldn’t help myself and instantly bit my tongue.

“Aha!”, Black the elder shouted pointing at me frantically as if he had just seen my spew fire.

“I told you she could talk”, Remus commented, grinning again.

“They already knew she could talk, Lupin, they’re trying to wind her up.” Younger Black seemed to have decided that just tap-dancing and clawing open wounds into his knees wasn’t enough to combat his uneasiness.

“How do you know how to pronounce her name”, Pettigrew asked confused, neglecting that they had long passed my surname.

“She’s in my year. Corrects the teachers all the time. You’d think they’d remember how to pronounce her name but they don’t.”

“Why would they?”, Potter pushed his glasses back again.

“She’s been here for nearly five years now and she’s rivalling Remus in classes. You’d think a teacher would know how she’s called, wouldn’t ya?”

Against my will I shot Black a surprised look. How on earth did he know about my marks? Then again, I knew about Remus’ and I only ever spoke to him if I had to.

“So, you’re a goodie-to-shoes and a know-it-all, huh?”, the older Black looked me up and down. I sighed and faced him.

“So it seems.” The triangle skipped an octave and practically screamed at me. Irritated I turned to the cupboard.

“It only does that for as long as you pay attention to the sound”, Pettigrew informed me. I looked at him blank-faced. “What?”

“That thing, if you ignore the buzzing, it will actually stop.”

I looked at him, then back at the annoying triangle and let out a “huh”.

“How do you know?”, I asked after a quick moment, forgetting that I was fuming and didn’t want to talk to those boys, because I was too curious about the infuriating contraption in the cupboard.

Older Black started pointing at me again dramatically and reminded me of toddlers at the zoo. Potter and Remus started laughing a bit and Pettigrew turned red. “Well, eh, uhm”, he began when Remus rescued him: “Not our first time, here. We figured that out” he pointed toward my bookshelf, “in second year. Maybe third.” I nodded. Of course they knew every little detail of Dumbledore’s waiting room. The practically lived in his office.

I was contemplating whether I should ask if they knew what was up with the endless copies of that one book, when the door opened and Professor McGonnagal came in. She did not look amused. Her eyes met mine, her head darted toward the door she had just come through and then she turned around again.

As I got up Potter shouted after her: “Oh, come on Minnie, we’ll miss dinner if she’ll take just as long!”

McGonnagal turned back around. “Well, Mr Potter, so will I. But do you hear me whine?”, she shot him a cold look, then graced every single one of the boys with it, while I stood stupidly waiting for instructions. I felt awkward. The professors look lingered on Remus, then she waved him to also follow her.

We walked behind her, crossing the small corridor from the waiting room to the big oak French door to Dumbledore’s office.

We were guided toward two new old-timey claw footed armchairs with purple upholstery and sat down. No sign of the six Slytherins who had been called in before us. I looked at my headmaster on the other side of the heavy antique desk and waited.

He took his time saying something. Looking at Remus first, then me, then back to Remus, ever so slightly shaking his head. In disappointment?

“I would have expected much more from two prefects than to end that situation by hexing classmates. If there is anybody who knows this is against the rules, it is the pair of you.” I wanted to correct him but he lifted his hand effectively shutting me up.

“Both of you are very skilled when it comes to communication and you have been chosen to be the prefects for your respective houses because you can keep a level head and remain objective in situations such as the one that landed you here. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

I waited about one heartbeat to give Remus a chance to defend himself. When he didn’t I addressed the bearded man with the silly hat myself: “Remus shouldn’t be here. Professor Dumbledore. He didn’t hex anybody. If you want to scold someone for not being a proper prefect, it should be me. Remus has not broken any rules and if you let him leave now, he might still have full choice at dinner.” I looked at the headmaster in anticipation. He turned is his halfmoon glasses toward Remus and raised both eyebrows.

“Well, Sir, she isn’t wrong. But I don’t think she’s right either.” Dumbledore’s eyebrows jumped up even higher on his forehead.

“I might not have hexed anybody myself, but I also didn’t keep anybody from doing so. And if I’m honest I would have if Jette hadn’t disarmed me.” He paused for a second, glancing at me, then continuing:” And while we’re defending each other: Jette didn’t hex her classmates, she disarmed them – in pretty badass move by the way –“, he notched me in the side and I couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. “And she only disarmed them – us – because we were about to hex each other. And it also wasn’t her first attempt of keeping us from doing it.”

“It wasn’t?”, Dumbledore interrupted, redirecting his attention to me. “No, Sir, it wasn’t. When I stumbled across them, wand at the ready to curse each other I first conjured protection. But as soon as I let that go, they were at it again. So, in order to prevent any actual harm, I disarmed them.”

“In a pretty badass move!”, Remus said again.

“Why are you so hung up on that?”, I asked, momentarily forgetting that I was here to try and not get punished, rather than discussing Lupins enthusiasm over my Defence-against-the-dark-Arts-techniques.

“’cause it was a clean sweep in one move. Very elegant. Never seen anybody do that.”

“Why thanks, Remus.” I was honestly flattered.

“What you are telling me is that Mr Lupin did only make himself guilty of wishing to hex somebody and that Miss De Witt’s only crime was to prevent any hexing?” We stupidly looked at each other, then nodded in unison. That was pretty much what happened.

I thought that he was satisfied with that answer and would maybe let us of the hook and into the Great Hall with a warning but he wasn’t done with us yet.

“Do either of you know why there were a total of twelve students trying to assault each other in the transfiguration corridor?”

If I were to answer that question my still searing anger would get the better of me, so I hoped Remus would just say no.

“I don’t know who started it Sir, we rounded the corner when Jette yelled at them to stop. As soon as Sirius realised that Mulciber and his friends were hexing Regulus he got in on it. And so did the rest of us.”

“Not you, though?”

“Well, technically only Black got to actually cast a spell, Sir”, I interrupted. “The rest of them were going to but couldn’t because of the Protego. Including Remus.”

“You were there before Mr Lupin, I understand?”

The old man’s eyes were far too bright, lively and inquisitive for someone his age, and they looked directly into mine.

“Yes, Sir. A bit.”

“Do you know how the rowl started?” Yes, yes, I did. But I didn’t know whether I could tell him while keeping a level head and staying objective. Those damn elitist Slytherins!

“They had words, Professor.”

“Who did?”

“Mulciber and Black, Sir.”

“They had words?”

“They argued.”

“About what?” His eyes bore in mine as if he already knew what they had fought about and he just wanted me to tell him.

“Ehm…” I started trying to win time to calm down a bit and find the right words. I realised I wiggled my lips from left to right as I was thinking.

“About the company Black was keeping during lunch”, I finally said, forcing myself to sound calm. Remus’ head twitched towards me.

“He had lunch with us.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shut up.

“Why would Mr Mulciber be interested in or upset about who Mr Black spends his lunch with?” Dumbledore’s eyes wouldn’t let me go.

“I… think that’s a question for him, Sir.”

“You heard the argument, didn’t you, Miss De Witt?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t know what Mulciber is thinking…”

“Would you recount the argument for me?” No. No, I really wouldn’t. I’m not one to use those terms!

“I’d rather not, Sir. It was…unpleasant.” Remus sighed next to me in understanding. But Dumbledore wouldn’t let me off the hook.

“Humour me, Miss De Witt. Please.”

My teeth clenched I breathed in and out a couple of times, begging myself to not fly into pure rage.

“Mulciber – and his friends – are apparently … proud of… their heritage.” I managed to say slowly through my teeth. I hoped the headmaster would just take the hint. He had whatever Mulciber told him – I assumed he would have no problem repeating the insults he had used – and he could also ask Black the younger about the argument. It was his after all.

“You meant to say they are proud to be pureblood wizards?”, the old man’s eyes softened. A bit.

“Yes, Sir. That.”

“What does that have to do with Mr Black’s lunch?”, he asked very innocently and as if he had no idea, although Remus had already said that Black the younger had sat with him and his friends. Couldn’t the grandmaster of the Wizarding gamot just use his abnormally large brain to figure that out?

“With all due respect, Sir, I think you know”, I answered vaguely.

“Please, Miss De Witt, just give me your account of events.” I groaned involuntarily.

“Really, Sir, I’m just gonna get angry.”

“Feel free to”, he smiled at me in encouragement. I quickly glanced at Remus and he shrugged.

Again I took a moment to collect myself before I started talking. 

“Well. Mulciber and his goons had seen that Black had been lunching with his brother and Remus, Pettigrew, Potter and Evans at the Gryffindor table”, I started feeling heat rising all over my body as I remembered the scene in the transfiguration corridor right after lunch.

“They weren’t happy about that because of their being proud pure bloods”, I spat the word like it was poisonous. “In their mind a fine pure blood Slytherin boy like Black should never, under any circumstance, fraternise with people who aren’t purebloods – or Merlin forbid those people who defend halfbloods and muggleborns.” I got really worked up now.

“So, when they met Black in the corridor they yelled at him that he was a disgrace to Slytherin House and his family, just like...”, I interrupted myself and glanced at Remus again. He looked at me scarred face all serious and nodded slightly.

“Just like his blood traitor brother.” Now that I said it, there was no going back and I knew I was going to yell in just a couple of seconds letting out all my frustration and fury.

“His blood traitor brother who does not only eat lunch with the filthy halfbreeds and unworthy muggleborns but who has the audacity to be friends with them and publically defend them and their rights.

Mulciber called Black – the younger Black – a bloodtraitor himself threw around some great insults for Remus and Pettigrew and then – in front of the whole goddamn year!!! – he shouted that Black should stop hanging out with a – and I quote – filthy mudblood like Evans who should be hunted like the vermin she is.

Then Mulciber pulled his wand and gave Black the Lion tattoo in his neck. Only then did Black take up his own wand and tried to protect himself. That lot”, I gestured at Remus, nearly poking his eye out, “had come ‘round the corner just before the hex and probably heard the last few sentences Mulciber had said. Naturally, other Black and Potter were up in arms immediately and that’s when I cast the Protego. Mind you for all of them. Including Mulciber and his racist friends, Professor. I cast a Protego for them. And don’t think that any of that stopped them from yelling and insulting and throwing words around that I have learned to never use however angry I am.

And what happens after I disarm the lot of them? We all get dragged to your office. We all get the same speech from McGonnagal. And we”, again I gestured at Remus, who had to duck away as I had risen from my chair standing up in all my anger. “get to wait for hours and miss dinner, while that elitist, racist snob gets to have some pudding. Tell you what, Professor Dumbledore if I had known that acting my age and remaining reasonable would have landed me here in the exact same spot as that piece of shit I would have never even bothered to protect them. I would have loved to help Black jinx Them into the next century and back!

How dare you punish Black when he only acted against a useless and unwarranted prejudice by standing up for his brother and his friends in public. Him having to go back to his dorm and common room should be punishment enough. They’ll rip him to shreds and you don’t even let him have a last dinner before that? He’s done the right goddamn thing!

How dare you punish Remus, Potter and Black when they only helped the clear underdog and stood up for not only themselves but also every single student in this school who happens to not be a Sacred 28? With the current political climate you should award every single student who speaks for mixed heritage a medal or 500 housepoints, not make them go crazy in that maddening buzzing room!

You should’ve thanked them for speaking some sense, for showing that those elitists aren’t scary, that you can easily get the better of them. That it’s your right to defend yourself when somebody calls you unworthy of even existing! But would do you do? You haul them in here to punish them. How’s that fair, huh? How’s that fair?

And don’t get me started on the fact that I fought the urge of just bashing Mulciber’s head into the wall and instead made sure that nobody got harmed! Not that bottomfeeder of a Slytherin, not his very justified attackers, not the innocent bystanders, of which there were a lot in that corridor. No one harmed.

You should just thank us all and let us go for trying to fight discrimination. Because that’s a noble thing to do. And you should thank Black twice because I honestly think that he mostly agrees with Mulciber’s twisted opinions but still stuck up for his brother and the lot.

And while we’re at it: I think you should also expel that wanker Mulciber for openly attacking others, physically and verbally, with terms that are as unforgivable as the curses!”

I huffed and puffed and figured I had nothing more to say. So, I stood, breathing heavily for a while, then sat back down. I quickly looked at Remus to figure out how he saw my chances of staying at the school after that outburst, but had to find that he looked at me like I had just introduced him to the horsemen of the apocalypse and announced the end of the world. No help there.

A little weary I turned back to Dumbledore, whose mouth was somewhat stuck between a smile and a smirk. He took a deep breath, keeping his freakishly youthful eyes on me, then he spoke: ”Thank you for coming in and clearing the whole thing up. Seeing that the pair of you are prefects and supposed to make sure that he rules of this school are followed, you’ll understand that you have to be disciplined for breaking them. Please report to Madam Pince every day after your last class for the next week to serve detention.” He was calm, not the least bit shaken, confused, angered or shocked by my fit of rage and pointed to the door. “That’s all”.

Confused out of my mind I slowly got up again and followed Remus out of the office. As we opened the door we nearly collided with Professor McGonnagal who stood right behind it, back to us, gesturing vividly as if she was guarding a hoard of three year olds. As the door closed I heard different voices shouting and finally McGonnagal stepped away.

“That was bloody brilliant!”, Pettigrew stared at me as if I was some kind of apparition. Potter slammed his hand against my back several times, while the older Black wiped away a non-existing tear from his eye. Younger Black just smiled at me a little crooked and mouthed a thank you. Before I even got a chance to process the last couple of minutes, let alone react to my newly founded fan club Dumbledore appeared in the door to his office and ushered the four boys in. Remus and I remained in the hall.

“You’re free to go”, McGonnagal informed us with her usual stone cold, strict face but her voice sounded a lot warmer than usual.

I didn’t waste one second and basically ran down the stairs to get away from that whole mess of a situation and to my well-deserved dinner.

I did not get very far. I had just left the griffin gargoyle behind me and turned left to get back down to the ground floor and the Great Hall when I heard some sniffles. Then sobbing. Oh, great! I really wanted to ignore the sounds of despair and just leave whoever it was to fix their own misery but I knew that that wasn’t me and that I didn’t lose my prefect badge in the headmaster’s office, so it was basically my job to investigate the crying.

♠♠♠

For the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time that day I took some stabilising and calming breaths, then walked backwards to the little alcove I had just passed. Bingo!

There she sat, no older than 12 dressed in black robes with blue and bronze accessories balling her eyes out. I took in my surroundings again before I approached her. This was upper-classmen territory. I had only just started coming here myself, so surely the little Ravenclaw was really lost.

I kept my distance, standing just before the alcove’s entrance and crouched down. “Hey, you alright there?” Despite my efforts not to seem threatening and the use of my I-can-help-you-find-your-mummy-face and voice I startled her. She hick-upped as she lifted her head and stared at me with the biggest and wettest eyes.

“You seem a little out of place”, I tried again sitting down putting my arms around my knees with a smile.

She sniffled. Her eyes fluttered to my face, then my yellow badge with the cursive “Prefect” on it and back to my face. “Uhm…” She started. “I… am…lost?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Huh”, I answered. “How’d you get here?”

“Stupid stairs”, she said more to herself than me.

“Oh, yeah those will mess up your day”, I chuckled. “And they will forever. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been here and how well you think you know your way around the castle, those stairs will have you wandering around for hours without the foggiest idea whether you’re even still in Scotland. Happened to me just last week.” It hadn’t. I hadn’t gotten lost in this school since my third week of first year, but I figured she could use the reassurance. And I was right. She gave me a shy smile.

“It did?”

“Sure thing”, I lied getting up and reaching out my hand to help her do the same. She only hesitated a short moment before taking my hand and standing up.

“So, where were you headed?”

“Dinn…”

“Oi, de Witt!”, she was interrupted by the voice of Remus Lupin and some heavy footsteps. Pained expression on my face I turned to see that he and his posse ran toward me and my insecure second year.

I considered ignoring them and just taking the girl to the Great Hall but they already were too close for me to pretend that I didn’t hear them.

“Yeeeeeees?”, I stretched out the word as much as I could to stress my unwillingness to talk to them. Remus came to an abrupt stop just  few feet away from me catching his breath. He opened his mouth to say something, realised I wasn’t alone, closed it again and started anew: “New friend?”

“Uhm… we just met actually. And we were going to dinner”, I responded. “If that’s still happening that is…” While Remus tried again to say what he originally intended, Potter crouched down in front of the girl and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m James. Did the stairs get you?”

The second year carefully shook his hand. “Jill. And yes.” Jill didn’t look up at him she stared at her feet, clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh well, don’t sweat that!”, laughed Black the elder. “Happens all the time to everybody.” Liar.

“Why don’t you just jump on and let Peter here explain to you how you best avoid those tossers’ tricks?”, Potter suggested while turned around, still crouched, to let her climb on his back. She looked up at me as to get my permission and because I didn’t really know what was going on I just shrugged and she smiled.

Potter stood back up looking very happy with himself and introduced Jill to Pettigrew. Pettigrew threw himself in a story of how he was trapped in the prank step for hours in his third year and gave Jill a long list of helpful and not so helpful tips. I followed the trio with both Blacks and Remus.

“Her entire year will be jealous of that piggy back ride”, chuckled Remus knowing very well how popular Potter was with the girls.

“Not just her year”, I corrected knowing very well how popular Potter was with the girls.

“If you give her a high-five in the Great Hall she will be a legend at least for the rest of the year”, I said to Black the elder and earned a surprised but satisfied grin.

The whole Jill-thing had calmed me down quite a bit I realised and I didn’t mind the boys’ company.

“I had no idea you could blow up like that”, younger Black said, smirking at the sight of Jill laughing and squealing in joy as James went into Rodeo-mode.

“Well, I usually don’t in front of headmasters… or people I don’t know that well.”

“Thanks, anyways.”, I looked at younger Black crunching up my face.

“For defending me. Us, really. You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I had to! And meant every word. Mulciber, I swear to god…”, I cut myself of because I was getting angry again.

“There were quite some compliments in there, Jette”, Remus broke his silence and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he finally said what he wanted to say when called out for me a couple minutes earlier.

“So?” What’s wrong with that?

“I didn’t know you thought so highly of us”, he grinned that mischievous grin of his.

“Highly?”

“If I recall correctly you called us noble”, Black the elder answered for Remus with that crooked halfsmile that had become his signature thing.

“I think I called your actions noble. Your actions in that very specific situation. Let’s not get too carried away”, I corrected but laughed at the same time. Black rolled his eyes.

“So you’re on library duty with him”, younger Black asked with a side look to Remus.

“Yes, a week’s worth of detention with the ever so chatty Madam Pince.” I sighed. She and I didn’t really get along. Not that I visited the library more than absolutely necessary anyways.

“What about you?” While I asked that question I realised that I was having a pretty civil conversation with two of the school’s most well-known troublemakers and younger Black who had silently agreed with me to just ignore each other’s existence for most of our school career.

“Reporting to Hagrid for a week every night”, younger Black said non-chalantly. “That can’t be too bad, right? I always wanted a good reason to go into the forest.”

“For someone who shit his pants in fear of punishment just about an hour ago you speak with a lot of confidence, Reggie”, his brother teased and earned a fist to the shoulder.

We caught up with Pettigrew, Potter and Jill just in time to hear Pettigrew hammer home the point that one should always skip the trick step. He had Jill repeat it several times and nodded heavily. I giggled. Pettigrew then mentioned some actually interesting bits of information about how she should always look out the window if the stairs messed with her to figure out on which floor and in which wing she was, before reminding her that it was most important to skip the step. This time I giggled in unison with Jill who seemed to thoroughly enjoy her evening now.

As we rounded the last corner to the foyer Pettigrew had Jill repeat the Top Five Tips he had given her starting with five. As she got to one Pettigrew dramatically winked at her and said it with her:” Always skip the step!” Jill broke into laughter at the doors of the Great Hall, which Pettigrew threw open dramatically to let Potter gallop in there, Black the elder right beside him. When all eyes were on them Potter let Jill dismount, smiled at her widely and wished her a great evening. Black the elder raised his hand for a high five and told her – louder than necessary – to just ask them for help if ever she needed it. I simultaneously rolled my eyes at their exaggeration and smiled at their effort to make her feel better once and for all.

She had just turned to go to the Ravenclaw table when Peter yelled after her: “Skip the step!” which had her smile from ear to ear.

Black the younger scoffed a little, lifted a hand as greeting farewell and was already on his way to the Slytherin table when his brother shouted: “Hey Reggie, don’t forget to…

“Skip the step, I know”, Black interrupted in turning half around grinning and waving dismissively.

“Well that was…an unexpected turn of events.” I said as I walked to the two left tables with the boys. Halfway down my table I stopped having found my friends and I was going to just sit down and breathe in my dinner but I couldn’t help it.

“Oi. Pettigrew”, he looked at me surprised. “Remember to skip the step, yeah?” I giggled at his expression somewhere between extreme confusion and extreme delight, as Black the elder laughed a barky laugh, Remus gave me a double thumbs-up and Potter ruffled through Pettigrews hair.

I sat down fully between Chloe and Milla who looked me up and down as if I was ill, just like Crick on the other side of the table. I considered telling them the entire story, but looking at the scarce rests of the dinner buffet, I decided to first eat. I deserved some pork chops

[strawberry-mingyu]

Thank Johnny...

Synopsis: When Johnny said Jaehyun would be there you didn’t know what to expect (but of course you had to go ;) ), but you definitely didn’t expect to meet him like this. (Flirty-ish, Fluff-ish,Life-ish I guess 😂 Got inspired by Jaehyun dancing to Please Me in this video ⬇️ )

“Johnny... you know I don’t really...-“ You trailed before Johnny Suh, your friend of almost a year now at university, cut you off.

“You can invite all your foreign exchange friends! It can be a cultural club experience for you all!” Johnny joked. You could literally hear the smirk on his face.

“Ha. Ha. You are a comedian...” You laughed fake at first, but then it became genuine thinking about how stupid Johnny was.

“Also, my friend, Jaehyun’s gonna be there! Maybe he can go back to your place for ramen, and I can finally have the apartment to myself for a night ;)”Johnny said teasingly.

“Ugh! Johnny, when I see you later, please get prepared for these fists!” You said rolling your eyes with a blush creeping up to your face.

You never got to the chance meet Johnny’s friend, Jaehyun, due to him being in a different department. You also never meet him because(, and you would NEVER tell Johnny this,) you were honestly a bit shy to meet him. Johnny had showed you his Insta, and ooooh that man was fine. Therefore, up until this point you slyly dodged the opportunities. However, tonight you had a spurt of courage. You don’t got nothing better to do. You should reward yourself for dealing with Johnny’s childishness. Why not with some eye candy ;). Fuck it!

Guess you going to the club tonight.

-

“Oof you missed him, [Y/N]! God he’s so handsome. Is he one of Johnny’s friends? Johnny’s so handsome...he’s got to be Johnny’s friend!” Your friends threw words at you all at once.

“All y’all are confusing me. Missed who?” You asked curiously with a laugh at how they were acting. You did want some eye candy.

“There was this guy. Had on a dangerously blue shirt, the sexiest smile like...shit...girl...I don’t bout that one mhm,” Your friend Yasmin said wiggling her eyebrows.

“And that shiny brown hair and those dimples!” Your other friend, Anna, gushed.

“He had aura around him! I swear!” Amy, your other other friend, added.

“Wait...nice smile...dimples...brown hair...aura...Jaehyun?” You thought reminiscing the pictures Johnny had shown you.

“Nahhh. That could be anybody,” You counter-thought.

-

You still didn’t see the guy they were talking about.... until you did. After whipping around to find him there he stood in front of you. The shiny brown hair, the dimples, that aura was all right in front of you, and it was, in fact, Jaehyun. The only thing different from their description was the alcohol stains on his ‘dangerously blue’ shirt.

“Oh god! I am so sorry! I was looking for...someone, and I wasn’t paying attention.” You said embarrassed.

“Oh no. It’s alright. I should have been paying attention, too.” He said with the most charming and honestly kinda cute voice as he held his now almost empty cup.

“Give me a second,” You said hurriedly making your way to the bar in desperate search of something to clean up the very literal mess you had made.

“Here. Gosh, I am really sorry, Jaehyun.” You sighed after you handed him the much needed napkins with a disappointed face.

“Do you know me?” He asked with a confused lift of his eyebrow as he dried his blue button-up (which looked very good on him by the way...like even with the stains).

“Oh, not really, but my friend Johnny came with you. He talks about you sometimes, and showed me some pictures of y’all. I just recognized you.,” You said with a coy smile. “So you do know who he is!” Your friends said surprised followed by them whispering how lucky you were. “Huh?” He said confused. “Uhh...-“You started before a hyper Johnny gave you somewhat of an escape.

“Hey, I see you guys- Dude what happened to you?” Johnny exclaimed loudly to Jaehyun as he felt his tarnished shirt after putting his arm around the man’s shoulder. Damn. Your friends really all HAVE to embarrass you.

“Nothing much... we kinda bumped into each other,” Jaehyun laughed awkwardly. You were quite literally burning up from embarrassment as your cheeks gained a pink hue.

“Oof! [Y/N] I didn’t think my little buddy ever got drunk, but you’re just out here bumping into people. Your cheeks are even pink!” Johnny pointed out; his amusement increased by the supposed “apple juice” (as he will later claim it was) in his veins.

“You’re [Y/N]! Johnny’s friend from the language department!” He said with the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. You swear this guy was legit emitting a glow around him. Shit...maybe you were drunk.

“Yeah...I am. Sorry you had to meet me like this. Also, I didn’t drink Johnny... I am just embarrassed,” You said giggling embarrassedly into tiny whispers.

“It’s okay! You can stop apologizing, silly. I am glad to meet you! Johnny also talks about you. A lot.” Jaehyun says with a playful smirk.

Your friend, Yasmin, pokes you and gives you that face. You know that face yo friends make like “OooOo. Girl, you getting you a man today. Ding Dong...You full package is delivered. ;)” You embarrassedly gave her a small swat.

“Ah that’s really something. Hopefully, he’s only said good things,” You replied trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course, he always talks about your cute accent, how you make him laugh with your clumsiness..., and also about how pretty you are... I guess all of those have been confirmed,” He said cooly. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, and the fact that Please Me was blasting through the speakers of the club as he danced a little ¡DID NOT! help! Before you could respond Johnny felt the need to pipe back up.

“I never called your accent cute by the way. I called it funny,” He said snickering while lazily leaning onto Jaehyun’s shoulder looking like a giant child.

“I am trying my best, Johnny, and also...he’s kinda drunk did you drive him here?” You questioned Jaehyun; less embarrassed and now more amused at Johnny’s behavior.

“Kinda drunk? He’s going to sleep like a baby tonight..., and then be hella sick in the morning. But we just walked here, so I will just carry him back.” He said rushing the end of his sentence as he caught the tall Elephant (Haechan lol) of a man as he almost fell over.

“Are you sure? I drove here... I mean I could drive y’all back to y’all’s apartment... Only if y’all...Well I guess just you since you’re the only mentally present one... are okay with it.” You said concerned.

“If it’s not a huge hassle, because honestly right now I don’t know if he can make it.” Jaehyun said laughing nervously.

“I can make it!” Johnny suddenly challenged tripping over to you just to lay his head on top of yours.

“Yeah...I will take you guys.” You said as you tried to lift the big idiot off of you while Jaehyun chuckled and helped you.

(That’s Jaehyun @ Johnny ⬇️)

You told your friends what you were doing (cuz safety first children! keep ya squad in the know), and waved goodbye to them. They kept giving you the “OooOo...;)” look but you just playfully rolled your eyes. However, you couldn’t help the light blush that remained on your cheeks

-

You and Jaehyun helped Johnny out to your car, and laid him like a content baby across your backseat. As you took your seat, and Jaehyun sat shotgun, you felt oddly nervous. You know just having this handsome guy you just met today in your passenger seat. No biggie.

“You okay?” Jaehyun asked as he realized you had been paused for a moment.

“Yeah!” You said a bit too quickly starting the car, and beating yourself up (like in your head... not actually like... you get it) for acting like such a teenage girl.

-

The car ride was rather pleasant... well except for Johnny’s occasional drunken interjections. Jaehyun asked you about being a foreign exchange student, and you told him how you accidentally met Johnny by accidentally tripping over his foot on the first day of class. Overall, a good wholesome time. The trip couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes, but it felt like forever. In a good way.

“Well we’re here, Johnny... and he’s completely asleep,” You said giggling. Jaehyun looked over at you and then Johnny and just laughed. And darn was his laugh the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard.

“I hope you can get him in there easy, and hopefully he’s not too messed up in the morning,” You said laughing at the poor man.

“He’ll be fine! It’s my duty to his good friend to take care of him,” he said looking up from his phone to wink. at you. Woah. Woah. Woah. This guy just...winked...like...at you.

Your brain: *computer voice* Shutting off. Goodbye. 👋😄

“Haha...yeah. Tell me when he’s all good. I am gonna have to tease him, and hopefully he’ll forget what I did to you and won’t tease me,” You giggled flustered.

“I can’t tell you... unless I have your phone number, or if you stop by tomorrow,” Jaehyun said nonchalantly looking at his phone.

You chocked on thin air because wowww you didn’t expect that.

“You okay?” He asks laughing with that beautiful playful smile.

“Yeah! Just ya know the seasons! Darn allergies. (Yeahh handsome guy allergies ;) ) I will give you my number, and I can tell you when I am coming over tomorrow,” You said trying to regain your confidence.

“Sounds good. I guess I am glad you ruined my favorite shirt...” He smirked.

“It was your favorite!?” You exclaimed with puppy eyes.

“No! I am just kidding, [Y/N]!” He said laughing.

“Hey, You had me worried! Take your friend inside before he covers my backseats in drool!” You laughed in a playfully defensive tone.

“Yes ma’am! See you tomorrow, [Y/N]! Nice to finally meet you!” He said saluting to you, and opening the car door.

“Nice meet you too, Jaehyun! You’re just as ridiculous as Johnny said,” You said smirking.

“Did he really say that?” He asked with a seriously surprised look on his face.

“No! I am just kidding, Jaehyun!” You said mocking him.

“Goodnight!” He said laughing and shaking his head.

He got out the car, retrieved y’all’s sleepy friend from the backseat, and shut the doors. He looked back and gave you a playful expression as he helped Johnny back to their apartment.

“Bye...Y/N!” You heard Johnny slur out through your window you had let down.

“Bye, Johnny,” You giggled quietly to yourself as you cranked up your car.

Tonight was a great night!

You might have to thank Johnny...

after he gets through throwing up tomorrow.

-

Oof 😂 Sorry for discrepancies! I just had Jaehyun feels to let out! I never thought I would write a fan fiction again, but here I am. 😂✍🏽👩🏽‍💻

[christophersdicc]

cncoquickies • Train of Thought • Christopher Vélez

Dedicated to my baby @multi-fandomgoddess for supporting and turning notifs on on my account. THANK U BABYYYYY ❤️❤️❤️ this one is for you.

Also this ia a request from @5secondsofapermanentvacation. This request was months ago and I am so sorry baby for taking too long.

Also, send anons/requests, please?

.

It’s been a week since I last saw the guy in the train station. He was smiling at me the whole time we were there and it kind of freaking me out because he looks creepy but he also looks cute. He has this dimple when his smile and his eyes are so brown and big. He looks like a nice guys though. But there is something that happened to us in the train station that I would never forget in my whole life – it was when he fucked the brains out of me in that train station.

He introduced himself as Christopher and he also left his number to me. Maybe because he wanted a fuck buddy. Still, how can I forget the very first time I got laid? He just took my virginity. In a train station. But awkwardly, I love it. Every single second of it.

It was a not-so-busy day in city. It was nice because it was not too hot and not too cold. It was just right.

I rode the train and sat down to a vacant seat. In the train, you can see few people – one who is busy reading his Nicholas Sparks book, a lady sleeping, a 20-ish guy wearing a earphone, probably bopping to some Ariana Grande songs, a teenager busy playing on his phone, and then there’s Christopher, which I didn’t know his name that time. He was looking at me. Like from head to toe. And he is smiling like Joker from the Batman movie. I scrunched up my forehead. Why the fuck is this guy looking at me. I looked away, maybe he’ll just leave me alone. I looked in the window and saw tall skyscraper around the city. It’s really beautiful down here. It was really a good choice that I came here to work. Even I was far from home, I didn’t mind because it was my dream to work here.

My eyes got tired of the view and again I looked around me and the guy is still looking at me. This time, he looks so serious, far from the pervert looks he is giving me earlier. What is he up to? Why the fuck is he looking at me? Is there something on my face? It’s really weird that someone cute will look at me like that because I am not that beautiful. I know, I have a cute face, sorry but not to brag but hey, you got to believe in yourself sometimes.

The train stopped to the station where I should stop. The train door opened and I immediately rushed to the turnstile. I was rushing so I can avoid the creepy guy looking at me earlier but to my surprise…

“Hey, you left this.”

Oh my God.

The creepy guy from the train.

He gave me a blue coin purse which I left in the train. And he smiled.

“I’m Christopher. And you’re?

I was stunned. He even look more beautiful this close. Damn I would jump right to him if he was not being creepy earlier.

The look on his eyes tells me something. I scanned his gorgeous face. His eyes are so round. His skin looks like a glass. And his lips is so perfect. This man right here is something more than a creepy guy. He is something. And I know it. So I decided to me mischievous.

“Come with me?” I said. His face turned into a confused mode. He didn’t really expect me to say this. Well…

I guide him to the part of the station where is not much people passing by until we found the restroom. I held his hands, which is, by the way, so soft and silky. We entered in the female restroom, and I locked it.

I aggressively pushed him in the door, latching into his shirt’s color. “I know what you want.” I said.

I immediately kissed him and it caught him off guard. I love it when someone got shocked with my kisses. Well, in fact, I haven’t kissed anyone. Ugh, am I being dumb for doing this?

He broke the kiss. “Damn,” He said. “You want this?”

I nod.

And in a snap of a finger, he carry me in the lavatory, and let me sit in the sink while he’s kissing me. I started scanning his chest to search for the button of his shirt until I got it, I immediately unbutton it all the way. I pit my hands up so he can pull my shirt up. Now, I’m just wearing my bra and he’s shirtless. Now, we’re half naked.

I smiled. Now is the time to get naughty.

His hands reached for the waistband of my pant and started putting his hands inside my crotch. He touched my clit like crazy and I threw my head back in response to the wave of pleasure he’s sending me

“You like that, huh?”

His voice is so raspy and it’s making me want inside me.

I moaned and moaned like no one’s going to hear us outside. I don’t care. Let them hear us.

I got impatient and I went down where I was sitting, and I went on my knees to unbuckle his pants. A big log greeted me. It was huge. Like huge HUGE. It’s the kind of dick you’ll get choked my just putting the head in your mouth. It’s unbelievable big.

“Can you take it all in?” He asked naughtily. Damn this man is giving me that challenge of my life!

I nod. And I started playing it for a little bit. I slap myself with his dick and it makes him giggle for a little. I started to get serious and putting my tongue on the head. I started circling my tongue around it and it made his jerk in response. It was cute of him when he’s rolling his big beautiful eyes when I play on his member.

After playing it like it was a toy, I put it in my mouth. It was a mouthful, I’m not going to lie. It was big. I started bobbing my head and putting my tongue of a little so get that pleasure and sensation he’s been looking.

He started moaning so loud and I got a little conscious. But damn, his moans are so fucking sexy and I love it.

I felt his hand grabbed my shoulder and he pulled me up. “Let’s get this shit done.” He said.

He took my pants and underwear in one pull. It was half way my legs.

“Now bend over.” He commanded and I obeyed. I put my arms in the sink and I arched my back.

On the mirror, I saw him pulled a condom, and wrapped around his big dick. After putting the protection, he slid on me. And I almost felt his big dick in my stomach. It’s poking every single motherfucking button inside me. The pleasure makes me dizzy. But I fucking love it.

He slowly pulled his dick out and slid roughly into me. And did it repeatedly. My face is now slammed in the mirror. I grabbed the edge of the sink like my life depends on it. The sensation is sending me somewhere. My mind is floating and I feel like my soul is leaving my body. It hurts but is feels so fucking good.

He changed his pace and he west small slides but faster and faster and faster until I felt waves of pleasure in my stomach. I’m near.

After a few pounds, I jerk and I came. It was good but he was not done. I almost cry-shout because of the sensation. He was not done to me. And he keeps on pounding the shit out of me.

He growls for a little and it was the signal that he is near. I clenched my core so it will be tighter. He pounds me faster and he exhaled. He came. I felt his hot liquid squirting inside the condom.

He pulled out of me slowly and I feel empty. He grabbed my shoulder and let me face him.

“Here’s my number. Call me.”

He grabbed all his stuff and fix himself and left.

I grabbed my shirt and pulled my pants up. I looked at the number. And now my train of thought is so messy. I can’t think of anything but his face.

Damn, I’m so whipped.

[darling-clemmy]

Summer Dreams: One (ClemxLouis FanFiction)

Summary: Louis arrives at Ericson’s Camp for Troubled Youth for the third summer in a row. Most everything is exactly the same, except for the new, pretty, junior counselor with curly hair.

Warnings: Swearing and in later chapters some mature-ish themes (NOT smut though!)

Word Count: 2,218

A/N: I have altered some of the reasons for the Ericson’s kids presences (mostly Violet) because I felt like their backstories were too intense/serious to only result in going to a summer camp. Also, this is going to be a multi-part series, but I’m not sure how many yet!

The late June heat seeped into Louis’ mom’s car despite the air conditioner being on high. It was only 9:30 in the morning, and already 89 degrees, which was alarming since it was a cool 60 earlier that morning when they left. It was about an hour and a half drive from their relatively large house to the summer camp which Louis dreaded going to. To him, the only good part about it was seeing his long-distance friends, like Marlon and Violet. And maybe Aasim, too.

Every summer, his father decided he needed time away from his son, still not fully forgiving him for the mischievous frauds committed by Louis years ago. He also believed that since they were so well off financially, it’d be good for him to experience some authentic outdoor time in the blistering heat. This was really just an attempt to humble Louis a little, but everyone at Ericson’s felt he was always going to be a little spoiled. They still loved him, though, and knew he was a genuinely good person under all of his designer clothes and expensive rings.

Lost in thought, Louis barely noticed when his mom returns to the car, jiggling the locked handle outside vigorously. He reached over to the driver’s side door and pulled the handle for her. She smiled at him and slided into her seat, placing the bulk of requisite paperwork in her lap.

Louis groaned and slumped his head and shoulders back. “Really? Paperwork, again? They should know I’m a regular now, especially after last year because of the whole laundry detergent accident.”

“It isn’t an accident if you meant to do it,” his mother reminded him. “And don’t get all fired up, I already filled it all out for you.”

“You know, I bet we’re the only family that has to fill out all of that crap every year.” He turned to face his mom, prematurely smiling at what he was about to say. “I bet we only have to because Mr. Ericson totally has a thing for you.”

She rolled her eyes while trying to repress a smirk. Light-heartedly, she said, “You’re crazy. He probably has a lovely wife and four amazing kids and maybe, like, a golden retriever, or something.”

“Mm, nope, he has some kind of pit bull. Her name’s Rosie—she bit some kid in that area last year.”

“Anyway,” she replied after chucking a bit. “I’m sure if your dad was the one to drop you off he’d have to fill out all the same stuff.”

Louis adverted his eyes and became quiet for a moment before mumbling, “As if he’d ever want to drop me off.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out so bitter, since he really was more sad about it than anything else. A good relationship with his dad was something he had wished for every year as he blew out birthday candles. He prayed that somehow everything would change. Of course, it never really did.

His mom sighed and placed a hand against his arm. “He does love you, Louis. You’re his son, his only child. Nothing can break that, even millions of mistakes.”

He nodded, still not meeting her dark brown eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart. You should start heading into the main building. I think I saw Marlon and his mother earlier.” She said, making Louis perk up a bit in hopes of seeing his friend.

“I love you, too, Mom. I’ll try to call as soon as I can,” Louis scrambled, stepping out of the car. Quickly, he grabbed his two suitcases out of the trunk and headed towards the front court yard, smiling back once at his mom.

+++

The dining hall was a familiar place to Louis. He had spent nearly every night in there for the past two summers, playing juvenile card games and eating the same bland food. The chatter of dozens of voices, the occasional clang of pots in the kitchen, and the long oak benches had become comforting to him. It was always a place of good memories, with more to be made in the upcoming weeks. Every camp season’s orientation was in here as a meeting place for new and old camp members and counselors.

Louis and his large group of friends sat together, taking up most of a section in the back. To his left was Marlon, sent to camp for extreme anger issues and fits of violence. On his right was Violet, who was sent for “not having any emotions,” according to her mother.

“So, Violet,” Louis starts. “I see Minnie and Sophie aren’t here. Do you know why?”

She blushed a pale rose at the mention of her annual summer-time girlfriend. “No idea. Maybe they did some acts of good service or some shit and their mom let them stay home.”

“That’d be a real shame, wouldn’t it?” Marlon teased, poking his head into their conversation.

“Fuck off,” Vi replied. “Why don’t you and Brody go get a heads start on sucking face in the bathrooms?”

Louis chucked, “And probably other parts of their bodies—“

He was cut off by the shrilling sound of an older man’s voice—Mr. Ericson’s voice, in the introduction of the same bullshit speech he gave every year about their mission to help each individual personally.

“While we stick with the same foundation to Ericson’s,” he went on. “This year, we have decided to make a change considering our counselors.”

Everybody started chatting once again, most in hopes that they finally fired Larry, the oldest and strictest counselor at Ericson’s.

“Settle down, everyone,” the old man interrupted. “No, we have not fired anybody, though Larry has retired. This year, we have hired some junior counselors to tag along with a senior one. They’re all teenagers, like yourselves, so that you can really see examples of responsible, well-rounded young adults.”

Marlon shifted towards Louis. “You think any of them will be hot?”

Louis shook his head. “Nah. Even if, they’re ‘well-rounded young adults.’ They wouldn’t go for us.”

“Well, if there are any, I call dibs.” Marlon stated, forcing a laugh out of Louis.

“We’ll see about that.”

Marlon roller his eyes subtly before turning back to face the front.

“Alright, everybody! Start heading to your assigned cabins and get rested for the first day of activities tomorrow. If you see a new counselor, make sure to introduce yourself! They won’t bite!” Mr. Ericson said, making only himself laugh.

+++

Later that night, once the moon was at its peak and everyone else was asleep, Louis crept out out of the cabin he shared with three others—Marlon, Mitch, and Justin. It was still moderately warm outside, but thankfully accompanied by a brisk wind which would pass by every so often. Clad in just sweatpants and an old provided green camp t-shirt, Louis made his best attempt to rush over to the music and arts hall as quick as he could. Dirt crunched beneath his shoes, making him worry he’d awaken somebody in his pursuit.

Finally, he made it to the small building which held his favorite past-time at camp, the grand piano. He had always loved music, although most nobody took him seriously when they heard him play, except for his mom. Even Marlon couldn’t hold a straight face when Louis played him Für Elise, which he had finally mastered after three straight weeks of learning it. Louis kept playing, though, even if it had to be in the dead of night.

He tip-toed up the rickety stairs to the front door, grabbing the rusted door knob once reaching the top. It didn’t budge.

“Dammit,” he whispered.

Suddenly, a nearby door creaked open, allowing dim light from inside to drain out onto the ground. Louis pressed his back against the door, still peaking his head to see in front of a pillar. All he could really make out was the silhouette of a girl, appearing to be carrying a small plastic bag out to a trash can. She clearly wasn’t a senior counselor, leaving her only to be a new camper or one of the new, dearly beloved junior counselors. Louis figured he wouldn’t get in too much of trouble if he just started walking back to his cabin then. And he may get to meet somebody new while doing it.

He started making his way towards the group of trash cans where the mysterious girl stood, pushing down whatever she just placed in. As he got closer, he was able to discern more characteristics of the figure, like her curly hair tied into two full pigtails. While this was expected to make someone seem child-like, Louis could already tell from the back of her that she could pull it off.

Once he got a few feet away from her, he greeted in a muted shout, “Hey!”

She jumped a bit in her place, instinctively turning around, curly tendrils hitting against her jaw.

The first thing Louis noticed about her were her eyes—bright even in the darkness and the color of ancient amber. They startled him, but he still found them beautiful, enchanting, even. She was on the shorter side, yet still held herself as if she was tall. She wore a pair of black exercise shorts and a baby blue t-shirt, signifying that she was in fact a junior counselor.

He supposed he was wrong earlier that there wouldn’t be any attractive ones. This girl was so much more than attractive, though.

“Hello?” She responded, curiously and dragging out her word.

“Sorry to disrupt your nightly chores. I’m Louis,” he apologized before holding out his hand.

She grasped it and shook it, suspiciously. “Clementine.”

“Well, I guess I should cut to the chase. See, the music hall is locked, preventing me from becoming the world’s next best pianist. Now, I know I’m not supposed to be awake, but neither are you most likely. So I was wondering if maybe you could unlock it for me?” He rushed out, flashing a toothy grin at the end in hopes his charm would woo her.

Clementine sighed before looking at him quizzically. After a moment, she gave in and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do. You’re lucky I have the keys to it.”

Louis pumped his fist in the air, really not expecting her to say yes. “Booyah! Thank you, Clementine.”

She smiled kindly at him and started walking towards the music hall. Louis followed behind her, jogging to catch up. He looked over at her and realized her eyebrows were now furrowed together as she reached up to her lanyard to grab the set of keys, fingering one silver one over the others.

Once they reached the cabin, she swiftly jabbed it in and unlocked it. As soon as the door opened, Louis could smell the scent of waxed floors and oak. In the back left corner lay his favorite piano, tempting his fingers to spread across the white notes. He cooly walked over to it and sat down, trying not to let Clementine see him get too giddy.

“How long have you been playing?” She asked, leaning against the cover.

“A few years, I mostly play when I come here, though,” he explained.

“So you’re a regular camper? That must suck.”

“It has its pros,” Louis shrugged. “You clearly aren’t the biggest fan of this place. Why’d you wanna’ work here?”

Clementine walked around the piano, sitting down next to him on the stool. “It pays well and seemed easy, but I don’t know if I’ll have this job for too much longer if anyone finds out about this.” She looked around the room.

“You really aren’t being that good of an influence on me, but don’t worry, I won’t tell.” He said, winking and splaying his fingers across the board.

He started playing a song from memory, not remembering which one it was. His palms felt sweaty with Clementine sitting right next to him, observing each melody played. She sat quietly, and from Louis’ peripheral vision, she was grinning loosely.

“You’re quite good, you know,” she complimented. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to do this at one in the morning, though.”

He played one more chord before stopping and meeting his eyes to her’s. “Maybe this was all just a master plan to talk to a pretty girl like yourself.”

She blushed, glancing down at the floor before standing up. “I should probably start getting back to my cabin. Need to be up early tomorrow.”

“Right. So do I, I don’t want Marlon to wake up and call for, like, a rescue team,” Louis joked, raising up next to her. “Let me walk you back to your cabin. It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s only like a hundred feet from here. I can handle myself, but thank you.” Clementine ticked her hair behind an ear before pacing over to the front door. “See you around, I hope.”

He raised his hand and waved. “Goodnight, Clementine.”

“Goodnight, Louis.”

She closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Louis alone, standing amidst the dying candle light.

He could feel his heart beating the whole walk back as he thought about the way she’d said his name when she wished him goodnight.

[happypledis]

Get to know me tag

Tagged by @nuest-yakjaro! Wow for once I’m actually doing a tagged thing QUICKLY :O

                                                    1. How tall are you?

legit 1 cm away from 5′7 (I’m 169 cm) though my mom is 5′7 (170 cm) and my dad is 6′1-6′2 (idk exactly? so 180 something cm). I always thought I’d be like 5′9 or taller lol 

2. What color and style is your hair? Light brown! And it’s long and wavy! 2b/c ish on the curl charts??

3. What color are your eyes?

brown-green! they appear only brown to most people but up close they’re actually green. I love brown eyes though so it’s all good!

4. Do you wear glasses? yes, but only for homework/driving etc. I have an astigmatism, aka one amazingly perfect eye that does all the work for the other super bad one. so I wear glasses to help balance it out. I have horrible nighttime depth perception though so :O

5. Do you wear braces? I did for SO MANY years that I would sue if my teeth didn’t come out straight

6. What’s your fashion sense? I have a mix of sporty (like athleisure in a way??), casual, and cute. Weirdly my casual style is like 90′s grunge without the distressing or all the black. Think maybe 90′s grunge shirts/pants/shoes/ etc but in a sunshiney happy way? And also without the black & white striped long sleeves underneath or any grandpa sweaters. Tbh I would wear long sleeves and sweaters 24/7 if I could though I don’t actually match the grunge style for those two. My cute style is like huge sweaters especially pastel with a little k-fashion inspiration?? okay I’m gonna stop lol

7. Full name? I just go by Elle for privacy reasons~

8. Where were you born?

A very diverse suburb in Texas! I love Texas and this area I live in

9. What kind of student are you? Very dedicated. I’m good at school. I love learning and I don’t mind studying. I was not super good at math but other subjects I’ve always done well in. I’m very proud of my grades but who knows what will happen because my uni classes are a bit harder this fall.

10. Do you like school? Yes, as I said I love learning! I was homeschooled and that made learning fun. I didn’t have to learn to the test or worry about drama on the daily. Being homeschooled made it hard to get better at math though as my mom stunkkk even worse than me and my engineer dad would make me cry so a patient teacher I wasn’t related to would have been good there

11. Favorite subject

Basically anything without numbers! I love English (not essays though but I’m gonna major in English so RIP lol) and history most! Science was good when numbers weren’t involved.

12. Favorite TV Shows Hm I don’t really watch TV currently, usually only youtube channels and dramas. But I loved super hero shows like X-Men Evolution, Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, Young Justice, etc. I also always liked detective stuff like Psych and this one cool show called Sue Thomas FB Eye. 

13. Favorite Movies

The Narnia movies, anything in the MCU but especially Cap’s movies, Black Panther, & the new spider man. also Tangled & Moana! I like happy stuff mainly. Entertainment for me is for fun so I don’t want super sad or violent stuff in my life >:(

14. Favorite Books This is so hard. Scumble, The Chronicles of Narnia (like @nuest-yakjaro I love CS Lewis too), some super unpopular old medieval-fantasy Christian books given to me by a family friend that really influenced me as a person lol, and the Princess Academy Series. Also anything by Margaret Peterson Haddix.

15. Favorite Past-time Writing, language learning, hanging w/ friends online or off

16. Do you have any regrets? Yes. I regret letting insecurity run my life for way too long. And letting fear stop me from speaking up for myself in friendships/relationships. Life is too short.

17. Dream Job Some sort of job where I can be in the publishing field and maybe travel to Korea & China for the job. (Not for kpop/kboo reasons, I loved the cultures before I liked kpop.) But overall a job where I can help people, and use things I’m good at--English/writing, and other foreign languages, with a slightly flexible schedule.

18. Would you ever get married? If I ever found someone I loved enough to, yes. But I truly love being single, it fits me very well and I don’t have a strong desire for romance in my life 

19. Would you like to have kids? I’ve thought about fostering/adopting older kids or teenagers. I love kids, and little kids, but I don’t see how I could raise young ones alone if I do stay single.

20. Do you like shopping? Depends on the item but nowadays yes!

21. Scariest Nightmare You’ve Had

Mostly kidnapping-centric ones as a kid. I don’t get nightmares so much anymore but I do get them about relationships sometimes which are scary in their own way. Like having people I really care for secretly hating me, for example.

22. Any enemies? none that have ever announced themselves

23. Any significant others?  um. not anymore. i did about a week ago until I had to break it off though

 24. Do you believe in miracles?

very much so. I’m religious and have seen them in my life and in others’.

25. How are you? haha. good besides what happened in #23 I’ll be honest XD

I’ll tag

@pledisanti @nuest-turtle @8eht 

@nuest-beast , @aronquacks / @lazyhani (whichever one you are online to see this @ from lol) 

[ezilyamuzed]

1996

Summary: A teenage reader discovers that there is a case nearby her hometown, she goes to investigate finding much more than what she expected.

Word count: 4600ish 

Warnings: Language. Mentions of blood. Angst? Fluff? (I don't know what to really call...this)

Pairing: teenage!Dean x teenage! Reader

A/N: This was written for Rose’s 1k Follower Challenge ( @waywardrose13). The prompt was “P1: I like your knife. I’m keeping it.” P2: “That was my favorite knife.” This was my first challenge, but I kind of liked where it went. As always I thank you for reading...whatever this is, and appreciate any feedback!

Friday, September 13th, 1996.

The news of Tupac’s Las Vegas shooting and impending death had taken over the news media for the last week. They barely had mentioned anything about another young girl’s disappearance within Whispering Woods, a seemingly quiet and isolated area just an hour away from your hometown. She was not the first girl to disappear though, by now there was at least 6 since the end of spring when travelers went with their families to an innocent camp out for the weekend. Daughters missing into the night, mostly in their late teens. No sign of them again. No bodies ever recovered. No trace of foul play. 

You had a pang of guilt in your stomach as you drove up to your friend’s family cabin that hid in the middle of the woods. You didn’t exactly lie to your parents, more like excluded 90% of the truth. You were going to Celeste’s cabin, but not to have a girl’s weekend. You had work to do. They were so oblivious to what was going on. They didn’t know what was out there. They were the lucky ones. They had been so excited that you had shown interest in actually spending time with another person that they waved you off happily, filling your gas tank and packing your camping supplies.  

After stopping to grab other provisions, mostly jerky, water, and sugary snacks, you arrived at the cabin about 6 o’clock at night. While Celeste had questioned you intensely about why you wanted to use it, she gave in while handing you the key. She just shrugged it as one of the weird things that you typically do by yourself but begged you to not leave it destroyed, or her parents would kill her. You promised you would keep it the same way you found it, after all, whatever was out there never left a trace…

After throwing all your stuff into the cabin, you decided that you should start casing out the area. The sun was still out, but you grabbed a flashlight and the pocket knife you had stolen from your dad 2 years ago... just in case. Birds were chirping happily above in the trees as you made your way through what seemed to have been an old man-made path through the trees. The light hitting the ground as it peaked through the tall branches overhead. Wood chips and discarded branches snapping under your sneakers as you made your way through cautiously. It was beautiful here. Honestly, if you weren’t here to find a girl grabbing monster, you would have allowed yourself to sit and enjoy the peacefulness and tranquility that surrounded you. 

The sound of a steady stream of water running hit your ears and made you turn toward it. After pushing branches out of your way and ducking underneath some of them, you found yourself at the edge of a small creek. You noted from the watch on your wrist that you had already walked for over an hour, so you decided to allow yourself to sit for a quick 10-minute break. You leaned back using your hands to steady yourself upright as you let your head to fall back to take in your surroundings. Your eyes closed as you felt at absolute peace for once in your life. No one was around to bother you. That was the way you liked it. 

A loud snap of a branch behind you made you jump to your feet quickly. When you turned your body to attack whatever was there you were met with bright green eyes widened in shock. A teenage boy, probably about a year or two older then you standing a foot away. 

“What are you doing here?” you questioned while stepping back from the boy.

“Camping,” he said calmly. “What are you doing out here alone? You know it’s not safe for little girls to be wandering alone into the woods. Haven’t you ever read Red Riding Hood?”

You rolled your eyes at his remarks. “I’m not a little girl, I can take care of myself.”

“Uh huh,” he grunted while noting that you were a petite girl almost a foot shorter than him. “Well, Red, it’s almost dark so you should probably head back to your family before you get lost out here alone. I don’t really feel like finding anyone dead later.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you moved past his side to get back to the path towards the cabin. What a jerk he was by calling you little girl and Red after the children’s story. You were not a child, you could take care of yourself. You have before on plenty occasions. 

As you walked back to the cabin, your thoughts were still going over your encounter with the boy. He was handsome…well actually more like fucking gorgeous. He had amazing bright green eyes with long lashes surrounding them. Little freckles subtly spread along his nose and cheeks. Tussled short light brown with hints of blonde hair. Wearing rugged dark denim jeans and a black t-shirt that was covered by an old leather jacket that was obviously too big for him. If you had met him anywhere else you would have wanted him to grab your number, maybe even take you on a date. You had met him in the middle of the woods though, where girls were missing. It also kind of creeped you out that he mentioned it wasn’t safe out here alone. Did he know something was going on? Was he somehow at the root?

As the cabin appeared in the distance, the weather shifted above sending little raindrops to fall down your shoulders. You cursed the weather, hoping that it didn’t continue or turn worse. It would be even harder to tell if something was out there, out to get you if the sound of rain overtook the area. When you finally stepped inside the cabin a crack of lightning startled you, causing you to slam the door behind you while securely fastening the locks. Great. Fucking great.

You changed your now wet clothes into an oversized tee and plaid pajama pants. The fireplace in the living room lit relatively quickly, allowing you to sit back into the old couch to rest and wait. It was going to be a long night of waiting. Maybe nothing would happen to you? Perhaps you had imagined that there was a case here in the first place? Your thoughts of all the articles that you were able to find at the library had given you a reason to at least investigate, but what if you were just trying to find trouble? The thoughts continued as you laid back your head, slowly falling into a deep sleep. 

BOOM!

The loud sound of thunder made your eyes snap open out of your sleep. Your eyes focused on your watch stating it had been about 2 hours since you had gotten back. You turned your body to face the back of the couch as the sleepiness still fell over you. The creak of the wooden floorboard behind you made your body tensed up, almost frozen as you slowly reached into your pocket for the knife. As you quickly turned around lunging up you were able to snap it open and hit something hard in the darkness.

“Ow, God Dammit,” you heard a deep voice rasp. He stepped into the light of the fire that was slowly burning down, revealing the same boy you had seen earlier, now soaking wet, while observing the inch long cut across his forearm. “You got me good there sweetheart.” 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” you yelled while still grasping the knife in your hand. 

“There’s a storm out there.” He said while pointing to the door. “I got a bit lost and found the cabin. I was hoping to at least dry off and wait out the storm. Didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“The door was locked,” you stammered.

“Yeah, but the window to the bedroom wasn’t. You should really be more careful. You don’t want any crazies coming in,” he said with a little grin.

“Yeah, I think they already got in,” you sassed back. “I want you out now. My family is on there way here, and I will not be explaining a creep stalking me.”

“I’ll be out of here in a minute Red,” he said while sitting himself down by the fire. Tiny drops of blood started making their way out if the cut on his arm. “Well he can bleed, must at least be human,” you thought to yourself. 

You got up and turned on the lantern that you had brought that barely illuminated the room. After rummaging through your bags for a moment, you found the little first aid kit your mom insisted that you brought with you. You sat down next to him and positioned his arm along your thighs so you could see if it was deep enough to need a stitch or if a Band-Aid would do the trick. His eyes watching you as you opened up an alcohol pad to clean it. 

“Ow, that stung,” he cried.

“Oh shut up you big baby. You are lucky this was all you got,” you said while attending to his wound. “There all better.”

He glanced down at your work and flashed you a little half-smile. “Thanks, Doc.”

You nodded your head as you put picked up the little wrappers to throw them away. Another boom of thunder shook you as you walked towards the kitchen area. The storm was not letting down anytime soon, and you felt a bit guilt-ridden for wanting to throw this strange boy out into it. Your stomach was rumbling that you were hungry. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in a while either, so you went into the grocery bags to grab both of you something to eat. As you walked back, you tossed him a bottle of water along with a Slim Jim then reseated yourself on the couch away from him as you opened yours.

“Thanks,” he whispered while waiting for you to open yours. 

“Welcome,” you said as you took a huge bite. He followed your lead and ate his within three bites. 

“So what’s your name Red?” he asked while the fire glare bounced along his face. 

“Now you're getting too personal there dude,” you said blatantly. “So why were you out in the woods, lost and alone during this crap storm?”

“I’m not alone…my dad and I split up to cover more…to look for wood,” he said sheepishly. He was definitely lying.

“Uh huh,” you replied sarcastically. “So you went out in the woods in search of wood, and got lost? All while looking like James Dean in your oversized leather jacket. What are you? The rebel without a clue?”

“I was out there for a job,” he stated. “My dad and I, well there is something out there bothering people, and we were just trying to find out what it was. Maybe stop it.”

Something out there. Those words rang in your ears. Who was this guy?

“So what do you think is out there?” you inquired while raising an eyebrow at him. 

He started to look nervous as his pupils dilated. He recomposed himself by shifting his weight on the floor. “Probably just a bear sweetheart.”

“Hunting bears huh?” you said with a scoff. You turned your head to look out the window. The raindrops hitting it and trickling down fast. “I guess you can stay a while. Just keep your distance over there.”

He nodded and took off his boots that were heavy with water. The fireplace was slow to dry him off. You hesitated a minute before getting up to find some towels in the bathroom and pulling out an oversized pair of sweatpants and t-shit you brought just in case you needed it. As you handed him the items his face lite up in gratefulness while thanking you.

He pulled off his soaked t-shirt to reveal his bare chest that was well toned and defined. His muscles rippling along with his movements. Damn, he was built. He stood up to unbutton his jeans but looked over at you shyly while stopping himself. You rolled your eyes and went into the back bedroom while he finished changing. The windows all securely locked in there. You grabbed the little portable radio that sat on a dresser and brought it out with you. You stumbled through the static stations until one came in clear. You bobbed your head along to the beat as the song started up. He watching you intensely as you found yourself singing along. 

Did you see the sky? I think it means that we've been lost Maybe one last time is all we need I can't really help it If my tongue's all tied in knots Jumping off a bridge is just the farthest That I've ever been Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down Anyplace but those I know by heart Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down I'll follow you down, but not that far

You stopped yourself as you noticed he was smiling while watching you sing and dance along.

“Don’t stop because of me Red, you looked like you were having fun there.”

You rolled your eyes as you plopped yourself back down on to the couch. 

“Whatever,” you mumbled. You watched him as he was warming himself along the fire's flames, slowly bobbing his head along to the beat. He was a typical teenager alone in the woods just like you. Who would just leave their child to fend for themselves in these woods? Your parents would kill you if they knew you had been alone. They would straight up murder you if they knew you were now shacked up with a strange guy for the night.  

How you gonna ever find your place Running in an artificial pace Are they gonna find us lying face down in the sand So what the hell now we've already been forever damned.

“So you from around here?” you found yourself asking.

“Nah, just passing through. From Kansas originally, but we move around a lot,” he said while turning his attention to you.

“Hunting bears huh?” you chuckled. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as a drop of water from his hair fell down his face. He quickly brushed it away with the towel you had given him. His eyes shined with the light of the fire as he watched you watching him. He gave a little shrug while gently folding it back up and placing it beside him.

 “So you’re not a crazy psycho murderer right?” He gave you a look of surprise while chuckling out a no. “Just making sure,” you shrugged.

“Are you a crazy psycho murderer who leers young guys into your cabin?”

You shrugged up your shoulders quickly. “Maybe,” you smiled back.

He shook his head while laughing. “I don’t think I have to worry about you with that little pocket knife ya got. Although I do have to say it still stings.”

“Serves ya right! Breaking into someone’s home at night.”

“I did try to knock first, but the thunder was pretty loud. You must not have heard it.”

“Yeah, well with being unconscious and all…”

“Sorry again,” he replied while looking down in guilt while playing with his hands. He pulled on the bottom of the shirt that you gave him to examine the picture and writing. “So a Green Day fan huh?”

“Yeah of course,” you scoffed in surprise. “They have been around forever. Honestly more people should listen to them. I bet in like twenty years they will still be relevant.”

“They are alright,” he said with a little shrug. “Billie Joe is no Robert Plant.”

“Led Zeppelin fan huh?” 

He looked at you in surprise while a grin widened on his face. He gave you an approving nod as he stood up and stretched up his arms while walking past you. The t-shirt revealing the bare lower half of his abdomen that met your eyes as he walked toward the window on the opposite side of the room. He played with it for a second making sure it was securely locked. He turned to you while leaning up against the wall. 

“So what exactly is a girl like you doing out here anyway?”

“Meeting my family for a little vacation,” you lied. 

“They just let you drive up here alone?”

“Yes.” Another lie. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “You're like what 16 and hiding out in the woods by yourself?”

“Don’t be all sexist there Rebel. You are like my age, and your dad sent you off by yourself.”

“Touché.” 

“Anyways, it’s not like I don’t know how to take care of myself. I’m not a child.”

“Yeah okay,” he said while rolling his eyes and turning his eyes back to look out the window. His body tensed up as he stood frozen in place. You didn’t notice as you had gotten up to yell at him.

“Where do you get off…”

“Ssshhh,” he motioned to you while his eyes stayed widened. 

You slowly moved closer to see what exactly had this tall and muscular guy so scared. He moved over for you to look out into woods. Bright glowing eyes in the bushes in the distance. 

“What in the hell…”

“That Red, is trouble,” he said while walking back towards the fire to grab a silver switchblade from his jacket pocket. He nodded over to you to turn off the radio, which you quickly did in response. What the hell was that out there? Glowing eyes…shifter…wolf…maybe a demon? As he rushed through the cabin quietly ensuring everything was securely locked you stood in the middle of the room puzzling over what was going to happen next. Honestly, you found yourself wondering if he had any clue that it probably wasn’t a typical creature out there, As he finished, he walked back to you standing in front of you with his arms crossed and seriousness on his face.

“Look I’m gonna be frank here, that is NOT a bear out there, hell it isn’t even really an animal. It’s here because you are here.”

“Me?” you stuttered as you looked at him in confusion. You knew damn well that the monster you were hunting was after teenage girls…but how could he of known that? Unless he was…

“You’re a god damn hunter aren’t you?” you gasped.

Your words surprised him. He furrowed his eyebrows at you causing crinkles within his forehead.

“You know?” he yelled. “You knew there was something out there grabbing up teenage girls and you came out here knowing it would be after you? Are you suicidal?”

His green eyes had filled with rage that someone would purposely put themselves in danger. “That was his job. How could a young girl do this to herself? Why would she do it?” He thought to himself.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a powerful shot of a gun outside made you jump into his chest that was followed by a horrible cry. He pushed you back behind him as he opened up the switchblade waiting for whatever would come through the door in front of him. The loud noises were muffled by the sound of the rain outside, but it sounded like a fight. 

What was going on out there? Was that his dad out there with it? Was it coming in here? The thoughts all fled through your mind as you found yourself pulling closer into his back while he positioned himself in an attack stance. The noises of the fight had died down. It was quiet. Too quiet. He went to open the door, but you pulled his arm back.

“Don’t leave,” you whispered.

You knew he wanted to go. To see what had happened. To see if it was safe. He let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You let yourself fall into him, wrapping your arms around his back. He felt safe. 

“I won’t go anywhere sweetheart,” he said while tilting his head to listen towards the door for any indication of presences outside. There was none. It was now silent. The only sounds were the fire cracking, your deep breathing, and his steady heartbeat. He pulled you away and led you toward the couch to sit. He stood above you watching if you were alright for the moment before he went to grab blankets from the bedroom. He threw a blanket over you and sat on the opposite side while throwing one over himself. You moved closer to him, leaning on his shoulder making him wrap his strong arm around you. 

“Thank you,” you said calmly, feeling your nerves settling down. You looked up to his eyes that were still staying focused on the door. “What was that?”

“Leshy,” he replied while keeping his focus. 

“What the hell is a Leshy?”

“Woodland spirit that likes to mess with people, get them lost…take young girls…” he said while looking back down to your eyes. “They are just one of many assholes in the wilderness Red.”

His eyes stayed with yours as you nodded to show that you understood. The gaze between the two of you started to make your heart beat faster again, causing your breath to slow down. You bite the upper part of your lip when as he looked away, biting the bottom of his. You couldn’t help yourself in being attracted to him, even when it was possible your life was in danger right at this moment. Hell if you were going to die any second, why shouldn’t you at least feel…something?

“I feel so stupid,” you muttered under your breath. His eyes glanced back to yours in confusion. “I should be out there. I’m supposed to be out there. I came here for it, and now I am cowering on the couch like a helpless little girl.”

He slowly shook his head to you. “You are not stupid for protecting yourself Red. You acted stupidly by coming up here in the first place looking for trouble. Don’t worry in the morning your family will be here with you.”

“Yeah, about that…that was a total lie. I mean do you really think I would have told you that it was only going to be me here?”

He shook his head again. “So why are you here then, alone? Why were you going to hunt down a thing you knew nothing about?”

You took a deep breath to pause before replying. “I don’t really know I guess. There is like a pull in me to help people. I’ve seen…other things before and have come out alive, but this…it’s new.”

“You are still young. Honestly, I say get out now while you can. This is no life to lead especially for a beautiful girl like you,” he said while gazing back to your eyes and pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. He gave a little cough while turning his head towards the fire.

His comment made you feel your cheeks starting to blush along with your heart beating faster. Beautiful. A word you never heard from anyone else but your parents, and here was a stranger, a boy who made your heart race saying it. You cupped the side of his face with your hand and turned him back to yours. You took a deep breath and paused waiting to see if he was going to stop you. Instead, you felt his strong hand grab the back of your neck, pushing your lips onto his. It was slow and steady, both of you parting your lips gently as you fell into one another, allowing your tongues to explore. You felt yourself slowly falling on your back as his hands guided you down. He moved his body over yours while still embracing you slowly. When your back hit the seat fully, he stopped and placed his forehead onto yours while breathing hard. 

“I’m sorry…” he started to whisper.

You leaned up to him and gave him a quick kiss again on his swollen lips. 

“It’s okay. I wanted that. If something is going to happen, I didn’t want to go without…knowing,” you quietly said. 

He sat up on his knees, while you rolled to the edge of the couch to allow him to lay himself beside you. He moved his arm around you, pushing your head into the crook of his neck. Even with wearing your t-shirt, you could smell his subtle cologne that made you bury your head deeper into him. He was intoxicating. You couldn’t help but think if after this you would ever see him again? The notion of the possibility was filled with happiness, which was quickly followed by the dread of the unlikelihood. The two of you laid in silence until both falling into a blissful sleep.

The sounds of birds chirping happily outside woke you out of your sleep. It woke him up as well as he started to rub the sleep out of his eyes while adjusting to the brightness of the sun entering through the windows. 

“Is it over?” you asked while propping yourself up on your hand and looking towards the door. He moved you over and got up to go and investigate. He opened the door and walked out still barefoot. He stepped back in and nodded to you. You pulled on your sneakers while he grabbed his things that were now dried by the fire. He went to pull off the shirt, but you told him to keep it. 

“Keep it huh?”

“Yeah, take it as a token of my gratitude for protecting me last night.”

“I feel like I should give you something in return still.”

You pursed your lips to the side while thinking about all he has already given you. Protection, warmth, kindness and that kiss. You looked around him at the ground and saw his knife lying next to his feet.

“I like your knife. I’m keeping it,” you said while motioning to it with a grin on your face.

He hesitated before picking it up and walking it over to your hands. “That was my favorite knife.”

“And now it will be mine,” you replied while holding it steady in your hand.

“It’s for the best,” he shrugged. “If you run into any more trouble it will definitely help you a lot more then that little pocket knife.”

There was a rumble of an engine in the distance that he directed his eyes to. His head hung down in disappointment that this was it. The job was done. 

“You're leaving now huh?” you said while staring down at the knife.

He pushed himself closer to you, gently raising your chin up to look at his face. He leaned in and gave you a slow but passionate kiss. He pulled himself away from your lips and moved past you towards the door.

“Stay safe Red. I’ll see ya around…someday” he replied while walking out the door. 

You slowly walked to the window to see him get into an old black car that was mostly hidden by the trees and bushes. There goes your protector. The strange boy you had fallen for. The boy whose name you never even knew. 

You would often think about that night, that Friday the 13th that was a part of your beginning. The start of the hunts that went on for many more years. You no longer found yourself afraid as you always carried around the silver switchblade in your pocket. Because with it, he was always with you.

[everlarkficexchange]

His Name on Her Lips

Written by: @appleblossomgirl0305

Prompt 98: Peeta is pining for Katniss, but is about to give up because he can’t figure out a way to get her to notice him and he is being pestered to marry a merchant. He also thinks Katniss is already with Gale. Somehow, he ends up following her or he is already in the woods when Katniss shows up. Katniss, believing she is alone, pleasures herself. When she is finished, she says Peeta’s name. Of course he realizes that he needs to pursue her. [submitted by Anonymous]

Rated: M for sexual situations. In-Panem, canon divergent, takes place prior to the 74th Hunger Games reaping. Possible trigger warnings are allusions to abuse, and while his intentions are pure-ish, Peeta’s actions veer a bit into Peeping Tom territory (I assume the prompt may have made that apparent).

Incredible gratitude to @javistg and @xerxia31 for hosting this event, and a heaping extra scoop of thanks to @xerxia31 for the betaing and free therapy. Writing hasn’t been easy for me lately and fandom events like this are inspiring. Thank you, lovely ladies. 

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The first time Peeta ever came while he was awake, he was fifteen and sitting in history class.

When he was ten, his mother had gathered him and his two teenage brothers into the laundry room to stare at a sheet with a patchwork of yellow stains. She had yelled and pointed and accused them of being filthy animals. His brothers snuck looks of barely concealed hilarity at each other, but Peeta had no idea what was going on and was slightly terrified. At the end of the tirade she screamed at them to get out of her sight. As her youngest turned to leave the small room to trail after his brothers, she grabbed his arm and spun him to face her.

“Promise me you’ll never do that. Promise me you’ll have some self control,” she demanded, loose wisps of her straw-colored hair escaping her severe bun in her fury.

“Do what?” he asked, afraid to know, but also hoping he could muster whatever this request required.

“Touch yourself like an animal.” She breathed in sharply through her nose and clamped her jaw so he could hear her back teeth grind together.

That seemed easy enough, he happily agreed. He was rewarded with a tight lipped smile and ruffle of his curls as he passed through the doorway.

A few years later, he learned what a horrible mistake he had made. His body had awakened in ways he could never have anticipated. Most notably of which was his dick’s frequent hardening at the slightest provocation and its need to be touched. His mother was right, he was a filthy animal, driven to rut and rub against anything that would relieve some of this constant, dizzying yearning.

But a promise was a promise, so he did his best to deny the urges, the demands of his own flesh. And while there were a few wet dreams, that nocturnal euphoria left him pulsing in confused release and terrified of his mother’s ire. It took all of his willpower, but he didn’t touch himself.

This became a more Herculean task when he was fifteen and Katniss Everdeen was seated in front of him in History class. For an entire hour at the end of every school day, he could stare at her, sometimes even catch the sharp scent of the mint leaves she often chewed.

Peeta had spent untold hours staring at the ragged end of her braid as it snaked down her slight back. But this particular day, which was unseasonably warm and stuffy, they were watching a film on the ancient projector. He and Katniss sat in the row against the wall, closest to the window, so the natural light was filtering through the multitude of small tears in the curtains. Her body was angled towards the window, giving him of a view of her profile.

The heat and the incessant ticking of the projector as a spooled the film from reel to reel, the drone of the Capitol narrator cast a dream-state over the room.

He was already half hard as he traced the column of her neck with his ravenous eyes. Her skin was dark, flushed and dewy with a light sheen of sweat. He wanted to lick the length of her neck, burrow his nose into the hollow of her throat. By the time he got to her braid, he was so hard, his cock was pushing against the fly of his pants. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a position that made him feel less cramped, but didn’t require him to move any farther from her.

His greedy eyes traveled down the length of her braid. His fingers itched to run it between his fingers, to feel the smooth woven rope give way to the roughness of the fringe at the end. He wanted to make a paint brush out of it and watch the paint trail its mark across the paper as indelibly as she was marked across his heart. He wanted to feel the whisper of it against his overheated skin, his lips, his chest. In his imagination, he ran it up the sensitive underside of his rigid cock. The pleasure shot up the length of his dick, causing him to gasp and double over onto his desk.

Katniss twisted around her seat to investigate the sound and ended up only inches from his face. He fell headlong into the silver of her eyes as he pulsed and came and shook. He gripped the edge of the desk until he could sit up.

“You okay?” she whispered. That was the first time she had ever addressed him directly. Even through the post-orgasmic fog and creeping terror, he longed to hear his name from her lips.

He nodded rapidly, terrified that she could see exactly what had just happened to his body all over his flushed face. She turned back around slowly and he glanced down to see the wet spot blooming across the front of his pants. Holy shit, he didn’t even know such a thing was possible. What he did know was that he had to get out of there before the bell rang and everyone else figured out what had happened.

Shoving his pencil behind his ear, he slid his notebook off the desk and held it strategically in front of his crotch. Walking stiffly, he shuffled to where the teacher was sitting in the back of the room and said he felt ill. The teacher, obviously as undone by the heat as the rest of them, barely glanced at Peeta as he waved him away.

As he turned to quietly ease the door closed, he caught the flash of her quicksilver eyes, felt her stare like the slash of a knife.

Rather than trying to clean up in the school bathroom, he hurried home. Once he’d made it upstairs, he changed his clothes and did his best to rinse his shorts and pants, the memory of those yellow stains on the sheet from years before making his hands shake. What would his mother think of him if she knew he’d soiled himself at school? He suspected this would be an even worse offense than the sheets had been. Would she consider it a broken promise? What would she break in return?

He lay the damp clothes out under his bed and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

As he returned downstairs to the bakery to start his shift, he couldn’t seem to keep his mind off of Katniss. He seemed incapable of being so close to her and not physically reacting. Why did she have that effect on him? He wanted to hold her and keep her safe, dote on and worship her, defile her with his unquenchable lust for her all at the same time. It made him feel deranged to want all of these things at once; to want her so badly. And he was nice. Ask anyone! He was pretty sure that no one in the entire district would call him a sex fiend.

To settle himself, he forced his mind out of the gutter and it landed on one of his favorite fantasies, lovingly imagined so many times it had worn a deep, smooth groove in his mind. He and Katniss, married for a year or two (long enough for them to be in the same room without voraciously ripping each other’s clothes off, that was another fantasy altogether, but not his very favorite), working side by side at their own kitchen counter. She was humming absentmindedly as she prepared two cups of mint tea. He watched her contentedly as he kneaded dough for their dinner, glancing over her shoulder at the last rays of afternoon sun drenching their small garden. He closed his eyes as that intoxicating wave of warmth washed over him, what it would feel like to know she was his.

The truth was that none of it mattered. His stomach bottomed out as he reminded himself that Katniss Everdeen didn’t know, or care, that he was alive. But the memory of her eyes watching him leave the classroom just hours before made him wonder if just maybe, she wasn’t as oblivious to him as he’d always thought.

His father was standing in front of the pantry, rubbing the back of his neck when Peeta came downstairs the following morning. Peeta joined him, standing side by side staring at the cold cellar, and looked over at his father questioningly. They were nearly the same height now. Mellark men weren’t particularly tall, and Peeta seemed to be following suit, starting to fill out horizontally through his chest and shoulders rather than gaining any more height.

His father glanced over at Peeta and whispered, “I really want some bacon for breakfast.”

Peeta nodded sympathetically as his stomach growled. Bacon sounded incredible, but Mrs. Mellark only allowed them to eat the rashers on Sunday mornings, so there was no point it dwelling on what couldn’t be.

Peeta and his father both started when Mrs. Mellark asked loudly what they were doing staring into the pantry and why they hadn’t gotten started on breakfast. Mr. Mellark apologized to his wife and looked pensive as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

“I was thinking of making one of those marzipan cakes that Mrs. Sprucewood enjoys so much,” he mused.

Her sharp blue eyes shot up to his father’s face and she asked, “Do we have enough butter?”

“That’s what I was just trying to work out.”

She licked her lips, already tasting the extra income Mrs. Sprucewood could provide. “What if you used our family’s butter ration too?”

“That could work,” Mr. Mellark mused, “‘but what about our breakfast? How will I fry the eggs?” He looked so perplexed, Peeta wanted to kick him for overselling it.

Mrs. Mellark moved in front of him, taking a mental inventory of the cellar. “What if you fried up a rasher or two of the bacon and used the grease?” she asked as if it was her idea.

“That could work,” Mr. Mellark mused, “but what about Sunday?”

“Well,” his mother said, a small smirk playing on her lips, “if you do your job right with the marzipan cake, we’ll have a little extra for some more bacon.”

Peeta watched incredulously as his father bopped his mother’s nose playfully, “You’re so damned clever, I knew there was a reason I married you.”

Mrs. Mellark pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly at the compliment, but instructed her husband to get started on breakfast all the same. Mr. Mellark shot Peeta a sly wink as he grabbed the bacon and danced to the stove.

Shaking his head, Peeta got started with the morning chores as the sizzle and pop of cooking bacon filled the kitchen. His father might be an evil genius.

“Oh, and have Peeta deliver the cake to the Sprucewood’s. The daughter is a year behind him in school and could make an advantageous match,” his mother called over her shoulder.

Peeta suppressed the small thrill of fear that made his scalp prickle at his mother’s words. He’d figure out a way to explain that he was actually going to marry Katniss Everdeen as soon as figured out how to say two words to Katniss without spontaneously orgasming.

He sat at the lunch table picking at the stale roll he’d brought for lunch. As usual, Katniss sat in the corner with Madge Undersee. Without meaning to, his eyes were drawn to her like relentless magnets. It felt like a sickness, this pointless need for her. Like his brain was impervious to the continual feedback that she didn’t want him back, didn’t want anything to do with him. Madness, he thought. The very definition of madness. But he stared at her anyway. He sat up straighter, reveling in the strength of her body even from across the room. He wanted to internalize that defiance, to take her into his own body so her rigid spine would support him. Fuck, he wanted her so badly, in so many ways.

He must be defective. He’s always suspected. His mother’s disdain, his brothers’ indifference, his father’s feeble love that offered no protection. But that he could love Katniss so completely and she didn’t even notice, he must be worthless. And he tried to hate her. He really, truly did. But instead he burned for her. And after awhile, he stopped fighting his devotion. It was pointless not to love her.

By the time he turned sixteen, Peeta had given up trying to keep his promise to his mother. It was clear that she hated him regardless of whether he tortured himself by denying his base urges. He might as well take what little pleasure he could find. Though he was careful to always hide the evidence in a colored rag.

Besides, it would have been impossible to deny the riot of need that Katniss continued to inspire in him. That year, Katniss’ body had changed in ways that were impossible to ignore. Her slight frame had gently curved and swelled to perfection. And while the boys in his class couldn’t stop talking about Delly Cartwright’s colossal tits that swayed and bounced hypnotically, Peeta considered Katniss’ smaller, but shapelier breasts the absolute ideal.

Everything about her was tantalizing, she was mouthwatering. Literally, his mouth would water when she was anywhere near him. It was a strange response, he realized. But then he started to imagine all the ways he could taste her. What would those dark red lips taste like? They were always a little chapped. Would they taste of mint? Or the skin on her neck? And he tried not to even let the thought enter his mind until he was alone or even better, in the shower, but what about her nipples? He had seen the hard points poking through her thin shirt on cold days when her sweater with its missing buttons refused to stay closed. He had to pull his own sweater down low to hide the instantaneous reaction that had sprung forth at the sight of those tight buds. What color were they? Would they taste sweet (he imagined strawberries) when he ran his tongue around the peak or sucked one into his mouth. That image was enough to send him over the edge after a stroke or two of his hand.

One afternoon as he worked with his brothers to unload the flour sacks into the storeroom, his oldest brother made an off-handed comment about what pussies Peeta and Rye were. Rye responded with that gesture, the one where he made a V with his fingers, his tongue waggling at the juncture and for the first time Peeta realized what that vulgar symbol stood for. And because he was a depraved teenage boy, and the two things he craved most in life were food and sex, he became obsessed with the need to taste Katniss Everdeen’s pussy.

Once the idea had taken root, it was all he could think about. He spent his days adjusting himself to try to hide his perpetual hard on. He had seen pictures of naked women, but girls’ bodies were so secretive. What wonders lay between those lower lips?

He pretended to be sick one day at lunch, hunching slightly and holding his stomach as he shuffled away from his friends towards the office. But veering down the hallway, he ducked into the library instead. He found the book they had used for Health Class in 6th grade and shoved it into his bag unnoticed.

That night, as he poured over the rudimentary sketches of the female anatomy that seemed drawn for the sole purpose of confusing him and making sex unarousing, he tried to understand what fathomable wonders could lie in Katniss’ underwear.

Quickly, he lost patience with the confounding books and began to draw.

Over the next several months he drew Katniss Everdeen incessantly. Admittedly, it started with some exceptionally risque imaginings of her naked, beckoning, pleading from the page for him to defile her in all the ways he had spent years imagining. But when he closed his eyes at night, he always saw the same image, the view of her from his seat in history class. He became an expert in the graceful curve of her neck extending up from the frayed collar of her sweater, thick braid snaking over her delicate shoulder, her daydreamy profile, chin rested on fist as her luminous gray eyes stared at the world beyond the glass, like a tethered hawk.

It was amazing how close to her he began to feel. While only a small handful of words were exchanged between them, his time spent drawing every real and imagined detail of her face, her posture, the defiant set of her shoulders made him love her more.

On a Saturday in late spring, he was just finishing the intricate piping along the edge of a cake for Rooba the butcher when he heard the two quick knocks that signaled Gale Hawthorne was at the garden door. Gale had a way of making even a knock sound like aggressive, like he was just barely restraining himself from putting his knuckles through the door. Peeta’s older brother was in the same class as Gale, and despised him. But Peeta suspected that had more to do with the fact that Rye had sullenly reported that he’d recently seen Gale and Elsa Fairborne enjoying the slag heap.

Peeta knew that Gale had lost his father in the same mine accident that had claimed Katniss’s dad. He had watched Gale arrive at school trailed by his eerily identical younger brothers and with his tiny sister perched on his shoulders. He knew it couldn’t be easy to have to help to feed all those mouths without a business, or a legal one anyway. Despite this, Peeta could never fathom how Gale could look so chronically pissed. If Peeta got to spend his days with Katniss Everdeen, got to see the veil of wary distrust clear from her eyes when she looked at him like it did when Katniss glanced up at Gale, Peeta wouldn’t be able to force the euphoric grin off his face for anything in the world.

Peeta’s father slid the hot tray onto the countertop and, glancing behind him to make sure that the door to the front of the bakery was closed, opened the back door. Peeta adjusted the pastry bag, squishing the icing to toward the tip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to pipe without his hands shaking when Katniss was so close. Even the sight of her left shoulder tapering down to her small hand resting against the door frame made his heart flutter.

As usual, Gale did all of the talking during the trade, but as Peeta’s father shifted to exchange the bread for the squirrel, Peeta glanced up and caught Katniss staring right at him. He felt his pulse ratchet up to a post-sprint gallop as she held his gaze. When she looked away, he watched her cheeks darken with what must have been a blush under her olive skin. And then she and Gale were gone.

Peeta grabbed the garbage, making an excuse of needing to dump it in the bins in the back garden, though he needn’t have bothered, no one was paying attention to him anyway. He dropped the garbage bag and placed his hand directly over the spot where Katniss’s had been a moment ago, feeling for any vestiges of her warmth, certain that her touch must be seared into the wood. As he reached for the trash bag, his breath caught as he saw that one of Katniss’s gloves had fallen out of her hunting bag and was nearly hidden in the shadow of the stair.

He grabbed it, hurrying into the garden with his treasure. Standing with his back against the smooth bark of the apple tree, he examined the glove. There was a hole in the tip of of the index finger and he ran the rough wool along his lips, a thrill running through him as he imagined her soft fingers ghosting over his lips. His father’s call to hurry in to finish the cake startled Peeta into shoving the glove down the front of his pants. Needless to say, he frosted the remainder of Rooba’s son’s birthday cake with his raging hard on pressed between the workbench and the ghost of Katniss’s hand.

He slept with the glove under his pillow, waking frequently to grope for it and reassure himself that it was still there. Grateful that he had the following morning off, he planned to sleep in a bit. But before the sun had even considered rising, the sky barely shifting to a slightly lighter shade of darkness, it occurred to him that Katniss might need this glove. That even thought it was nearly summer, the wool might serve another protective purpose against something other than the cold. Without allowing himself to reconsider, he dressed as quickly and quietly as he could before creeping down the stairs and out the garden door.

While Peeta was intimately familiar with all manner of pre-dawn bakery endeavors, he had seldom been outside in the dark. And while he knew where the Seam was located, he’d never actually been to Katniss’s house. He knew that Katniss’s little sister had a goat and hoped that information would be enough to go on. He kept to side streets and shadows as he edged his way through town until the cobblestones gave way to the rutted dirt roads of the Seam. There was just enough moonlight for him to make out houses and he kept the impenetrably dark mass of the forest looming up to the west. Winding his way through the unfamiliar narrow pathways of the Seam, he stopped every 50 feet or so and listened. But it was actually the smell, a warm scent of bedstraw and livestock wafting over the acrid smell of coal smoke that permeated the early morning air. He followed his nose.

Once he’d found her house, he planned to leave the glove hanging over the porch railing where she would be sure to see it. But as he approached the porch, a candle flared to life just inside. Peeta stepped back into the shadows of an adjacent house when he saw her through the window. He’d imagined this scene a million times and couldn’t believe he had been given the gift of seeing her, illuminated by candlelight, moving about her home.

He watched her. Like he always had. But not like others did, or at least not for the same reason. They wanted something from her, wanted to possess a piece of her, consume her beauty like a decadent cake gobbled up in huge, messy bites. He just wanted to be beside her.

For as long as he could remember, his deepest wish had been to be on the same side of the door as her. Not for lecherous reasons, though he wasn’t immune to the lust she inspired, but sexual desire was not his chief motivation. It just boiled down to an overwhelming feeling that he belonged in there. With her.

Sometimes he actually felt resentful that she was so stunning, because that one fact, the geometry of her delicate features in such a pleasing arrangement, reduced his certainty that they belonged together to something common. But in his heart, he knew this was something more, something greater. Something true.

Seeing her like that stirred something in him. Stirred. Like a tsunami in a snow globe. More like it had twisted his soul into a new shape. This is where language failed him. He didn’t know words strong enough to accurately represent this certainty that they were meant to be together. Even more perplexing, it appeared that she did not understand this, did not know it in the same sure way he did. But acknowledging that this sentiment could be one sided sent this entire enterprise into stalker territory and it was too pure and magical for anything as coarse and mundane as stalking.

Realizing that the fact that he was pressed against her neighbor’s house watching her through the window was difficult to construe as anything other than stalking, he took a step forward to return her glove as he had intended. But just then, the candle winked out and Katniss appeared seconds later in the doorway. His breath caught as watched her move silently and swiftly across the road and into the meadow.

He looked up into sky, which moments ago had been a dark bowl flecked with stars, but had since lightened enough for him to see Katniss’s movement through the grass. He took a deep breath and plunged into the meadow in her wake.

By the time he saw her silhouette slip under the fence, he felt powerless against following her. He struggled under the fence and crawled about fifteen feet to a patch of thick underbrush. He was outside the fence. He was sweating profusely and his heart felt like it was trying to jackhammer it’s way out of his chest. Glancing around wildly, he realized with a blinding flash of panic that he had lost Katniss. He could see the fence in the early dawn light and was just about to crawl back to it when he heard a small scraping noise up to the left.

He had seconds to decide whether to retreat home like the coward he was or find the courage to follow her into the unknown. He knew Katniss could never be with a man who didn’t possess the bravery necessary to face the forest. He swallowed down the fear and hurtled himself into the world of nightmares.

He spent the next few hours with his blood fizzing with barely contained terror as he repeatedly lost her in the forest. He had thought that the sun rising would be his salvation, that once he could see the threats that surrounded him that he’d feel less frightened. But he quickly discovered that it never got light in the forest, just less dark with more shadows. When the fear of being lost and seconds away from being devoured by some rabid creature overwhelmed him, he’d hear a distant explosion of frantic wing beats or a dull thud of what he could only imagine was an arrow hitting wood and he’d stagger blindly towards it.

Despite that he’d never been so petrified in his life, he couldn’t deny that the world beyond the fence was magical. The enormity of the trees, the morning sun illuminating the leaves like stained glass, the air so crisp and clean that his lungs ached. The green was so vibrant he could smell it, some sort of ancient fragrance that simultaneously soothed and frightened him.

It had been ages since he last heard Katniss when he noticed he was shaking and there were little arcs of light obscuring the edges of his vision. He honestly had no idea how long he’d been in the forest, it was eerily timeless. He forced his mind to focus on the rays of light slanting through the trees at a steep angle and wildly guessed it must be just before or after noon. He hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since dinner the night before. He was starving and queasy at the same time.

Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, he forced himself to listen. He didn’t hear anything and was starting to panic in earnest again, when his addled brain deciphered a familiar sound, running water. His swollen tongue throbbed at the promise of something to drink and he followed the sound and gratefully noticed the transition of pine needles to mud under his feet as he stumbled towards it.

When the underbrush opened into a small pond fed by a trickling forest stream, he fell to his knees in relief. Cupping his shaking hands he gulped down about a gallon of water until his thirst abated. He rolled over into a patch of moss and scooched under an overhang of berry brambles. Despite the fact that he needed to be back at the bakery any minute and that he’d likely die out here, he gave into the security of the mossy den, cooler and softer than his sweetest dream of a bed, and drifted off.

When he awoke what felt like seconds later, he was on high alert, instinct forcing him into complete stillness while his senses took inventory. There was a small splash to his right and he rolled carefully onto his stomach and scanned the pond. And there she was, floating on her back in the pond like a wood nymph. He dug his fingers into the ground and he blinked several times to clear his vision in a bid to convince himself this was real. He was just about to call out to her when she flipped over and dove under water, the long expanse of her bare legs trailing behind her. He swallowed hard and glanced over to see her pants and the leather jacket she always wore hanging over a nearby rock.

He watched in helpless indecision as she emerged from under the water surface and pulled herself up on the mossy bank. She was wearing a sodden undershirt and dripping pair of underwear that, despite their drab color, stood out starkly against her olive skin and left little to his rampant imagination. He couldn’t help noticing the dark ring of her areola through the translucent fabric.

His eyes traced the column of her slender leg up to the slight swell of her ass, he watched in awe as she leaned down and slid the wet fabric off over her left, then right foot before standing and whipping the wet undershirt over her head. He swallowed thickly as he watched a naked Katniss Everdeen squeeze out and lay her underwear over the same boulder that held her pants.

She wrung out her dripping mass of dark hair before walking over to a patch of moss illuminated by an ethereal sunbeam breaking through the canopy. She laid down no more than fifteen feet from his warren, a mosaic of leaf shade dappled with sunlight shimmered across her body.

He felt lightheaded as he took in the dangerously erotic sight of the expanse of her gorgeous body glittering with water droplets like diamond facets in the sun. He tried to break her into sections to dull the impact of his wildest fantasy appearing like a gift before him. He took in the small swells of her breasts tipped with dark rose-colored peaks. He watched the droplets run down the gentle slope of her stomach to pool in her navel.

He knew he should be ashamed, that watching her like this was a violation. But she looked so natural, so perfectly right laying naked and glowing in the forest like the woodland faeries he’d read about as a child. Maybe it was just the all-encompassing awe in the face of her beauty, but he couldn’t seem to muster any shame. She was a living piece of art.

Just when he began to suspect she’d fallen asleep, she reached up and scratched her neck. He was transfixed by the way the movement of her arm caused a slight bounce of her breasts. He watched in dry-mouthed astonishment as she ran her finger tips down over the gentle swell, bringing her other hand up to palm her other breast.

She ran her fingers around her nipples until they were as stiff as raspberry gumdrops and just as mouthwatering. Swallowing hard, he followed her left hand as slid down her slightly concave stomach to push between her legs, one knee falling to the side to make room for the circular movement of her fingertips.

With a mix of trepidation and wonderment, he realized what was happening. His cock, already rock hard, had apparently figured it out before his brain. One of his wildest fantasies was playing out before his eyes. As if his desire had been so fervent, so potent, he had brought this magical dream into reality. Or maybe he was still dreaming and he’d wake up with a wet spot decorating the front of his pants. He decided not to care, refocusing his attention on the exquisite impossibility of seeing Katniss pleasure herself.

Her breathing had accelerated, her lips were slightly parted as the speed of her fingers increased. He’d never been so aroused in his life, which given his lush inner landscape, was saying something. When Katniss pulled her other leg up allowing her knees to butterfly out to the sides and her back to arch off the ground, he couldn’t stop his body from rocking forward. The give of the groundcover and soft soil allowed the tip of his dick to slide out of the waistband of his pants. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from groaning at the sensation of the soft, cool moss replacing the feel of rough fabric on his aching cock. He could already feel his body straining to come, but he refused to allow his own need to cause him to miss even a second of this. So he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes to center himself.

The breeze shifted and he caught the scent of her. His eyes shot open and for one dizzying second every muscle in this body clenched in an animalistic need to possess her, to bury himself in the body of the girl he wanted more than anything. He wanted nothing more than to find a home in the cradle of her strong thighs, his head pillowed on her sporadically clenching stomach. To close his eyes and rest there forever against the warmth of her skin.

He pressed his flaming face in the fallen leaves and took slow deep breaths of the damp earth to steady himself. As desperate as he was for this to never end, his heart was beating so frantically that feared it might give out. She was driving him to the brink of sanity.

The small sound of Katniss’s gasp whipped his head up. Blinking away the tears swimming in his eyes, he watched her legs tremble, her feet planted and her stomach clenching hard, the gentle circling of her fingers having given way to frantic rubbing.

He fixed every detail in his mind, her long toes digging into the soft ground, the mole just below her right breast, the ropy strands of her midnight hair fanned out around her head, the dark flush of her chest and the graceful arch of her neck. It was the most staggeringly beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

When her pleasure peaked, he was staring at her mouth, the glistening red of her parted lips. His body was strung tighter than a bow string, and her couldn’t take his eyes off of her. If he hadn’t seen it in addition to hearing it, he never would have believed it. As she came, she gasped one magical word: “Peeta.” The hoarse, whispered cry sent him careening over the edge, like his name on her lips commanded his body’s pleasure. He surged forward, digging his fingers into the soil as he rocked with the force of his orgasm. His chest heaved with the effort to stay silent, his entire body quaking with bliss.

As he came back to himself, he watched Katniss collapse in a boneless puddle, her delicate nostrils flaring with her ragged breaths. In that moment, he wanted her more than he thought possible. His chest cracked opened with the need to lose himself in her endless gray eyes, to gently caress her face, to lace his fingers through hers. He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted to belong to her in that moment.

But as usual, she didn’t even know he was there.

Katniss got up and crouched by the pond. She rinsed her hands and splashed a handful of water to rinse between her legs. For a second, Peeta swore she looked right at him, his heart leapt to his throat. Instead she stood abruptly, glanced over her shoulder and strode quickly to the rock and began to dress in her damp clothes. Each piece of fabric that stole a piece of skin from his vision was a travesty (a knife in his heart). He was losing her piece by piece.

Turning to pick up her hunting bag and bow which had been tucked behind the far side of the rock out of his line of sight, Katniss took one last look around the clearing before cinching her satchel over her shoulder and silently disappearing into the forest.

Peeta tentatively placed his palm on the softly undulating surface of the pond, trying to feel the ghost of a connection through the waves that she had set in motion. Even though a voice in his head was screaming at him to follow Katniss out of forest, he knew that if she discovered him, she would consider his voyeurism, however accidental, a violation. He’d sooner be eaten by bears than inspire any semblance of shame or embarrassment in her mercury eyes.

He stood, swaying slightly from lightheadedness, unsure if it was from hunger or emotional exhaustion. He tucked himself back into his pants and rinsed the soiled hem of his shirt before setting off for home. Somehow, he found his way back to the fence line in what seemed like about half the time.

Walking across the meadow, Peeta felt like a different person. The gnawing hunger and shimmery exhaustion couldn’t touch him. Even the promise of his mother’s fury at him for arriving so late for his afternoon shift rolled off his mind like rain from an oil cloth. With those two breathy syllables, Katniss had reordered Peeta’s world. If she had thought of him in a moment like that, even by accident, there was hope for the future he’d always dreamt of.

Pulling her glove from deep within his pocket, he couldn’t believe it had only been a handful of hours since he’d left his bed to return it to her. For one brief moment, he held her glove like he was holding her hand, then he placed it on the top step of her porch and turned towards the bakery.

Peeta could feel his certainty retreating with every step he took toward town. He summoned the echo of her soft cry of his name like a revelation. He knew that whatever came next he would follow Katniss Everdeen anywhere, no matter where fate led them, they would go there together if she would allow it.

[ninjagoruinedmylife]

Ninjago shadowhunters au: chapter 1

Hiiiii and welcome to my kitchen have here first chapter of my veeeery long fic for au i made a few days ago. I hope you'll enjoy! *** Lloyd Garmadon had currently only three problems: lack of money for comics, math and his best friend Brad. Not that he was complaining, though; his mother taught him that he should always look at the bright side of life. There were so many people with such bad things happening to them all the time, like Nelson, second one of his two friends: he constantly had problems with health. Or Gene, the other boy from his school: his parents were putting a big presure over him, to the point where they had big arguments. And even Brad: there were moments when he didn't got money for even the most basic products. Garmadon's little family, consisting of Lloyd and his mother, was in much better situation. Misako's salary wasn't the biggest one (she worked as a toruist guide in the museum, after all), her husband died in the war, they were living in a little apartament in one of the poor parts of the city... Still, they had each other. Lloyd was happy with his life in all honesty. He just couldn't help but also feel a bit irritated sometimes. Like today, when everything seemed to be against him. Math test was so hard that he won't get anything above F, he lost twenty dollars while chasing his bus, and now Brad just needed to get him to some kind of club he wanted to check out. "Hello, earth to Lloyd? Man, we're losing connection with you!" Brad tried to yell over the loud music from the building and bring his friend back to senses at the same time. Lloyd sighed. He was so tired of this day and just wanted to sleep. But well, friends are friends. "Tell me again, what did you promised me in exchange?" Boy asked while they were standing in a short queue to the entrance. "Uh, that I'll give you my collection of Spiderman comics?" "Okay, fair enough." Brad grinned evily. "As you might or might not remember, my collection consist of one volume..." "I hate you. It's not fair." Lloyd murmed, hiding his head in his hoodie. He looked up, at the bright purple neon sign hanging above the door. The letters formed a word 'Pandemonium'. "And what kind of name for a club is that one? I don't get why you wanted to come here so much..." "Come on, it will be fun! You need to socialize more." Brad replied. He grabbed his friend by his arm and pulled him through the entrance. "Just chill and breathe in the atmosphere." The only thing Lloyd could have breathed in when he walked inside was a cigarette smoke. He started coughing. Brad patted his back. When his throat finally started working normally, boys returned to exploring this place: Brad with an excitement written on his face, and Lloyd with a posture that was yelling "I don't care about this place or any of you." Music in the club was strange. It reminded music from radio, but in the same time it felt kinda different, more heavy and dark. This whole place smelled like a mix of two thousand botttles of cheap perfumes, sweat and alcohol. Lloyd looked at the people surrounding them. Most were dressed very party-ish, like a big percent teenagers would if they were going out, some were rather elegant, and the rest wore simple, casual clothes. Even though he wasn't so outstanding in his normal, green hoodie and black jeans, he felt so out of place that he wanted to dissapear. When it comes to dissapearing. Brad vanished while Lloyd stopped paying attention to him. At first, blonde boy had a nervous thought that something bad might have happened to his friend, but after a few seconds he saw his figure through the jumping, dancing people and calmed down. 'Great, now he left me. Such a good friend.' He walked to the other room. It was separated by the partition wall and, what's more important, it was less crowded and less noisy. Six tables were standing next to walls, vis á vis of the boy there was a pair of door with a sign saying "stuff only." A couple of guests were dancing at the shining dance floor, but most of them just talked, watched others or ate something. Pretty girl in a long silver dress and boy with a messy dark hair tried to convince some punks to dance, nerd in the corner was doing something on his laptop, two guys were glaring at each other like if they had an argument... Lloyd guessed he fit there, with all those weirdos, better than to the other part of the club. He decided that he'll wait here until Brad will get bored of dancing, and then they'll go home and watch some cartoons. However, he changed his mind when he saw a blade in the pretty girl's hand. *** This girl's name was Nya Smith and she was both frustrated and thrilled for a whole day, just as the rest of her team. Maybe a half hour before Lloyd Garmadon saw her in a little bit of not so fortunate situation, she sat next to the boy with a messy hair at the same table nerd had taken before. "For the God's sake, we're in this place for five hours and we haven't noticed nothing unusual!" Nya hissed to her brother, Kai. He shrugged. "Well, sensors are mostly right. And Zane is also mostly right." He winked at their friend, who was looking with a frown once at the monitor of his laptop, and then at the black object in his hand. "My apologies, but I really get strong demon vibes from this place. I wouldn't be suprised if it was the place of their meeting." Zane replied with his usual, serious tone. "Okay, Zane, I don't have anything against you." Girl sighned. "I'm just pissed of because I have to wear heels and makeup! You all know I hate it." "You're right, sis. Who decided that it has to be us again, anyway?" Kai neatened collar of his black suit. "Looking perfect all the time is tiring." "I understand, but in the same time you two are the most appealing from the whole team, when it comes to the terms of physical appearance, of course..." Zane started to explain. "Uh. One more time, please. I don't get your whole science talk after such a long mission." Kai interrupted him. "I guess Zane just said you're handsome, my gentleman!" Another guy who joined them said with a melodious voice. He had curly, brown hair, freckles and he was wearing clothes that were seemingly way to big for him. "And you, my gentleman, are spilling your drink over my favourite hoodie." His companion added while sitting next to him. "Hey, it is Zane's fault! He pulled my hand! I'm innocent!" Jay raised his hands in a defensive way. Cole gave him a deadly look. "You've spilled even more now. You are going to wash it..." "Calm down lovebirds, move those arguments for another time." Nya hit the table with her fist to get her teammates attention. "I guess we should think about the purpose of this mission. I'm not sure..." In this moment, a red necklace on girl's neck started shining. They all knew what it meant - beside Jay, as always. He was still spilling his drink. "Hm?" He gave the others suprised look. "Somebody died or what? Why are you so quiet now?" "Nobody died." Zane informed him calmly. "But it doesn't mean that someone can't die in the spin of few minutes!" Kai got up quickly. "Everyone on positions, now." When they were going back to their place, Jay asked Cole with a trembling voice: "Does it mean..." "Yes. The demon is coming." Cole answerd without a shade of fear on his face. "Get ready for your fourth one, newbie." *** It all happened so fast that Lloyd didn't know on what he should focus. First thing: nerd closed his laptop and left it on the table. He came to the stuff door, took a long white stick and then the door opened and he dissapeared in the darkness. Second thing: one of the punks, guy with a green mohawk and piercing all over his face, was having a slow dance with this suspicious girl - that was when her bracelet changed into some kind of a weapon. Third thing: two boys who probably had fight before, also walked into the stuff room. One of them granted a look to the guy in a suit, who was sitting at one of the tables with most of the punks. Fourth thing: girl grabbed punk's hand and, with a smirk on her face, she came to - suprise! - stuff room. It all looked... too well planned to be just a coincidence. Lloyd was sure that he should just go and talk to the guards that something strange is happening, but then fifth thing took place: punks started yelling at each other and jumping at each others throats. They were so loud that they nearly screamed over the music. Lloyd frowned. What was happening? He would be able to just find Brad and go out of the club, but in the same time... He had to find out what was this all about. His willingness to do so only grew when he saw boy with messy hair, sneaking out of the group. Lloyd tried to use all of his skills and followed him to the staff room. Luckily, he didn't locked the door, so boy as fragile as young Garmadon could have walked through the crack. He hid behind a tall shelf and started listening. "You didn't tought that it would be this easy, didn't ya?" "I-I don't know what are you talking about! What-" "You are fully aware of your situation, demon." "A demon? Do you mean... No! I'm normal, very normal!" "Don't try to fool around. We know who we are." The sound of taking out the weapons froze blood in Lloyd's veins. "Wait! I have... informations to sell! Many informations! About Garmadon! You want to know more about him, right?!" "Oh, can we shut him up already?" Boy's mind was working like crazy. Were those teenagers going to kill this poor person? Why would they? Personal damage? No, it didn't sounded like this. More like if they were a part of some kind of gang or cult... And, after all, what did it had to do with someone with the same surname as his? Lloyd was ready to get out and somehow stop them. He couldn't let this happen, dammit! If someone died next to him and he did nothing, he wouldn't forgive himself. "Wait!" He yelled, getting eyes of everyone in the room at him. When he looked at the scene that took place there, he had to take a step aside. Those guys were surely gonna kill someone - but this someone wasn't a human by any chance. More like a monster of some kind, like a wicked creature from one of his comics. It looked like a zombie now, but a zombie with claws, sharp, long teeth, tail and dead, black eyes. It took the moment of the shock its opponents were in and attacked. Someone screamed. Lloyd covered his eyes. He heard grinding of the blades, unhuman voice was yelling in a cracked tone, strange liquid flew at his hand - was it blood? - and then, after the explosion of the bright light and scream of a dying creature, it all ended. Lloyd took some unsure steps in a direction of the teenagers. Two of them were wounded, one was drawing something on their skins, girl was cleaning her blade... Boy in a suit looked at him. "Hm, guys? I think we have a little problem."

[in-the-gardens-of-inspiration]

Yo, so let me preface this: I used to watch the 2003 4kids TMNT when I was a kiddo, and I've also been watching TMNT2012, and I'm also pretty hype about Rise tbh, but it got me thinking about the weird rabbit-holey SI/reader being in a relationship with one or more or all of the bros- and like, made me think back to the one I wrote a few years back when I was sick. It also made me think of Raphael having the Hebrew version of his name instead of the Latin/Italian version, Raffaello, and of course because Angelology is its own dark rabbit hole of research, yeah, I was thinking about the archangels, the Hamato brothers and a SI/OFC. Also a bible-thumping, born-again bus seat neighbour.

Then I decided, I have to write this glorious mess.

(It's for 2012, 'cause I'm most familiar with that incarnation atm)

__

There's something crappily unlucky about getting stuck in New York City after 10:30 in what many, if not most people consider the bad part of town.

It was a reprieve at first, honestly, but after the first 10 minutes, it just was such a drag.

Want to know what happened? Well, the Greyhound broke down, and the driver couldn't fix it, so he called another bus to pick his passengers up, which would be coming. Eventually. Some time after 11:30. Wonderful.

Great. Well, I wasn't beside a born-again Christian Evangelist Bible-thumper trying to shove her brand of religion down my throat, so plus.

On the flipside, minus: I don't know NYC, like at all, I was daytripping. So I wandered off because I was rather sick of my benchmate, the Bible-thumper, and, haha, of course, got lost.

Now I've heard some shit about the Big Apple recently, and like, it's wacky. Ninjas? Aliens? Oh get real. That's a movie publicity stunt.

But ho boy, was I wrong.

So while I was wandering, trying to find my way back to the bus shelter, I hear footsteps approaching me, and like these suited Pod-people clones with these gnarly laser rifles are following me. My eyes go wide, 'cause holy shit, this is either a ballsy as fuck publicity stunt or I'm about to get murdered or worse by these plug fugly clone rejects, and to be honest, either choice sounds kinda shitty.

So I'm there, speed walking the FUCK outta there, when I hear whooping, jeering and clanking metal, I turn, lo and behold: ... Uh turtles...?

I blinked a couple times, nope. Not a stress-induced hallucination, okay, that's good? Yeah, a quick pinch to the arm also verified it wasn't a dream, because oww... And uh, my stare was being returned, and I barely withheld a squeak of startlement, with a no-doubt awkward look I gave my rescuers a smile-and-wave combo. And immediately regretted it.

Between one blink and the next the turtly-shaped anomalies, there were four of them, all around 5-ish feet tall. All sorta staring- like what happens when you stare too long at the abyss, it stares back.

"Um, hi..?" Mouth engaged before brain rebooted, great start. "Thanks for saving me from those creeps..." I think I nervous blabber, that's gotta be the only reason I'm still talkin'. "My name's Daphne, you, uh, fine fellas see a bus shelter 'round here? Think I got a little turned around.." Finally, my mouth ran out of words to spew out, and I was left to get a closer look at my rescuers. I mean, outside of 5-ish foot tall turtles.

Decked out in domino mask-like bandanas, the quartet made for a fairly imposing image, weapons adorning them and blank eyes. Fairly imposing at least until the shortest one, in the orange, spoke, baby blue eyes glittering at me. My mental image of my knights in tortoiseshell armour tarnished a bit,. "Whoa, bros, she's kinda pretty."

She's also right here, I snorted, taken aback, god he sounded like a teen- oh shit, could he actually be a teen? Huh, that's not something ya see everyday, teenage ninja mutant turtles.

The one with the red bandana smacked the one that had spoken upside the head. "Why don't you think before you speak?!" ... Okaay, that's, uh, new.

He spoke again, absolutely unfazed by the whimpering, teary-eyed stare he was receiving, "Bus shelters about five blocks that way." And he pointed in the direction I'd come from, ah nuts, I'm probably getting more lost in the seedy part of an already dangerous city, great. I smile at them a bit wanly, "NYC's got my internal compass a little on the buggered side, but eh, thanks for the directions." I move to push past them, when a blast of pink energy from a nearby alley slams into the pavement in front of me, and I leap back with a choked off curse.

The one in blue grimaces, and barks out, "Let's take care of these pests first, Mikey, Don, can you cover for..?" I'm assuming he's the leader, but it still startles me a bit when he looks at me amidst the blaster fire. Holy shit, my day's just become an episode of a comedy sci-fi anime.

So Blue told Orange, 'Mikey', and Purple, 'Don', to cover me, the civilian liability, yeah, fair, but I was planning on booking it back in the ensuing chaos, nuts. Right, he asked my name again, "Daphne."

"Sure thing Leo!" Next thing I know after Orange chirps that is the sound of a facepalm, ah, that sweet sound of exasperation. I see Blue grit his teeth, and Red poorly hold back a bark of laughter. Ah, I assume they were going for subtle and mysterious. They failed. Oh well.

I fished my phone from my hoodie pocket, 11 pm, oh good. I had time. I put my phone back and sat crosslegged on the ground, and propped my head up. Makes both less and more of a target, I'd wager, plus with all this cloak and dagger, haha, ninja b/s maybe I'll make my bus before they drive off and I have to find a hostel or something.

Again I find my mouth running off before my brain can process, "So... Come here often?" Of course I had to imbue as much sarcasm as I could, raising my voice so all four could hear me- probably not my best call, but I was tired and getting quite cranky. All but Blue were at least amused, Blue, eh, ya can't win 'em all. "So, eh, what are these pod people supposed to be anyway? Rejected robot clone Men In Black?"

I flinch as a silver robot with a smirking brain goes to reach for me, but man am I glad I took a a few years of various martial arts. With a spot of grace, and it beint close enough to use it's brain as a spring board, I do a back roll, and end up knocking into Purple on the get up. "Sorry man, didn't mean to, ugly over there caught me by surprise." He turns to see where I rolled from, and spots a KO'd 'droidy bastard. "That'd be ugly then?" Giving him a cheeky smirk, I humm, "Mmhm, that's him, warts and all!" I stretch, mutterjng to myself as I do, "Ah man, it's been a bit since I've done that..." The four of them by this point have have taken care of the robo-menaces, and Blue still looks extraordinarily unimpressed. Almost like what happened was my fault.

"What are you even doing out here so late? Most people aren't." My eye twitched, yeah, that was equal parts tiredness and irritation, "Like I said, New York buggers with my internal compass and I got turned around. I don't want to be a target for less-than-savoury people, so I learned a helpful tip, called look like you know what you're doing. I'm pretty fucking lost right know, so some help would be much appreciated. If you want incentive, I've got some artisan dark chocolate, and some low-sweetness white chocolate, that ok?"

Eventually, after 10 minutes of bickering, a bar of white chocolate lighter, I was able to get an 'escort'. Red who I found out was properly called Raphael, who was equal parts volunteered and voluntold to make sure I was able to see the bus shelter before buggering off. As I walked the last couple of blocks, an errant thought popped into my head. Raphael was classically an Archangel. There were classically, at least in bare-bones Christianity, four of them. Micheal, Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel. That- oh boy, did that give me an idea if that lady was gonna try and make me change my beliefs and spirituality.

Plot twist, or maybe not, my favourite person in the world decided to sit rihht beside me. Again. For the long ride homewards. I think she took my silence as license to gab. Oh joy.

Putting on my most awed, touched by God face, from the shadows of my hood, and the most dreamy voice I can manage I put my plan into being.

I flip my hood down, and turn to face her a little bit more, "You know," I cut her off mid-I'll-be-damned-if-I-don't-convert speech, "I think I was visited by the Archangels, you see, I got a little turned around, and I think they guided me back safely." She was gaping like a fish, "One of them even spoke to me," I continued blithely, "He introduced himself as Raphael. That's after they scared off a group of muggers." She looked like I slapped her with a particularly slimy fish, "I-I, bwuh?" Eloquent, lady, very eloquent. "They were so kind and helpful, I can't believe they appeared to this sinful daughter..." After a beat or two, "Miss are you okay?" The fanatical lady was still a bit BSoD, which was a-ok by me, so I flipped my hood back up, and went back to trying to sleep.

I didn't think much of the whole incident for a while, until my friend flipped me a vid of a radical upstate New York lady losing her shit upon being interviewed by a televangelist. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry. She was talking about me.

Not quite in so many words, of course, since she wasn't there for what actually happened, but she flipped out when the 'pastor' questioned the validity of her, by extension, my story, through my phone speakers I could hear the question being asked, 'how do you know she was sober?' and the lady just loosing it. I wheezed. What?

[batbxtxh]

Basically a scene from an American movie

Wow okay lmao sorry in advance for this but i was feeling Stan one upping big white fuck boy bill so yanno

Stenbrough

Sexual themes but its not quiiite NSFW

Stan walked into the booming house last, following his friends through the mass of teenagers swarmed inside the small place. Apparently someone’s parents had gone away and obviously that meant a party just had to have been had. 

Sure, Stan could be a bit uptight, and he liked things a certain way, but as he got further into his adolescence he enjoyed letting loose just as much as the next kid. Maybe even a tiny bit more. Stan would never admit to it out loud, but all his friends knew it, sometimes he just fucking loved alcohol. It enabled him to let out his sassy ass self without holding back and feeling self conscious about it.

Situations like this allowed him to loose his controlling thoughts and think of nothing for a while. That’s why as soon as they reached the kitchen, Stan poured himself a drink and chugged the majority of it straight away.

“Wayhey there Stanny boy, if you’re sick I am not cleaning it up” Richie laughed at his friend as he watched him finish his drink within 2 minutes of getting it

Stan only rolled his eyes in response, he was seasoned in the art of drinking and could drink most people his age under the table. “If i’m gonna be surrounded by these fucking idiots all night, i think i’m gonna need it” Stan shot back looking around the open space of the kitchen. Just because he could like parties, that didn’t mean he liked the people at them. There was an island in the middle and a dining table on the other side with a huge group of people way too invested in a game of beer pong

Stan stayed with his friends in the kitchen before everyone wandered off to explore the party, Richie rolled open the glass patio doors that led out into the garden and Stan heard loud cheers boom in suddenly, his gaze followed the loud shouting and he found himself following it and standing in the doorway.

There he found a rather tall guy being hoisted upside down in the air by three guys off the football team, another holding the hose of a keg in his mouth while a mass of onlookers all shouted in support of him, a chorus of “Go Bill”’s and “Chug chug chug!” while some girls were blatantly just fucking screaming. Stan found himself rolling his eyes at the scene, he felt like he was watching a shot from an american movie. “How original” Stan scoffed to himself.

He did however find his eyes roaming to the torso of the guy being held in the air, as his black t shirt had slipped down so it was covering most of his face and absolutely none of his chest, he by no means had a six pack but he definitely had something, his stomach was at least well toned from what he could tell and his chest had a sprinkling of dark hairs swirling across it, he could see dark brown hair poking out beneath his t shirt and Stan found himself unable to look away, his eyes glued to him 

From behind him in the house he heard Kendrick Lamar start to play, loudly enough he was sure you’d be able to hear it from the bottom of the street. He laughed to himself under his breath, he would fucking die before he let anyone find out he kinda liked this music, it was ONLY when he was drunk and in the mood for it though, and? He was three drinks in and starting the feel it

Stan watched on as the guy being held started to squirm and was lowered down to the ground and everyone stared to jump on him and scream, he watched as  Bev threw the cigarette she was sharing with Richie and ran over to give this Bill a fist bump, pushing other people out of the way to get to him. They must be friends? Stan thought to himself, although he’d never actually seen this guy before, he’d definitely remember if he had

As Stan got a better view of his face he smirked to himself, he was right. He was hot. Well that may be downplaying it a little bit, but you know, they guy looked like a God, whatever.

He found eyes looking back into his own snapping Stan out of his thoughts suddenly, and he saw Bill’s face turn up into a smirk of his own. Stan felt his chest tighten a little, Stan wasn’t stupid, he knew he was an attractive guy, but it still gave him mild butterflies whenever a guy looked at him like that.

He finished his drink as he watched Bill turn to Bev and he could make out him say the words “Who’s that?” And nodded towards Stan, still stood leaning against the doorway. He laughed to himself and finally walked back inside and filled up his cup again, and went off in search of his other friends, but not before taking just a little shot of vodka, just some liquid courage for later.

Stan found himself enjoying the party more than he usually does, and he put this down to Bill. He and Stan had been giving each other some lingering glances, some smirks and winks here and there and honestly Stan hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He knew exactly what Bill was doing, he knew the type of guy he was when he saw him back inside the house for the first time, a backwards snap back adorned his head. Bill was some goddamn fuck boy, and Stan was not gonna let him win. He was under no circumstances going to break first.

Stan was once again in the kitchen getting another drink when some of his friends came tumbling in, Richie spotted him and dragged Eddie over by the hand, Bev following closely behind. “So, Stan the man, you made a move on Big Bill yet?” Richie half slurred at him as Eddie laughed beneath him, shaking his head at his boyfriends clear inability to handle much alcohol

“Nope, and i won’t be the one making any moves” Stan smirked confidently at his friends

Bev cheered loudly at that, “Damn fucking right Stanny my boy, make him do all the work” she laughed and Stan just slowly nodded his head and gave her a wink

They remained in the kitchen for a small while longer Stan finishing his fifth drink, pouring yet another one, and demanding some more shots, which his friends happily obliged to before they moved to the living room where someone had brought lots of lasers and multi colored lights. There were many people already in there but not too many that they were all crammed in, so he could make out a tall body on the other side of the room, he knew it was Bill. Besides Richie, Bill was the tallest guy there and Richie was now sat curled up on a sofa at the side of the room with Eddie on his lap. 

Stan had way too much alcohol in his system at the moment in time to consider the possibility that he could not dance with Beverly? Like he didn’t actually have to? But also, yes?? He absolutely fucking had to

So there he was, dancing to Needed Me by Rihanna in the middle of the living room, completely unaware (okay so he obviously knew, he was pretending he didn’t) that he had captured someones attention and they could not keep their eyes off him, he continued sipping his drink and having such a laugh with Bev that he hardly even registered what song had come on next until he heard Bev’s screams of excitement  right down his fucking ear

He laughed with Beverly as he realized the song and he gave her a devilish smirk, before they heard shouting and a commotion behind them and turned to see everyone surrounding Bill and from what Stan had managed to make out from snippets of conversation he was pretending not to listen to and what Bev had briefly told him, his best friends Mike and Ben, who actually looked a lot less bro-ish Stan realised

Of fucking course this song was getting Bill fucking Denborough hyped with his friends, he managed to catch Bills dark eyes and he received a wink to which Stan rolled his eyes at and raised an eyebrow

Drake’s voice boomed out of the speaker and filled the room, closely followed followed by Bill’s deep but surprisingly not too bad voice, interrupted every so often by his own laughs,

“Thinkin’ out loud, I must have a quarter million on me right now, Hard to make a song ‘bout somethin’ other than the money, Two things i’m about is talkin’ blunt and stayin’ blunted, Pretty women are you here?”

Stan watched on shaking his head slightly and laughed as everyone cheered Bill on, as to be fair to him he was doing quite well as he rapped Drake’s verse, but he just didn’t have the flair some others had for it…

Bill laughed with his friends and then looked over at Stan with a proud smirk on his face as he finished his verse, clearly impressed with himself and Stan glanced at Bev and she had an excited look on her face as she grinned at Stan knowing exactly what was about to come

See, Stan had been subjected to screaming the lyrics to every Nicki Minaj, Rihanna and Lady Gaga song under the sun on car journeys with Bev and Richie and somewhere along the way, he had picked up the lyrics and actually started to secretly like it

He looked back to Bill and pulled his cup to his lips and downed the remainder of his drink before the next and arguably best verse of the song began, Stand never dropping eye contact as he and Bev began to sing the words along with Nicki perfectly,

“Thinkin’ out loud, I must have about a milli on me right now, And i ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that Lil Wayne record, I’m still the highest selling female rapper for the record”

Bill stared at Stan for the entirety of the verse, completely fucking shell shocked while everyone else in the room cheered him on, especially Richie and Eddie who were damn near screaming for him as he didn’t trip over a single word, no one other than his few friends had ever expected Stanley Uris of all people to be able to rap to Nicki Minaj but ??? Stan’s a bad bitch and can manage to out fuck boy the biggest fuck boy in the place, just for his own amusment

The second Stan finished he felt large arms snake around his waist and he turned to face Bill who towered over him even more than Stan had expected him to and it made him just a little bit weak at the knees, he looked up with a triumphant smile on his face for his victory, Bill broke first and made the first move, not something that happens every day

The third verse of the song started but neither of them were interested in staying for it. Stan let himself be dragged out the room and pushed again a wall in the hallway, Bill leaning down and colliding their lips together, heavy, wet and hot. Stan was revealing in the sensation and moaned lightly into the kiss making Bill smirk into him, but of course Stan noticed and as they had been doing all night, even this had to be a competition. 

Stan pulled his mouth away and Bill instantly attached to his neck, trailing wet kisses down towards his collar, nipping and biting at the section where his neck met his shoulder, surely leaving some marks. Stan was willing the bet his life on the fact Bill had never had to beg for it before, so that’s exactly what he was going to make him do, he smiled to himself at his plan and pushed on Bill’s chest lightly and looked up at him through his lashes 

“Is there somewhere more quiet we could go Billy?” Stan drawled out, looking at Bill with the most innocent eyes he could muster, and watched as Bill’s jaw clenched and his pupils blew and his eyes looked over Stan’s face and then down over his body

Stan felt himself actually having to suppress a blush creeping up his neck under Bill’s gaze, something he hadn’t done in a long long time. He smiled to himself as Bill pushed back and grabbed Stan’s smaller, daintier hand in his much larger one and took off down the hallway and up the stairs, both of them ignoring the hoots and shouts of the other party goers

Bill kicked open one of the bedrooms and all but threw Stan inside before he turned and locked the bedroom door, Stan stood in front of the large bed and slowly walked towards Bill, standing on his tiptoes and ghosting his lips over the others, but he kept pulling back just enough when Bill moved forwards before he then grabbed Bill’s hand and slowly tugged him towards the bed.

Bill allowed himself to be led over to the bed by the smaller boy, although he was slightly confused by what was happening, usually when he hooked up it was hot and heavy and over fast, it wasn’t like this, but Bill had sensed that there was something different about Stan all night, something he may have actually liked, he would’t tell him that though, Bill Denbrough had a reputation to uphold

Stan pushed Bill lightly to sit on the edge of the bed and climbed up onto his lap, a knee on each side of his waist and he brought his hands up and framed the other boy’s face, his right thumb coming down and brushing over Bill’s full baby pink lips, dragging the bottom one down slightly. Stan’s eyes followed the action, only flicking back up to meet Bill’s eyes again briefly before he lent back in and pressed his lips to Bills once again

Bills large hands instantly went to Stan’s waist as he kissed him passionately, his tongue sliding past Stan’s lips and licking into his mouth wet and hot making Stan groan at the feeling, melting into Bill’s touch

As their tongues explored each others mouths Stan’s hips began to rock lightly against Bill’s, giving them both some much needed friction. Bill used his hands to try and get Stan to grid down harder or faster, just something but Stan held his pace, slow and torturous and Bill pulled away from his mouth, out of breath and groaning he rested his forehead against Stan’s

Stan smirked to himself and he kept his hips moving, every so often he would add an extra hard dip of his hips, feeling how hard Bill was against himself spurring him on, he would hear Bill’s breath hitch in his throat every time

 “What’s up Billy? What do you want?” Stan asked him in a quiet breathy voice, lips right next to his ear as he’d grind his hips down particularly hard, and Stan had to stop himself from letting out a moan at the feeling, more and more heat pooling in Stan’s stomach and he was doubting whether or not he was going to be able to stop, Bill just felt so fucking good against him, holding him tight to his body like that

Bill had never been in this type of situation before, he’d always just been given what he’d wanted, he’d never had to ask before, but dear God he never wanted this to end

“Ugh, God, Fuck Stan you, I want you” Bill muttered out in between breaths, and he let out another strangled moan as Stan rolled his hips forwards this time, and placed his fingers under Bills chin and coaxed his head up, placing another long, slow, deep kiss on Bills swollen lips, before pulling back and looking into Bill’s eyes, Stan’s teeth took hold of his bottom lip and Bill’s eyes were drawn to it before he let out a another deep groan and leaned in to kiss him again but Stan pulled back and  quickly climbed off Bill’s lap

Bill looked at him in complete and utter confusion, “What are you? I thought we were? Where are you going?” he struggled to get out and Stan gave him a shy smile, 

“You really thought I’d let you fuck me into somebody else’s mattress? Not a chance Billy, I suppose you can call me though” Stan said and pulled his lip between his teeth again, he knew the type of guy Bill was, and if he wasn’t at least willing to call them to fuck him in his own bed, well that was his loss

Bill looked at Stan with an expression he couldn’t read for the first time all night, and after a little silence a smile edged its way onto his face, “Yeah um, i’ll call you” he said watching as Stan smiled the first genuine smile he’d see that night and reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with his number on it that he had prepared earlier after they’d made eye contact for the first time, for exactly this moment

Definitely not so he could make sure his exit was as extra as possible, without having to stop and find something to write his number on

Stan closed the space between them one last time, handing Bill the piece of paper and leaning down to give Bill another deep kiss, before pulling away and walking straight out the bedroom door, not looking back, closing it behind him with a quiet ‘click’

Bill held the paper tightly in his hand before let out a chuckle, letting himself flop back on the bed, lifting his hands to rub over his face and he let out a quiet, “I’m so fucked”

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