#i think i may be chasing that first 'rounding the bases' high

[more-better-words]

I find myself weirdly compelled to keep writing spicy stuff, despite it not getting nearly the same interaction as the non-spicy. I don't know what's wrong with me.

[jeannereames]

As Alexander conquered more territories, he seems to have widened his list of royal titles. So, aside from being king of Macedon, he also became pharaoh of Egypt and king/emperor of Persia (king of kings? King of Asia?). Did Alexander actually invest himself with these titles in any official capacity?

Also, based on his adoption of titles (or not), should we see Alexander's vast dominions as one articulated empire, as in, everything was kingdom of Macedon, or should we understand his domains more in the basis of a “personal union” of many countries united under the same monarch?

How Alexander understood his new empire is unclear, in part because he seemed to be figuring it out as he went. Also, because he’d made a second round of changes in the spring/summer of 324 BCE, after he’d returned from India, but these may not have been entirely done before Hephaistion died—then Alexander himself. (The first set of changes were the summer/fall of 330.)

I think it safe to say he saw it all as far beyond “Greater Macedon,” based on his modifications, starting with the spring Susa weddings (top Macedonian officers to Persian noblewomen). Then in the summer, while he was in Opis, he reorganized the army (again), including the introduction of a Persian unit of Companion Cavalry, as well as the 30,000 “Epigoni,” the young Persian (aristocratic) boys who’d been trained in the use of the Macedonian sarissa. This SO incensed the rank-and-file, it caused the infamous mutiny (together with the dismissal of older and disabled veterans). His formal court appearances also began to feature not only Macedonian guards (Hypaspists), but also Persian, albeit in separate units. This general period may also be when he formally appointed Hephaistion Chilliarch.

As for titles, as far back as 330, he began styling himself “King of Asia”—which wasn’t the title traditionally employed by Achaemenids: Kshayathia Kshayathiyanam (Xšāyaθiya Xšāyaθiyānām), “Great King” or “King of Kings,” Shahanshah in Middle Persian. He knew the title perfectly well, so it was a clear choice not to use it, and nothing in our sources suggest he went through the traditional enthronement for Persians kings … nor for the Egyptian pharaoh, either. There’s been some debate about the latter, but these days, I believe the majority opinion is that he simply wasn’t in Memphis long enough. He was in a hurry to chase Darius.

IMO, too much significance is given to his time in Egypt, his claim to Ammon’s sonship notwithstanding. It’s not that Egypt wasn’t important, but it later gained a disproportionate prominence due to hindsight. I do think he had high goals for Egyptian Alexandria, especially for trade (he knew a good port when he saw one), but I’d say he had an equal intention to elevate Babylon. One was a completely new city, the other, the heart of old Mesopotamia … but long enough outside the seat of power that he could return it to that status without appearing to sit in the shadow of the Achaemenids.

So he was trying to create something new, but with enough ties to prior kingships that it wouldn’t offend. Recall that in the ancient world, “new” was not a virtue. Today, the “fresh, new” approach is sought after, but back then, tried and proved and traditional was preferred.

[savebatsfromscratch]

A Few Too Many Leagues Under

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42287670

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Summary: Gray is training with Takiza, but it hurts a bit more than it probably should.

-

Notes: Gray angst,,,. Yes I’m basic. Yes I hate Takiza. Of course I’m going to put Shark Wars in the Whumptober series, that would be hilarious.  

I’m vaguely uncomfortable with writing torture so I took the theme and general torture idea and used that as inspiration.   

Also, don’t ask how I saw ‘waterboarding’ and immediately wanted a fic about sharks. I don’t know either. 

Shar-kata is the magical powers that exist in Shark Wars by the way, if you weren’t familiar. (They insist it’s not magic but yes it is.)

Cws and Tws: Light torture, self doubt, insults based on weight, unhealthy student teacher relationship (not in a ship way though lol, I’m not brave enough to write that yet.)

Words: 836

Prompt: POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS | Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding

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Chapter text (under the cut):

Gray felt his fins shaking as he strained his Shar-kata powers. He knew that Takiza was pushing him far too hard, but the way the little betta fish twirled so effortlessly, his fins wavering like the prettiest greenie, made something in the back of Gray’s mind wonder if he was not quite enough. He struggled with the boulder, faltering and slowing in the current as the speed bonus of his magic flickered out. 

He knew that if he let his belly touch the ground, or if he lost control and smashed into the coral spires that rose up on all sides, Takiza would punish him. He could already hear his taunting voice in his mind, tsk tsking as he effortlessly changed the current to spin Gray around and around and around. Gray strained once more, barely avoiding the giant arms of a particularly huge coral spire as the boulder dragged him closer and closer to the sand.

He couldn’t restart his Shar-kata speed now, not now that all of his focus was going into getting as far as possible. Takiza, still at his side despite his tiny frilly fins, seemed emotionless, gliding like nothing wrong was happening as he forced a much younger fin to suffer as ‘training’.

Yes, Gray was a megalodon, and Takiza was a betta fish, but this really was much too large of a boulder for even a megalodon like Gray to carry. (And, as he was dragged towards the seabed, he wondered if Takiza was doing it on purpose.)

But the chase was over. As the boulder tapped against the ground, sinking a urchin spine into the sand and holding Gray in place, sand bloomed up and into his gills. Just as expected, Takiza twirled into his view, his multicolored fins a ‘red flag’ wavering in the current. 

“What do you think you are?” Takiza said, his voice deprived of humor as he used his Shar-kata to untie the greenie from Gray, releasing the boulder into the sand, “A pup on its first hunting trip?” 

Gray gnashed his teeth together in anger, but he fought to suppress it, knowing that Takiza would punish him even more if he fought back. “Well no, I-” he started, but was quickly cut off by a high pitched tsk tsk tsk from Takiza.

“It doesn’t matter what you think you are,” Takiza said, circling Gray as he began to twirl the current around them, kicking up sand and small stones to pelt Gray with, “You are so utterly useless as a student that you may as well be a tuna!” he swam a bit closer to gray and tapped his stomach with a fin, “Fitting, given that you seem to like them so much.”

Immediately, the insult shocked him. (And the small stone hitting him square in the gills didn’t help matters.) Gray was accustomed to being insulted for his weight by sharks that thought he was just another great white (if he was he would be rather large), but Takiza knew that he was a megalodon. He knew that there was no way to change how thick his tail was, or how round his belly was. It was just the way that such sharks were built!

But the insult also hurt. Gray found himself beginning to rotate slightly and he fought to regain control. He had trouble not taking such things to heart, not when it had been hammered into him for so long that it was true, even when it wasn’t.

Takiza tsk tsk tsked again and he sped up the current slightly, causing Gray to tilt onto his side. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you could just do your assignment,” Takiza said, as if such a punishment made any sense in the first place, “It’s just a couple hundred tail strokes,” he said, emphasizing ‘hundred’ by flipping Gray upside down for a moment, “Lochlan had no trouble with it.”

Gray couldn’t fight back as Takiza began to roll him over and over again, but by Tyro did he want to just… eat the little monster. Yes, it was wrong to eat sentient creatures (especially sentient creatures who could kill you from the inside), but he was willing to make an exception just this once.

He was so dizzy, and the constant spinning made it hard to breathe (and even harder to see). But Takiza did it anyway. Tortured his ‘dumber’ students just because he could. Used punishments rather than positive reinforcement for what reason? Because he found it easier? Gray bit back a scream. 

The worst part of all of this was that it was required. He needed to be enduring this, for the sake of the whole Big Blue! It wasn’t fair! Why couldn’t some other shark do this?! Clearly there were plenty of sharks more fit to the job, if the mysterious “Lochlan” was any indication, so why couldn’t they do this? Why couldn’t anyone but Gray do this? 

So, still spinning, he let his body go limp.

End of chapter notes: I hope y'all like Shark Wars because there's more coming.

[crossroadsdimension]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 23

Prompt - On Cloud Nine

(FFXIVWrite 2024 Masterpost)

(ARR, post-base game, early patches. No patch content mentioned)

“Keep them off his back! Move move move!”

“Get that lancer! Don’t let him — shite! Run!”

The whistling noise of something flying through the air made the Maelstrom soldier — a roegadyn — wince and instinctively raise his hands to his ears in preparation for a cannon ball hitting its target. The expected explosion never came, however, and he lowered his hands with a grumbled curse to hide his embarrassment. “Godsdamned adventurers and their techniques.”

“I believe it’s one in particular you’re complaining about, Standing Mount.” The Adders soldier with him — a relatively younger hyur — pointed down from the cliff they were standing on. “Wol is at it again, it seems.”

The Immortal Flames soldier — a lalafell — chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not certain how he does it, to be wholly honest. First he brings the Garleans to their knees at the Praetorium, and now it comes out that he gained the trust of an Ishgardian and may very well be a Dragoon.”

The three of them were standing on one of the higher points of Seal Rock, well out of the way of the sanctioned fighting grounds where the adventurers were allowed to fight over the Allagan data they were siphoning out of the relics for the three city-states. As part of the planned war games, representatives were needed on stand-by, both to monitor the incoming stream of data to the Ironworks-given devices, but also to score how well the three small armies were doing against each other.

It just so happened that today, the leader of the Warriors of Hope was among the Immortal Flames, and everyone was quickly becoming aware of him.

Standing Mount whistled as Wol tore his way through Maelstrom adventurers below, arrows and spells barely missing him as he relied on his speed to dodge attacks. Watching the Warrior of Hope in battle wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d see. Operation Archon had spread the whole of the Grand Companies across Eorzea, which meant that many hadn’t been there to witness the fall of the Praetorium first-hand.

Watching Wol now, though—

Wol launched himself into the air, almost level with the three watching representatives.

Standing Mount thought he could see the flash of a grin before Wol launched himself back downwards and took out five Maelstrom soldiers at once. The whistling wind followed him, and now Standing Mount knew why he’d thought there was a cannon falling onto the battlefield somewhere.

The simple fact that Wol was moving fast enough to make the wind chase him said a great deal about his ability to move in the air. The shouts of alarm and pain as adventurers below took the brunt of his blows before they could scatter out of reach said a great deal more about the force behind his blows.

“He certainly seems to be enjoying himself,” Standing Mount said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an adventurer look quite that bloodthirsty.”

“It’s doing wonders for us, I’ll tell you that much!” The Flames soldier laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s riding a very impressive battle high.”

“That would explain why he’s been so difficult to knock off his feet,” the Adders soldier remarked. “I don’t believe I’ve seen him lose his footing even once today.”

“Come on! You call this a challenge?” someone shouted from down below. Standing Mount looked down to see Wol motioning for a couple adventurers to come at him. “I could do this all day!”

“How often has he been competing on the front lines?” the Adders soldier asked.

“Too much, from the sounds of it,” Standing Mount said.

The Flames soldier shook his head. “We have him limited to one round a day; otherwise he and his fellows would drain the coffers in the Wolves’ Den before anyone else would have a chance to win the currency in use there, much less use it.”

The Adders soldier whistled. “I’m not certain if I should be amazed or horrified. We’re lucky he didn’t join hands with the Garleans.”

“Very lucky,” Standing Mount agreed.

He watched Wol start to carve another path through his opponents — Adders this time, as the Maelstrom adventurers had fallen back to claim Allagan totems in their territory of Seal Rock, leaving the Flames and the Adders to compete over the active totems in the rocky central zone of the island. The man’s spear lashed out as he struck adventurer after adventurer. When some tried to strike back, another adventurer would leap in, axe gleaming, and catch all their attention with quick slashes of blades that left the attackers quickly shifting focus, or else they would be cut down by an axe blade before they could finish the troublesome dragoon.

Standing Mount frowned. He recognized that axe, and the figure wielding it. “I see Sophie has snuck in again.”

“I thought it was agreed that she was too young to compete on any of the battlefields?” The Adders soldiers sent the Flames soldier a flat look of disapproval.

The lalafell sighed and shrugged. “The girl has agreed to fight once a week instead of once a day. Otherwise, I am quite certain she would try to find a way to sneak onto our airships regardless.”

“Aye, she’s quite a stubborn one,” Standing Mount agreed. “She arrived in Limsa Lominsa, after all — we’ve seen her actions first-hand. Including all her attempts ta sign on with the Maelstrom.”

“Are all Warriors of Hope drawn to battle?” the Adders soldier asked. Standing Mount couldn’t help but agree with the frustration in the hyur’s voice. “I would like to think not, and yet….”

“They’ll have their fill eventually, I’m sure,” the Flames soldier said brightly. “I doubt that they could truly be bloodthirsty enough to continue this until all the data is fully drained from—”

A trio of loud horns unleashed thunderous calls from Seal Rock’s three bases, just as Wol jumped and landed again, taking out another three opponents.

“It seems the data has been collected!” the Flames soldier said with delight. He reached for the linkpearl in his ear. “Sir?” A grin spread across his face. “Yes, sir!”

“I take it the Immortal Flames have won yet again?” Standing Mount asked.

“That would seem to be the case!”

“One of these days, they are going to end up on our side of the battlefield,” the Adders soldier said seriously. “And then we will be the ones to win.”

“One of these days certainly.” The lalafell nodded to the hyur. “But not this day! Standing Mount, would you do the honors?”

“Aye, aye,” Standing Mount grumbled back. He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed across the isle. “The Immortal Flames have it! Pack up an’ gerrof the island so’s the totems can recharge for the next bout!”

“Woo-hoo!” Down below, Sophie raised her axe in triumph, while Wol leaned against his spear with a wide grin on his face. “Maybe I’ve got enough medals for one of those cool-looking axes now!”

“Maybe,” Wol said. “Only one way to find out.”

[thedarkmistress16]

My pitch for a future Sims game (5, 6, whatever) that is a proper sequel to 3 but better

or, what sims 4 should have done logically, if I want to be petty about it this is a long ride buckle the fuck in

Simply take what 3 did for base game and condense it a bit, but add more mechanics in other areas for a more well-rounded base game that is a clear love letter to Sims 3, with a focus on the optimization of gameplay.

Talkin' open world, but keep it mostly the same. Have decent gameplay for babies and toddlers, alongside pools, hot tubs, and other basic things that sims 4 did not include on launch but every other Sims game beforehand did in THEIR base (yes I will always hold this against them).

Include seasons, pets, occult sims (aliens, ghosts, zombies, and vampires), a very vanilla high school and community college system, and one vacation/travel lot AT LEAST. Have these features with extremely basic systems that work fine as is, and leave the more in-depth features for future expansions that justify the price point. Do not replace those systems upon said expansion, but rather build upon them further in a meaningful way and add new features that complement the pack's focus.

Example: Make an education pack that focuses on not just including forms of higher degree types like masters, doctorates, and certifications with an importance for major and minor declaration for a new university world, but also creating a preschool and/or kindergarten system, and a middle/junior school one. Maybe have them act as rabbit holes that family members or guardians need to drop the youngins at and have them learn additional skills, make friends, or improve their mood while they're there like a regular, older Sim does at school. Maybe the kids can bring things for a "show and tell" assignment one day and bring home pictures they've drawn or a toy they've swiped on others (for the klepto enthusiasts). Have public and private schools (elementary and up) differ in discipline methods, event messages, and usage of uniforms. Also include a homeschooling option and, in general, have the institutions declare a "wacky hat day" or "wear this color day" to just make things more lively.

For careers, let Sims have internships either offered by an institution they attend or the career path/field they're in or apply for. Varieties on payment, scheduling, and location can make each field's internship more diverse, especially so when based around the current Sim applicant's qualifications of skill level, income, scheduling, and traits. Would be neat to have jobs that may ask a Sim to relocate, not unlike WA's traveling opportunities. Thinking for Fashion, Business, and Reviewer careers to name a few.

Have birds and rabbits behave like cats and dogs mainly do now for pet expansions- to have four main and common household pet options (instead of two or three) that have the ability to be trained and interacted with more in general (I understand horses may not be included ever again and I love them in 3 but I am fine with not having them here despite that horses are fucking great-). Depending on the pet's personality traits, they can react very differently to other animal species in the same household, such as giving a cat a predator trait living with a bird and causing the feline to act more hostile and aggressively toward said bird when in close proximity. Maybe have traits that pit cats and dogs against each other as well, such as dogs having a moodlet to "chase a cat up a tree" or something to that effect. Even further, perhaps include special traits like Sims 4's aspiration traits in CAS but for specific breeds in this Sims 3 sequel like a history of hunters or intelligence or show business. And if creating a custom breed of animal, you have the freedom to choose that special trait for yourself and start a new breed heritage of that pet.

STORY MODE. You're a liar if you don't miss the hell and chaos that is playing through the first Sims games like Sims 1, Bustin Out, Urbz, 2, and Sims 2 Castaway on console and the Sims 2 Stories and Sims Medieval on PC. Simply having the option for story mode makes a Sims game feel more robust and complete, giving players more to do after fucking around in freeplay for a while or are lost amiss the abundance of features at their disposal. Catching a robber then unlocking their career was so fucking cool. Traveling to various lots and getting to know existing Sim relationships, personal journeys, and plights helps get the creative juices flowing for freeplay, too. Trying to juggle a job, numerous relationships, skills, and needs was fucking hell in early Sim game story modes (without cheats. otherwise, what's the point?), but so fucking rewarding when you do complete it. Bonus points for including Sim family mainstays like the Landgrabbs or Goths, even for a small cameo.

Bring back the color wheel OR use a single color for each channel and edit that with tone/saturation/transparency sliders. THERE IS NO ACCEPTABLE IN-BETWEEN HERE SO GET THOSE DEMON SWATCHES OUT OF MY FACE (wheel for pet CAS, swatches and sliders for CAS but only swatches for build/buy mode? wtf EA pick one. no wonder S4 is such a nightmare).

Please for the love of everything make an Island Paradise pack work with the hotels, scuba diving, and mermaids with better houseboat placement and optimization. Bonus fun thing: Add some Atlantis or any lost underwater city lore for high-level divers to find in the most dangerous diving locations. maybe have them swim into a pocket of water filled with ancient relics or creatures that existed years ago like narwhales or make llama/unicorn seahorses, i dunno. Maybe a nod to the lore in Sims 2 Castaway or Sims 2 Castaway Stories. Something fun and ocean-themed to add onto the fun of exploring in the pack. And adding more lore never hurts.

For Sim birthdays, let's make their likes and dislikes, and favorite things they enjoy have more meaning than just a description in their bio or briefly mentioned in the message/notif box during convos. Have a variety of different cake flavors, colors, and candle toppers to choose from, as well as decorate the home with streamers, balloons, and banners. Have these be various color schemes and designs, but also of themes like royalty, galaxy, dinos, gaming, mythical creatures/magic, aliens, wild west, carnival, pirates, superhero, underwater, vehicles, gothic, seasons, holidays (for the "my birthday lands next to/on a holiday" peeps), and some sim mascots like freezer bunny and tragic clown, to name a few. Have Sims be able to pick their favorite and disliked or hated things, either discovered through gameplay or chosen in CAS. And have objects that are meant to be gifted to the birthday Sim have choices in wrapping color, designs, and extravagance (simple. plain wrapping, themed, with all the bells and whistles). Have the option to gift coupons and gift cards too, lol. This would give players the opportunity to make each birthday of a Sim be either their best day ever, surrounded by their favorite things and feeling loved, or the absolute worst one of their lives and planned utterly and completely wrong (having an upset or angry moodlet, depending on their traits). Even if there's little to sparse decorating or the cake is the only thing they like, they can still have a tiny moodlet boost for the ones that don't like big celebrations on their birthday but can still get something nice out of it. Grant them a greater moodlet bonus when they partake in things they enjoy or hate doing on their birthday (in Sims 3 terms, like an additional +5 or +10 increase to a base reaction to something they already like doing or hate, such as enjoying being alone even more than normal or hating the outdoors would worsen their mood when they stay outside longer that day). If too robust to code, acceptable to make into a pack that expands upon families or as a smaller pack with just this birthday mechanic in place as the selling point but a basic likes and dislikes system in place for base game. Birthdays functioning akin to a Sims 2 PC event or as a candle interaction with optional party set-up in Sims 3/4 would depend on the coding requirements.

Other Fun Packs to Include:

A Wild West/Cowboy/Native American expansion pack. I haven't seen this theme done since Sims 2 console and a bit of SIms 3 (but in Pets it's more ranch than anything) and I wanna see more of it. Give me a world with a dedicated museum, historical plots of land, a cheesy Indian-themed casino, some colonial aesthetics, and half-de-commissioned, worn railroad tracks placed somewhere in the map. Gives me an excuse to see a dumb Woody costume in there, too. Maybe add horses here! A southern style of architecture on the buildings and homes would be neat to see here, too.

Make a Superhero pack. Maybe combine it with an "Into the Future-esque" pack or something where a sim's genetics can be altered to have superpowers like increased strength = faster athletic/gymnastics skill build rate or crazier muscle definition. Or higher stamina = less energy depletion. Just simple things that the reward system does for achievements. Oh and not to mention the ability to fly, shapeshift, and control elements!!!?!!?? Like regular occult such as vampires already and have been doing for years?? How have superpowers not been a pack yet?!? (Movie Stuff doesn't count) Perhaps include a heroic and villainous progression system/tree that grants certain rewards when deeds of a good or bad alignment have been done, making evil and good trait Sims more important and possibly affecting the time stream as well if still merged with a time-jumping pack. By extension, throw in angels and demons as llamas because of the alignment scale PLUS the canon of Sims praying to or being derived from llama people will never NOT be the funniest Sim lore I have ever encountered and it would be really fun to see at like, high superhero levels a Sim can achieve. Would give a chance to poke at the player for being god or something too, like Medivial does. I want some actual Sim mutants in my game, not just cosmetic look-alikes, lol.

Have a Master Suite pack combined with Wicked Whims, lol. But seriously, give us more juicy, dramatic, and sweet interactions that Sims can do with others romantically like polygamy relationships, an escort career system, periods and ovulations, couple therapy sessions, more sex skills, etc. Let a Sim's orientation, sexuality, and preferences affect how other Sims engage with them like how compatible and incompatible traits react upon discovery, on top of including them in general. Let me see the chaos or harmony a Sim polycule will bring. Or an anime-inspired harem ripe with jealousy. Make the SIms adult again guys tf, lol.

Do a Fast Lane pack but INCLUDE A RACECAR DRIVER CAREER plus an auto mechanic/detailing/manufacturing, tow truck driver, and delivery driver (warehouse or fast food) careers and part-time jobs. Would or would not lead to Sims dying more race-wise but this franchise is all about wacky deaths so might as well (that was a wacky races reference btw). Damn hold up we've had helicopters and yachts for cutscenes and rabbit hole travel since Sims 1 and 2 and Urbz and Castaway and like, none after that? Fuck include skydivers, pilots, stewardesses, security detail, luggage carriers, flight instructors as job titles in the plane field, and actual airports while we're at it. Taxi to that airport and then rabbit hole to your destination. This could've easily been an expansion pack istg-

How about more rollercoasters? And water parks and carnivals and state fairs and big tops? Do a whole pack about this theme park aesthetic and give adrenaline junkie or fear of heights and from funnel cake to BBQ lover or sensitive stomach traits. How about being able to take pictures of little kids on the slow spinning rides for the family members and include the long wait time and rigged game negative moodlets and the worth the wait and exhilarating ride positive ones. Let Sims gorge on peanuts under the big top and see the elephants or have a clown completely ruin their day at the theme park because they have a hate clowns trait or a prior nightmare experience. Have their level of activeness-laziness and playfulness-seriousness affect how they react to riding a coaster of different twists, turns, loops, and speeds, if possible.

(Not a pack but an extension of the above with coasters used as an example:) Also include the possibility to die on a coaster or other event, or perhaps let certain memories stick with Sims like next to someone who died or survived a crash and have that prevent that sim from autonomously doing and refusing to go on any roller coaster again or a specific coaster/action forever or for a really long time, having that lessened with optional and continuous therapy sessions. Give my Sims traumatic experiences that block them from doing certain actions and, when cheated to do them or have their memory intensity lessened enough to do that action again, have a higher risk of actually having that fear come true, greatly decreasing the effect the memory has on them, or completely getting over their fear depending on the level of intensity the traumatic memory has on that Sim at that time, on top of personality traits like Un/Lucky and general world chance variables within the world's coding.

[miyagihawk]

“into it; chase atlantic (this song reminds me so much of hawk it’s ridiculous, it gives me spicy fanfic vibes and idk how spicy you write but if you were comfortable with spice then this would be perfect for that)”

ty for requesting!!!

into it | eli moskowitz/ hawk x fem reader 

warnings: explicit!!! 18+ content!!! pure filth and smut lol and swearing too, drug use

summary: based on “into it” by chase atlantic

this takes place in college :) also im quite innocent so if anything is wrong just know that ive never experienced anything in this lmao

The weather's only sunny when I'm under it

And I haven't really changed, yeah I'm just confident



You watched from the across the room as he inhaled the line of white powder, a hand plugging one side of his nose and another holding a rolled up dollar bill.

If someone told you three months ago that the nerdy Eli Moskowitz from your Chemistry class would be snorting a line at a party, adorning a dyed mohawk, you could’ve never even imagined it.

But here he was, and honestly you were really fucking into it.

These girls they come and go between my bedsheets

And I've been doing blue and causing big scenes, yeah

Hawk had a reputation of having a new girl every night; the gossip had been that he’s never called one back for round two. Some may call him a womanizer, but maybe that was what he wanted. Girls fell at his feet anyway, wanting to be part of his long list of one night stands.

The truth is, you’ve already spent a night with him.

It started with some shameless flirting and you already knew the direction it was headed. He asked you back to his place, and out of half curiosity half lust, you agreed.

And after that night, Hawk was all you could think about.

It could be because he was good. Really good. But maybe you also loved a challenge. Knowing it was a one time thing left you wanting more, so that was why you were here tonight.

You were going to be the first girl to be taken home by Hawk twice.

Pull up and I'm higher than the big trees, yeah

She don't really like it but she needs me, yeah

She saying she don't really miss me

But fuck it, now I'm faded after all things, yeah

You walked over to where he sat with his head leaned back, basking in the snow high. His intense eyes seemed to stare you down as you approached, and you thought you saw a twinge of curiosity in them.

“Hawk,” you greeted, downing the rest of your liquor for some bravery.

“Y/N,” your name rolled off his tongue sweetly, and you internally cussed at yourself for feeling tingly already.

“I’ll sit here,” you said. You snuggled up close to him, and with one arm behind his head resting on the couch.

His eyebrow quirked at your closeness. “And what are you doing?”

You played with the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing a finger around his shoulder. He pretended not to notice and looked at you in amusement.

“I’m trying to get you to take me home with you,” you said bluntly. You blame the alcohol.

He chuckled at your straightforwardness. “Haven’t we had our time together?”

You imagined him running through a mental checklist of names, looking for yours, then seeing a line through it.

“I was hoping you forgot so we could do it again.”

Say she wanna fuck me later

Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it

Hawk tapped at his lip, fighting a smile. “Now how could I forget you.”

“So I’m memorable?” you said. You continued tracing his shoulder, before venturing up to his jawline. His eyes fluttered, and the reaction made you feel pleased.

“Of course, what if I told you that you were the best?” he professed, bringing heat to your cheeks.

“I’d think you were trying to flatter me.”

His blue dilated eyes scanned you for a second. “Is it working?”

You let out a laugh, “I’d say so.”

He smiled, genuinely, and you found yourself wanting to take a picture to keep forever.

“Well I’m not lying. You were the best. But that was just for me,” Hawk mused. For some reason, he seemed a bit nervous waiting for your reaction.

You found it hard to believe, but you let yourself be elated by what felt like the most meaningful compliment that could come from him.

“It was good,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “but we could do better. How about tonight?”

After a moment of silence between you both, the red haired boy broke into a fit of laughs. You watched in enjoyment at the way his whole body was in it, and how it was your doing.

He recovered, looking at you with a lingering hint of a smile. “You are just too smooth Y/L/N. Too smooth.”

“That sounded like a yes,” you leaned in closer.

To your delight, Hawk stood up with a hand reached out to you.

-

You two wasted no time, hungrily grasping at each other to remove articles of clothing.

He stopped the heavy make-out to look you up and down. Taking you in, he whistled playfully, before pushing you onto his bed with a hand wrapped around your throat.

You felt his tongue at your neck along with teeth, sure to make a mark for you to deal with the next day. You pulled him back up to your lips, slipping in your tongue to meet with his.

A moan escaped you as his hand massaged your breast and he squeezed your nipple, sending shivers through your entire body.

“Want me down there?” Hawk said into your mouth, and he took your shy smile as a green light.

His pretty lips trailed kisses down your chest, swirling his tongue around your nipple, then running his hands up and down your stomach.

He teased you with soft bites around your thighs, purposefully avoiding your sensitive heat. It made you antsier by the second.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you reached down to touch yourself. But he grabbed your wrist before you could ease the unbearable desire.“Patience, sweetheart.”

“Just do it already,” you groaned, reaching to push his head down towards the spot you wanted.

He chuckled at your urgency, but finally gave in to your plead.

Hawk placed his tongue flat on your clit, sending electric pulses throughout your body. You moaned his name, making him harder than he already was.

“So wet. Did I do this?” he smirked up at you, before returning to your heat.

He lapped at your walls, pressing down on your clit with his thumb. You writhed in pleasure, making him have to steady your hipbone with his other hand.

He added a finger into your pussy, and it eased in with your wetness. Meanwhile, his tongue played with your sensitive bud and he added in another finger. You felt your high coming in as he curled up his fingers to meet your G spot.

“I’m- I’m almost-“ you breathed, suddenly feeling the overwhelming build up as Hawk’s fingers thrusted into you harder and his mouth moved faster.

He wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you still as you reached your high, and his tongue showed no mercy while you twitched in pleasure. As you rode it out, he placed soft kisses on your thighs, before moving up to put his lips on yours. “Good girl.”

“I think you need some help there,” you looked down at his swollen cock, pressing against his stomach pitifully.

“It hurts,” Hawk pouted, making you giggle.

You pushed him on his back and kneeled on your legs. You admired how defined his jawline looked from your view and you ran your hands up and down his sculpted abs.

He watched you with lustful eyes as you pressed a light kiss to his length. “Hey, no teasing.”

“Consider this karma,” you batted your eyelashes up at him.

With the tip of your tongue, you lightly trailed up his dick, leaving a little swirl at the top. He twitched, and a bead of pre cum dripped out of his tip.

You continued your teasing, feeling a warm ache in your belly at the way he grew frustrated.

When it seemed like he was at point of yelling at you, you took him into your mouth. He cursed in pleasure at the sight of your pink lips around him, bobbing up and down so slowly. You felt his fingers tangle up in your hair, tugging gently.

Suddenly you picked up your speed, and you watched his eyes struggle to remain open to watch your every move. “Fuck, Y/N,” Hawk groaned, pulling at your roots harder.

You hummed and the vibrations of your mouth ended him. Swallowing his cum, you felt wet at the sight of him undone in front of you. The tightening in your core longed for more. You gave his length one last kiss before licking up his body to meet his lips.

“God, you’re trying to kill me”, he said into your ear. You straddled his waist while laying on his chest and you felt him starting to get hard again underneath you. His hands went to your ass as you sucked at his neck; you hoped to give him a mark that matched yours.

You gasped when he suddenly moved your ass to make your core grind against his dick. The ridge of his tip brushing your clit caused your breath to hitch with excitement.

The rush impulsed you to take control and move his hands to your breasts. A hint of a smile took over his face when you rocked yourself on his shaft, up and down. He was fully erect again and you covered him in your slick wetness. Squeezing your breasts, you sighed in delight.

Then you took a pause, giving him a look that said, “Are you ready?”

“Go ahead princess,” Hawk said breathlessly, as he watched you position his dick at your entrance.

He loved to see you in control, the way your hands leaned on his stomach. The way your eyes rolled back as you took him in, so so deep. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Once he was all the way in, you stopped to let yourself adjust to his size and to bask in the feeling of his fullness.

Your breath picked up as you started to get into a rhythm of moving your hips. Hawk watched you carefully, using his thumb to massage your clit. When you clenched your walls around him, he let out a satisfying moan, which only made you pick up the pace.

He watched with low eyelids as you bounced on him and the view of your tits only pushed him further to the edge.

It felt so full and hot and so good. You knew your release was coming when the corners of your vision were turning black, and you knew he was also close from the twitching of his length inside you.

For the last few seconds, you went down hard, making the both of you curse in pleasure. You squeezed your walls around his cock at the end, sending you both into your second orgasms.

The warm feeling of his cum filled you and added to the haze of your release. You felt Hawk pull you to his chest where you felt the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.

You laid on him, his arms around your waist and his dick still deep in you. He kissed your hair sweetly, eliciting a satisfied smile from you.

“What did I tell you? The best,” his low voice spoke into your skin while he ran his finger through your strands.

You looked up at his face, and to his embarrassment he was starting to get hard again, just from the view of you innocently gazing at him through your eyelashes. An uncharacteristic blush spread across his freckled cheeks as you slyly smiled; you felt it.

“It was good… but we could do better,” you teased, mirroring your words from earlier.

Hawk traced your lip with his thumb, then tilted your chin up to slide his tongue into your mouth. “How about tomorrow night?”

-

a/n:

so… how are we doing… ahh i feel so dirty now but what did you guys think?!?! this is only my third time writing smut, i hope the pacing and descriptions are okay

also i literally wrote another hawk fic but i deleted it because im so stupid!!! it took me like 4 hours too :(

anyways im not sure if im back to writing, i was kind of just bored, but yall can send me requests! i can’t guarantee ill write it but if it’s something i feel like i can do a lot with then i will :)

tysm for reading!!! i love u, be kind, be happy

[bratkook]

sick entertainment. (m) kth

pairing. hitman!taehyung x hitman!reader genre. smut, pwp warnings. mentions of guns, slight depictions of violence/murder, they’re both hitmen please don’t read if whats mentioned is triggering, they make some dark jokes (they’re sick okay lmao) smut in forms of: oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, dirty talk but its all playful despite it all hehe word count. 6.3k note. this is a request based off #85 off this prompt list (now closed) thank you for sending this in! 🖤 also uh….this may become a series, in which case, consider this a saucy prologue that gives you a glimpse into tae/oc’s...interesting... relationship

The slamming of the door makes Taehyung cock his eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across his face as he mindlessly watches the television, his ears listening to the way your feet stomp on the concrete floors of the loft, no doubt a trail of fire following your path. A laugh is begging to make its way out of him, chest trembling from holding it in because he knows he’s in deep shit, he’d known it the second he had interfered. 

Blame it on his playful personality, or maybe his need of meddling in business that very clearly wasn’t his, either way the second he heard the name of the next target you were assigned he knew he had to make a game out of it. Is it sick, or twisted? Maybe, but the man was a well known scumbag, a slimey wannabe mobster that has far too many hits out for him it’s a shock he still has a pulse, well had considering you were back now. 

Like every single assignment, he knew this one wouldn’t be missed, wouldn’t even have a news report made on him. It was the main reason why you were able to get away with it all, despite the police showing up for investigations whenever any unlucky bystander stumbled upon their body, they never seemed to dive deeper into who did it. They didn’t have to, they weren’t stupid, knowing not to bite the hand that fed them. 

As long as they continued to get a small portion of cash funneled into their department and you all continued to wipe out the low lives that made their job so hard, then there really was no crime committed. 

Namjoon called it transactional, but Taehyung called it boring. He liked it messy, enjoyed the thrill of it all, the possibility of not getting away with it, and with the help of police it took that all away from him. 

You knew he was up to no good, the gleam in his eyes when you had mentioned who you were hitting next spelled it out for you. Knowing Taehyung like the back of your hand made you wary, accustomed to the way his brain worked like a minefield, he was someone you had to watch from a distance and analyze before deciding your next move. 

“Welcome home honey.” Taehyung sings out playfully when he senses you getting closer, that same smile plastered on his face as he turns to face you, only getting wider when he notices the shiny black gun in your palm, one that actually belonged to him. It wasn’t your usual choice, something you no doubt swiped from its hiding spot when you came in, but you couldn’t exactly conceal the sniper you had used an hour prior enough to make it undetected in your hands on your way to your apartment. 

He knew it was currently disassembled and tucked into your backpack as you chucked it aside and marched your way over to him, hand clenched around the grip of his Ruger with murder so evident in your eyes. Taehyung doesn’t think you’ve ever looked cuter, even as you raise it up towards his chest once you close the distance between you. 

“You’re on thin ice Taehyung,” you laugh as you round the couch, standing directly in front of his sitting form, still casually sunken against the cushions as if you weren’t aiming for his heart. “You really think Namjoon’s going to let you come back if I tell him you’re playing games with my targets?”

Your boyfriend sighs at that, a roll of his eyes being sent your way as he drops his head to rest along the back of the couch with a groan. He didn’t need you to remind him of his current standing with Namjoon, knowing fully well that he had crossed a line by smashing that random man’s face into the fancy bar counter for simply looking at you. It wasn’t fair really, had he taken the time to get to know the guy he would have realized just how high up that random man was in terms of connections, but Taehyung could blame his tunnel vision for cutting the introductions short. 

Like you said, his brain was a minefield, one wrong step was all it took before his fingers were tangling into the poor man’s hair and connecting his face with the wooden counter. He wasn’t even sure what set him off, the edges of his sight blurring together as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, pulling out the small gun he always had tucked away with him, pressing the muzzle against his temple and laughing maniacally as the man tried to pry his hands off of him. 

He liked to keep things exciting, but unfortunately for him that excitement ended up costing Namjoon far too much in order to keep Taehyung from being thrown into jail, which would have arguably been a lot better than being stuck on what could be considered probation, no longer able to work unless Namjoon deemed it acceptable. 

“Children shouldn’t play with guns.” Taehyung mocks, hoping to distract you while his eyes stayed glued to the end of the barrel, following it as you inched it closer with a wicked smile on your face. He knew he was on thin ice, nearly ruining your shot, potentially resulting in the target escaping because of his stupid game. That wasn’t too big of an issue, the chase made it fun some times, but considering this target had a bigger money sign tacked onto their back there would be no way you could let a fuck up slide. 

He smiles still, lips curling up and showing his teeth as he focuses on your face now, seeing the way you look at him. You had those crazy eyes he loved to see, full of adrenaline, body still buzzing from earlier, analyzing his every move as you tuck the end of the cold barrel under his chin and slowly cock the safety back with a soft click. 

“Who said I was playing?”

The small flash of excitement sparks in his eyes as you dig the muzzle into his skin, his mouth dropping open as he breathes out a laugh, his large palm coming to clutch around your own, urging the gun further into his skin. 

“Do it,” he taunts, guiding your fingers to slide over the trigger, floating off of it as you observe him. 

“I should’ve done it the second I saw you leaving that bastards apartment” you threaten, remembering the rage you had felt when you witnessed your boyfriend exit the complex and look directly up at the building across from him, knowing you would be perched on the ledge with your gun aimed at the window as you waited. The childlike wave he had sent you from the ground made you want to change your aim towards him, the urge to pull the trigger only increasing when he sent you a simple text telling you to enjoy the chase. 

That was the first push of the domino that sent everything collapsing and as you peeked through the window and saw your target frantically packing a bag as he looked around you couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance from flaring inside of you. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out that Taehyung had notified him that his head was on the line and now he was going to try to run. 

It was supposed to be a clean job, it was the main reason you preferred to use a sniper instead of the slightly more intimate methods used by the others, all you had to do was disassemble your Sako and get yourself off whatever ledge you were on and that was it, job completed. Anticipating a chase was not something you thought would happen today but the second he began to shove clothes into some random bag you knew you were losing your window of opportunity. 

“How far did he get?” Taehyung laughs, eyes full of mischief as you glare at him, that tiny smirk on your face giving you away, showing him just how amused you were at his antics despite the gun pressed against his skin

“The stairwell.” You knew the layout of his building well enough to know exactly what exit route he would take, beginning the chase Taehyung had been so eager to start. Having to get down from your spot and somehow beat him before he left his apartment was too far fetched, but catching him before he exited the complex completely was the only thing that kept you from admitting defeat. 

Your heart continues to rapidly beat in your chest as you recall it, how your lungs had burned as you took the stairs two at a time once you managed to get inside the complex, nearly ramming into your target as he rounded the stairwell in his haste to leave undetected. 

Had it not been for his already set paranoia he would have simply shoved you aside, not expecting a girl to be the one in charge of taking him out, but the second he spots the unhinged look in your face, the way your eyes glimmer when you realize you caught him, he knows it's too late to run. Thankfully for you, he accepted his fate pretty easily after that. 

“Did you leave a mess?” 

“I couldn’t use my Sako you asshole.”

Taehyung laughs freely now, his other hand coming to scoop around your waist and pull you closer, your thighs slotting between his. If you couldn’t use your precious Sako he knew you were pissed, hence the gun to his throat. There was nothing you hated more than having to come in close contact with whoever you were meant to kill, you weren’t a fan of the bargaining they tried to make with you, not particularly enjoying seeing their face as you pressed the suppressor of your Beretta between their eyes before you pulled the trigger. 

“Is that why you’re so trigger happy right now?” He’s taunting you, biting his lip as he smiles up at you, eyes widening slightly as you gingerly place your finger on the trigger. “C’mon, teach me a lesson. Shoot me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. 

The second the last word leaves his mouth, your finger presses down on the trigger, the brief moment of shock is painted across his face when he hears the click, eyes squinting when he expects the searing pain that was sure to follow but it never came. In a blink of an eye his hands are expertly releasing the magazine of his Ruger, letting it fall into his grip as he brings it close to really check to see that it was in fact empty, something you no doubt did the second you entered the loft. 

Your joyous laughter fills the air instantly, dropping the gun from its position as you lose yourself in the giggles that escape you. “You should have seen your face.”

Taehyung continues to stare at the empty magazine, looking up at you incredulously, the beginning of a smile once again gracing his face at the pure shock that you actually pulled the trigger. “You were gonna fucking shoot me.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever shoot you–“

“You have!” He remarks, snatching the gun from your grasp and sliding the magazine back into place, remembering the time you gave him a warning shot to the shoulder the last time he tried to meddle in your business. Sure you might have just grazed his skin but a trigger was still pulled. 

Taehyung chuckles when you plop onto the couch next to him, body still trembling with laughter as you wipe underneath your eyes for any stray tears. “Don’t tell me to shoot you if you don’t actually want me to”

“You’re a psycho,” he jests, tossing the gun safely aside as he faces you, seeing the oh so innocent smile on your lips. 

“Don’t act so surprised.” He’s not, knowing you were two peas in a pod, just the right amount of crazy to level each other out, if any more was added to either of you there would no doubt be actual shots fired. It worked though, a nice balance between you that allowed the relationship to go on as long as it has. 

“You’d never actually do it,” he sighs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, smug with the fact that you would never actually hurt him. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Would I?” A teasing laugh fills the air as your hand glides up his chest, fingers trailing towards his neck until they curl around his skin, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. When your fingers tighten around his neck he chuckles, the vibrations felt against your palm. 

The arm slung around your shoulder slides down to your back, scooping you over until you’re settling onto his thighs in his favorite position, a mischievous glint to his eyes flashing when you look at him.  “You definitely would baby, who else would be here to drive you crazy like I do?” His deep voice pulls you in, dripping from his tongue in a manner that makes you want to lean forward and savor every drop. 

“Should we find out?”

Taehyung just drops his head back once more, a cynical lift to his lips when you bring up your second hand to wrap around his thick neck, fingers digging further into his skin. “Please, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’re sick,” you laugh out, squealing when his hands tighten their grip around your waist, his head leveling out as he stares at you with that same glint in his eyes. 

“I know I am, but you like it.” A gasp leaves your mouth as he slides you further up his lap, clothed core pressing into the slowly growing bulge in his pants. “Don’t act like I forgot the little stunt you pulled this morning.” 

Flashes of this morning play in your mind, the way you had teased him the minute he woke up and felt his cock pressed against you. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled on top of him, kissing and biting his neck while you slowly rolled your hips above him. Taehyung honestly isn’t complaining about it, who wouldn’t love starting their morning off with their girlfriend so hell bent on making them cum.

The only downside of it all was the fact that you actually hadn’t made him cum, leaving him high and dry with an evil laugh as you rolled back off of him and went about your morning as if you hadn’t just committed an awful crime. That may be the reason Taehyung was so insistent on making your assignment tonight a fun little game for the two of you to play and now that that was done and over with he could finally have you on top of him just like this morning.

“You’re telling me you don’t like when I play games with you?” He huffs out a laugh at the teasing kick to your voice, a sinful smile on your lips as you allow him to unzip your sweater, tugging the loose material off your body to reveal the simple black shirt you wore underneath.

“That wasn’t a game, it was torture.” His words are muffled as he leans forward, lips pressing kisses into your skin, breath fanning out and sending tingles down your spine. It was funny how he could pick and choose what was classified as a game, the earlier antics he caused seeming more like torture than you grinding on him at the crack of dawn but you’d let him believe it.

The hold you have on his neck loosens, your arms spreading out to allow him to slip the sweater off of you entirely, large palms now coming to roam over the small sliver of exposed skin that peeked out under the hem of your shirt. “You know what would be so hot?” His cold fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as he inches the material up, little by little, revealing your belly button, the edge of your bra coming next as you hum in question. 

“If you ever wore some hot ass latex or leather on the job.” He groans unabashedly at the thought of you in a tight leather corset, boobs accentuated as it hugged your skin. Maybe you’d wear a cute little garter with your Beretta tucked into it, or one of those adorable daggers you had grown so fond of recently. 

It might be a wet dream of his but you just snort at the thought, not being able to imagine yourself getting a decent shot with something so restrictive on, god forbid Taehyung decided to play another game of cat and mouse you’re not so sure a leather corset would hold as you chased your target. 

“That's so impractical, I’ll do it for you here though.” That appeases him, a smug smile on his lips as he continues to pull up your shirt, taking his time as if he was unwrapping his favorite present. With your red bra fully revealed he sighs in appreciation, tossing the shirt aside without a care to fully admire you. 

His hands cup over your bra, thumbs gently tracing the swell of your breasts before giving a rough squeeze that makes you breathe out a laugh. “Will you really?” He questions, keeping a good hold on you as he flips you over, flat on your back with your head resting by the armrest of the couch. Your elbows hold you up as you smile at him, dazed as you watch him tug up his grey shirt and throw it off to the side. 

“Yeah, only if you buy that cute maid costume I found and wear it for me.” Taehyung doesn’t even think twice before agreeing, stomach tensing up as your fingers trace along his skin, circling around the random scars that litter his body from close encounters and senseless fights. They serve as physical reminders of your boyfriend’s careless behavior, that minefield mentality making the worst decisions possible in the name of getting a quick thrill. You follow them up until you reach the tiny scar you were responsible for on his shoulder, shallow and faded to a lighter tan now that it was healed.

“I told you, you’re trigger happy.” His hand grasps your own, bringing it back down to the couch as he chuckles. “I think you’re a danger to society Y/N.” 

“Hm, am I?” Your voice drawls out as you stretch out, enjoying the way he watches you like a predator would his prey, sharp eyes hyper focused on your every move and you swear he can hear how your heart races in your chest. When he simply hums in response, nimble fingers beginning to unbutton your jeans, you can only giggle and help him as best as you can, lifting your hips and pulling your legs until the tight material has joined the growing pile on the floor.

Taehyung slots between your thighs with ease now, hands digging into the sofa as he holds himself up and leans forward to kiss you once more. His breath is felt on your face as he groans at the taste of you, forever loving the feeling of your lips on his, an endless craving he would never get over. You taste like your favorite chapstick, sweet like candy, and when his tongue peeks out to get a better dose you breathe his name out in a sigh that sounds like music to his ears.

Resting his weight on his knees, his hands are set on their mission, palms sliding underneath you until they reach the back clasp of your bra, expertly unhooking it until it snaps against your skin. A playful laugh is passed between your mouths as he does so, his teeth gently nipping at your lips before he begins his descent. Sloppy kisses are pressed along your jaw as he pulls the straps of your garment down your arms and lets it fall onto the floor.

As he reaches the juncture of your neck he takes a nice inhale, chuckling when he catches the hint of your sweet shampoo mixed with the metallic tang of gunpowder. “You smell like work–“

“Get off, I’m gonna shower!” You try to swat him off of you but he’s quick to grasp your hands, pinning them above your head, giving you a wicked smile as he stares down at you, loving the way your nose twitches in anger at being held down by his arms and hips. 

So cute. 

“No, I finally have you right where I want you.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung chooses not to answer you as he starts to continue the trail of kisses down your neck, grabbing both wrists in one hand as his other trails down your chest. The ticklish feeling leaves you fidgeting around as he grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing the flesh before slowly circling around your nipple until it hardens at the sensation. The wet path of kisses passes your collarbones, soft smacks of his lips on your skin as he nears your neglected breast, kisses around the swell of them in a teasing way.

When he finally envelopes your other nipple into his mouth you gasp, arching your back to push more of you into his mouth, feeling the vibrating hum against your skin as his tongue flicks around your areola. Tingles shoot up your spine as he pinches your nipple in his fingers, pinching and rolling the bud between his grasp, the feeling of his sharp teeth press into your skin when he smiles at the way you react to his touch, soft moans flowing past your lips the longer he teases you.

With a slight pop, he releases your nipple, a satisfied laugh hitting the air when he sees the way it’s covered in a sheen of his saliva, rising and falling with each of your breaths. His palm still holds your hands hostage but as you fidget in his grasp he releases them, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking at the soft tufts of dark brown until you were content.

“So this is right where you want me?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah,” he leans up and kisses you once more before trailing down your body, your hands still tangled in his hair as he descends in the same fashion as before, an endless trail of smooches down your ribs, across your torso and around your belly button. The final kisses are pressed into your hips as his fingers hook into the band of your underwear, pulling the waistband of your matching red thong up at the sides and letting it snap against your skin like an annoying child, snickering at the sound it makes. 

When you nudge your knee against his sides he stops fooling around, finally yanking them down your thighs, gingerly unhooking them from around your feets to be forgotten entirely now that he stares down at your exposed pussy. A smile graces his face at the sight, folds wet and glistening, already messy in a way he couldn’t resist as he glides his face against your inner thighs. “This is where I want you.”

Your fingers twirl around his hair as he messily kisses around your lower lips, eyes falling shut as you focus on each touch on your body, the brief nudge of his nose, the had press of his lips and finally, the cool sensation of his saliva as he licks a broad stripe up your slit, tongue collecting the drips of your arousal. 

“Fuck, Taehyung.” It comes out as a mewl, head dropping back in awe when he repeats the motion, tongue slipping through your folds, the tip of it meeting your clit in a small jolt that leaves you breathless. He could do this all day, feel each stinging pull on his scalp that accompanies each flick of his tongue, your cries of pleasure only increasing when he spreads your folds apart and dives in with new set determination.

The messy smacks and slurps blend in with your choked breath, mingling in between each gasped syllable that make up his name, pleas of more that he can’t deny. Soft lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking gently in a way he knows you love, spelled out by your thighs spreading further apart, hips rutting into his face in desperation.

These deliberate flicks against your bundle of nerves are set to tease, proven when he stops altogether with an evil smile, your arousal coating his chin but he doesn’t mind it, revelling in the harsh yank you deliver to his hair at his stopping.

“Baby has a temper, it sucks to be teased huh?” Taehyung’s words are spoken through a smirk, mouth dropped open as he laughs carelessly, head pulled back by your hold on his hair. The cute pout on your lips doesn’t look threatening in the least, not when he can see just how close you are to falling apart, the subtle twitch of your thighs being telling enough.

“I promise, I’ll never do that again. Just make me cum, please.” His eyes glimmer now, teeth biting down on his lower lip when you guide him back down to your swollen lips, wet with a mixture of your arousal and his spit.

“Deal.” Without wasting another second, his lips are back on you, long fingers joining in as he circles your entrance, slowly easing their way inside in a familiar stretch that makes you arch your back. He smiles against you as he feels the tight ring of muscles wrapped around him, the soft walls of your pussy felt along his fingertips as he curves his digits inside of you, not content until you’re gasping above him as he tickles along your gspot.

“K-keep doing that.” You beg him, mouth dropping open as another moan spills out when he does as you ask, fingers pumping into you, rubbing along your sweet patch as his tongue continues to ravish you, circling and sucking on your clit to give you the release you crave.

“Ah, fuck I’m close.”

Taehyung holds in his laugh as your feet slide along the top of the couch, searching for some leverage as you lose yourself in the feeling. The grip you have on his hair tightens as you near your release, body set alight with each thrust of his fingers, eyes screwed shut as you savor it all. He can feel the way your walls squeeze his fingers, leaving his cock hard in his jeans when he thinks of the way your walls will feel around him next.

With a final flick against your clit you’re shouting out his name, flashes of light sparking behind your closed lids as your body tenses up, limbs rendered useless as the wave of your climax washes over you. Taehyung always loved the way your bones turned into jello when the pleasure rocked through you, fingers losing their grip and thighs flopping onto the couch when he pulled away, face looking entirely satisfied by your reaction.

“That was exactly how I wanted you.” A messy kiss is placed onto your hip once more, leaving a wet spot in its wake that can be attributed to the remnants of your orgasm coating his lips.

“Yeah, you know how I want you?” you pant, giggling when his kisses turn ticklish, eyes looking up at you in question. “Fucking me so hard I forget I’m still mad at you.”

Oh, he could do that no problem. 

It’s almost comical how quickly he’s able to get out of his jeans and underwear, his hand wrapping around his cock as he kneels onto the couch again. A smile spreads along his lips when he takes note of the look on your face as you stare at him, eyes following his hand as he lazily pumps his length. 

There's pure mischief in your eyes, a tiny devil on your shoulder that cheers at the prospect of you getting what you want, thighs spreading further apart in invitation for him. Taehyung presses his lips together as his thumb rolls over the tip of his cock, smearing the beads of precum around the swollen head before giving himself a gentle squeeze as he inches forward. 

It feels like time stands still as you watch with bated breath when he guides his cock to your entrance, a gasp slipping through your lips when he slaps the head of his cock against your sensitive clit, enjoying the small shudder that courses through your body with a discreet laugh.

“Taehyung,” you whine, rutting your hips up impatiently for him to hurry up. He finds pleasure in this though, his constant need to play games with you out ruling anything else.

“What?” He probes, smiling at you as if he didn’t have his dick inches from entering you.

“Fuck me, c’mon.” Your words trail off as his tip presses against you, slowly breaching your entrance in a familiar stretch that leaves your mind spinning. Taehyung can’t even get himself to make a sly remark like he always does, tease you about how messy you were before he even properly fucked you, no his head is wiped out of any witty comment, only able to focus on how amazing you feel around him. 

“Shit,” he gasps out, sliding into you with ease from how wet you were, the slick coating your thighs and dripping down onto the couch beneath you. You find comfort in the feeling of his hands sliding up your thighs as he bottoms out, fingers gripping onto your hips so tightly it dimples your skin, holding you still before sliding back out of you in a wet squelch. Taehyung can’t get himself to look away at the visual, how his cock shines in the light, coated in the strings of your arousal.

A choked moan reaches his ears the second he starts to thrust into you, hands keeping you still to prevent you from sliding around from the quick pace he knows you love. Your own hands scramble to reach down, fingers wrapping around his arms to ground yourself as he snaps his hips into you, the laughter mixing with delighted moans letting him know he wasn’t being too rough. No you would never think that, wanting nothing more than to let Taehyung have his way with you, hips knocking into yours with each rock, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a dull throb that left your nerves on edge.

“Just like that,” you mewl, his attention dragging away from your soaked cunt, looking up at you and seeing the dazed expression on your face. Seeing you like this definitely topped the adorable way you had held a gun to his chest, broken down and vulnerable all because of him. It was a privilege he didn’t take lightly, allowed to see you in a light he knew others hadn’t.

“Fuck you feel so good, so warm,” his words are spoken quietly, almost like a train of thought that hadn’t meant to escape but he means them, completely lost in the way your walls flutter around him, each pulse leaving him grunting in ecstasy. 

“You’re right,” you start with a laugh, “I would miss you”

That grabs his attention, hips never slowing as he tilts his head in curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, no one else could fuck me as good as you do.” He chuckles at that, looking down at you and seeing the evil glint in your eyes as you smile, voice as sweet as honey when you ask him, “Would you miss me?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully at your question, eyes falling shut when you clench around him on purpose, a teasing laugh leaving your lips as his mind blanks momentarily. “I don’t know, should we find out?” He mocks your earlier phrase as he trails his own hand up your body to your neck, large palm easily wrapping around it. He’s no stranger to the flash of excitement on your face, having grown used to the way you’d beg him to choke you so often it was like second nature now.

Call it sick but it made your brain turn into mush, made you abandon all dignity whenever he wrapped his hands around you. Maybe it should instill a sense of fear into you, knowing those same hands had done so much harm to others, the countless times they’ve been wrapped around other targets with the intent to kill. The soft glimmer in his eyes settles any thoughts before you can even have them, the twisted version of love spelled out in the curl of his lips as he asks if this is okay comforts you because you know he’ll never actually hurt you. 

“Tighter,” you mumble out, smirking when he listens, fingers pressing into your skin deliciously. The minute his hands are properly wrapped around you its like your body is lit up, every nerve ending spazzing out, allowing you to feel the pleasure tenfold as his cock continues to fuck you. Each obscene squelch of his cock mixed with the added feeling of him grinding into your clit makes your brain go fuzzy, your legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to keep him closer.

Taehyung knew you loved to be choked, loved to feel the pounding of your blood rushing through your ears, the way the edges of your vision would fade out, his own face speckled in black as the feeling spread. His eyes never leave yours, amazement displayed in them at seeing you fall apart, your small hand laying on top of his in a sense of security. Your chest rises and falls with each breath, the moans and cries only getting softer as your orgasm approaches you, eyes threatening to close.

He knows the signs too well, waiting for the right moment and just before he knows you’ll cum he releases your throat, the sudden rush of unrestricted blood flow pushing you over the edge and intensifying the feeling. It’s evident in the way you gush around his cock, body tensing as your climax crashes through you, your arms desperately clinging onto him as he fucks you through it, soft hushes and whispers pressed into your skin as he kisses you gently. 

Your mind wipes out entirely, eyes screwed shut as you come down, body buzzing with sensitivity as you ooze around his cock, leaving an unholy mess beneath you. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He groans out, the desperate cries and soft mewls of his name are what finally push him over, spilling into you in ribbons of white, rutting his hips a few more times before stilling altogether, panting above you with sweat coating his hairline.

“I’d miss you too.” He mumbles out with a shy smile, gently brushing away the stray hairs from your face as you try to catch your breath. His face looks soft now, almost squishy as his cheeks puff out, it was hard to believe that was the face of a killer.

“Hmm, certified psycho Kim Taehyung goes soft for his girlfriend, who should I notify?” 

He snorts at your retort, pulling out of you only to flop on top of you without a care in the world, nuzzling his face into your hair because he secretly loved the smell of your shampoo mixed with the gunpowder he had teased you about earlier. “Maybe the FBI, I’m pretty sure they’d love to know the name of any accomplice.”

“I’m not your accomplice.”

“Right my bad, they think I work alone.” He chuckles as he recounts the way the crooked cops had notified them of the FBI’s increased interest in Taehyung after he had smashed that man’s head in. Really who would have pegged the guy as an FBI agent. It didn’t raise too many concerns for him though, Taehyung hardly meddled in foreign affairs in the states anyways. 

Before you’re able to tease him about his fuck ups once more the incessant ring of your phone drones off from the floor. With a groan from Taehyung he’s reaching down and pulling the device free from your sweater’s pocket,seeing it was Namjoon calling, no doubt ready to ask how the assignment went but Taehyung swipes the screen to answer. 

“You know, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Your jaw drops as you laugh, attempting to swat at him to grab your phone free from it’s confines but he’s determined, holding it tightly against his ears with a devilish smile.

“Keep it up Taehyung, you’ll be on probation until I say so.” Namjoon’s voice is heard loud and clear through your phone’s speaker, the eye roll your boyfriend gives being comical enough, his mood being dampened at the reminder. With a pout of his lips he’s handing you the phone, getting off of you with a slight grimace when he feels just how sweaty you two had gotten.

Your conversation is quick, finished by the time he was done cleaning up, exiting your room with new clothes on and your favorite robe to hand you. The very evident smile on your lips shows whatever you two talked about must have been good, no doubt having gotten endless praise from Namjoon along with a new assignment. “I know that smile, what’s up.”

Slipping the robe on with a sigh you stand up and wrap your arms around his waist, peering up at him in delight. “I get to use my Sako next week.”

He can only shake his head at the tone in your voice, speaking about using your favorite gun on a target like it was a shiny new doll for you to play with. “You’re psycho you know that.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

Alex Fierro's Introduction Full Breakdown

Okokok so. This is going to go full English-professor mode, where I'm drawing conclusions that are gonna seem a little far-fetched. That's what's fun about media analysis! I can say something is a symbol, and even if I don't have enough faith in RR's competency to know if he meant for it to be a symbol, it's still true! That being said, a lot of these choices I'm sure are intentional, either at a literal or subliminal level. Page numbers are going to be used not to assert a kind of authority or whatever— this is a Tumblr post, not an essay— but to help readers find the pages I'm referencing in case they'd like to do some digging of their own. Also, this is going to be really long. Really sorry to anyone with ADHD; I might make an audiofile of this so you can get the information without having to read the whole thing. With all that, let's get into it!

To kick off, let's talk about Alex being in the form of a cheetah when she first meets Magnus. Of course, there's the obvious impact of him seeing her but only so breifly, as well as introducing the conflict between her and the rest of Hall 19. But that could have easily been accomplished by almost any animal. The choice of a cheetah being implicated implies two qualities of Alex that will be recurrent throughout the two books she's in: 1. She has a tendency to run away, as we'll later learn when she describes how she became homeless, and 2. To Magnus, she's elusive. She can't be caught or held down. The event that shows this so transparently is how Alex refuses to define their relationship at the end of the series, despite it clearly surpassing the normal bounds of friendship.

But the cheetah isn't the animal Alex is in the form of when Magnus first gets a good look at her; she's a weasel. Weasel's bring up all kinds of connotations: ferocity, slickness, a lack of charm. When we want to describe someone as an untrustworthy person, we call them a weasel. RR had Alex take this form to play up her comrades' feeling of distrust towards her. She could be a double-crosser. But paradoxically, the up-front and vicious mannerisms of a weasel also have a transperency. She does not try appealing to her Hallmate's sense of goodwill because she doesn't have anything to gain from it. So even though there is the implication that she might be an antagonist, there's also evidence from her actions and mannerisms that she isn't. The weasel's long and skinny frame also allow for a smooth transition into Alex's actual body, which is convenient.

As Alex transforms into her usual human form, Magnus describes her as "a regular human teen, long and lanky, with a swirl of dyed green hair, black at the roots, like a plug of weeds pulled out of a lawn" (pg. 50). That simile at the end is of particular interest. Let's compare it to another time Magnus describes Alex's hair, in Ship of the Dead: "Her hair had started to grow out, the black roots making her look even more imposing, like a lion with a healthy mane" (pg. 136). By contrasting these two different examples, we can see the development of Magnus and Alex's relationship. The first time he sees her, he thinks of her hair as something nasty— note the word choice "weeds." Later on, though, he becomes more affectionate towards her, more complentary. The immedient negative reaction is less his actual impression, though, and more the reaction he expected to have based on everyone else's reaction to Alex.

Her clothes are equally as interesting; as Magnus describes it, Alex wears "battered rose high-tops, skinny lime green corduroy pants, a pink-and-green argyle sweater-vest over a white tee, and another pink cashmere sweather wrapped around the waist like a kilt" (pg. 50). Aside from the obvious fact that this outfit is a) bizzare, b) fire, and c) Alex's signature colors, which add a layer of style to what can otherwise be a somewhat boring series fashion-wise (excuse me, Blitz), the outfit reveals a crucial facet of Alex's backstory in a kind of subtle way. These are expensive clothes, like the Stella McCartney dress in Alex's room. Note the mention of fabrics (corduroy, cashmere) and patterns (argyle). These indicate wealth and status. Even the high-tops; shoes like that don't come cheap. But I'd like to return to the very first word of the section: "battered." Alex's wardrobe show-cases a proximity to wealth, but also shows that that proximity has been strained and lengthened, maybe for an extended period of time. Alex dresses like a rich person, but she isn't one. Least, not anymore.

The last word of that outfit-introduction is also of interest: "kilt." At the current moment, Magnus thinks that Alex is male. No one has indicated otherwise to him. Everyone has been referring to Alex with he/him pronouns. Samirah called Alex her "brother" (pg. 29). His first thought in seeing what he at first perceives as a guy with a jacket wrapped around the waist is That looks like a kilt. This thought tells us about Magnus: despite being open and accepting, he still has some lingering notions of gender conformity from his years in wider American society.

Magnus also indicates that the outfit "reminded me of a jester's motley, or the coloration of a venomous animal warning the whole world" (pg. 50). This is rather self-explanatory, but it's still worth noting that Magnus sees the outfit as something bizzare, strange, and even perhaps comical. This places Alex at odds with the other people Magnus has met. It also reveals that Magnus has zero fashion sense. But we already knew that.

After finishing up staring at the ensemble, Magnus finally gets around to actually looking Alex in the face. First Magnus says that he "forgot how to breathe" (pg. 50), which, yeah, relatable. This is justifed by saying that Alex has the same face as Loki, but the very same sentence that asserts that that's the case also suggests an alternative reason: Alex has "the same unearthly beauty" as her father. Here we can see the beginnings of Magnus's attraction to Alex, though at this point, he still has a lot of internalized homophobia. Though there's certainly some truth in that Magnus was unnerved by Alex's resemblance to Loki, the idea that Magnus pointed out that Alex was pretty without elaborating on that thought until about a chapter later— after he was informed that Alex was presently a girl— can tell us a lot about how Magnus perceives sex and beauty.

Of course, Alex's eyes are given special attention. She has cool eyes; what can I say? But I'd like to focus in on how Magnus here depicts Alex's heterochromia as "completely unnerving" (pg. 50). Again, let's contrast this with how he describes them after getting to know Alex a little better in Ship of the Dead. In Chapter 3, Magnus describes "[Alex's] dark brown eye and his amber eye like mismatched moons cresting the horizon" (pg. 25). Once again, this shows the development of their relationship— but this time, it's in a much more personal way. Eyes are the windows to the soul; they are culturally important and biologically important in inter-personal connections. In you look into someone's eyes, you're giving them your full attention, and you're implying a kind of closeness. The way that Magnus describes Alex's eyes in the second passage is downright intimate. At this point, he is in love with Alex, and it is clear when contrasting the two descriptions.

As my last point, I'd like to discuss Alex's first words on page: "'Point that rifle somewhere else, or I will wrap it around your neck like a bow tie'" (pg. 51). First of all, Alex saying this with a "perfect white smile" (pg. 51) on his face implies that she is used to being threatened. She is not afraid of being shot; she counters the promise of an attack with a promise of her own. This pleads the question: why is Alex accustomed to violence? What events of her past or qualities of her life have brought her to this point? The threat itself reveals Alex's trauma from being genderfluid in a society with rigid gender norms, as well as her antagonistic relationship with her father. Magnus makes a comment that Alex "might actually know how to tie a bow tie, which was kind scary arcane knowledge" (pg. 51). Like Alex's wardrobe, the idea that she may have experience in high-class fashion also implies her former status as a rich kid.

I could go on. I could break apart Alex saying "'Pleased to meet you all, I guess'" (pg. 51). There is a wealth of information in this short page span that tells us things about Alex Fierro in the present moment, quietly demonstrates things about her past, and characterizes the narrator Magnus Chase. This passage is also effective in hindsight in marking the progress of Magnus and Alex's relationship.

But I'd like to take a step back and look at not the pieces, but the whole picture. Alex Fierro gets a full page of pure description— her outfit, her face— and about a chapter of introduction. This comes after several chapters of build-up. Alex Fierro is an important character you need to keep your eyes on. Alex Fierro is emotionally significant to the main character, Magnus Chase. Alex Fierro is one of the most developed and well-rounded characters that Rick Riordan has ever written— heck, she's one of the best characters in middle-grade books period. The extended emphasis on her and her alone tells us exactly what role she's going to play in this story: she's the star.

[hopecountyisforlovers]

tangled up in arms; chapter three

You are Project Ambrosia, a genetically altered human test subject with abilities that could revolutionize the medical field- kept captive for a lifetime in a high tower. He is Otto Octavius, former scientist turned supervillain after a fusion accident, itching to continue his research. When your paths cross, will it simply mean your freedom? Or perhaps… something more? || Takes place in a modified offshoot of the Raimiverse. Rating may change later if I decide to write spicy scenes. Currently a soft M for themes and Violence. Heavily inspired by Disney’s Tangled.

Read It On Archive

Chapter Three: City

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

The night air was cold on your skin.

It smelled incredible- like a thousand things you had no names for. It was an overcast night, but thin pricks of light peeked through the clouds and the thick fog that hung over the city, joined by the big round moon that flushed the tall buildings with pale light. You looked down as you were carried up the sides and over the tops of buildings- below you, the city was still wide awake- traffic congested and unmoving on the streets, restaurants and homes brightly lit, people on bikes and sharing kisses and holding hands-

"Wow." It was the only word that your mind would see fit to process. It still felt surreal, to be here, to be...free. Your gaze slid to the tentacle wrapped firmly around your waist. Well...free enough.

"You act like you've never been outside before." The Doctor joked, voice rough around the edges with strain. Him speaking up was enough to fully remind you that he was there at all. You didn't say anything, only stared at him, and something about the look on your face must have made him feel guilty. "I'm sorry."

"No," You gestured to his injured shoulder, still leaving a thick trail of blood behind you. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that... I mean, I knew they would..." You sighed. "If you put us down somewhere, I can..uh... I can help you."

It occurred to you this was your first conversation with a stranger outside of those walls. A handsome stranger at that. Was it okay to think of him that way? Something told you you probably shouldn't. You hoped you weren't royally blowing it, regardless- did getting him shot count as royally blowing it?

He winced, as if just remembering himself that he had a hole in his arm, glancing between his bleeding shoulder and your face with disbelief. His extra arms had fully taken over navigation, moving you effortlessly through the city, which was good, because he seemed to be getting more disoriented by the second. "Help me?"

"There's a reason they kept me locked up in there."

There's a look of understanding that passes over his features, and in the next instant you're being set down on your feet, legs shaking beneath you. Based on the ambulances parked just below, you were on the roof of a hospital. You could almost laugh, but resist the urge to- had he done that on purpose? He had sat down against the brick wall that ran around the edge of the roof- his breathing was coming unsteady, his skin colorless and clammy. You made your way to his side, and his extra additions watched you with all four of their unblinking red eyes, completely still - like they were trying to tell you something. Or still deciding whether or not they'd let you touch him.

You were possessed, suddenly, to brush his reddish-brown bangs back away from his sweaty forehead in a tender gesture, regardless of their permission. Surprisingly, nothing stopped you. Still- Why had you done that? He didn't seem to mind, anyway- if anything, he chased your touch, leaning up weakly into it. It was probably just the blood loss. "You'll be okay. This won't hurt. I promise."

Without waiting any longer, you pressed both your palms over the hole in his shoulder. He's lucky, in a way- the bullet seemed to have gone clean through, not leaving any fragments or pieces behind. A clean wound. You could feel something shift- either his energy or yours, and the bleeding was stopping, the gory hole repairing itself in an instant, stitching itself back together. You could even feel the electric whoosh underneath his skin of his blood replenishing, so familiar and yet so alien. It was the first time you had gotten to use your powers to really help someone. It felt...good.

"Project Ambrosia." He spoke underneath his breath still a bit dazed, and at long last he took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you, tucking them into a pocket on his coat. His eyes were a deep, chocolate brown that you found you couldn't look away from. "When that idiot Osborn said in the papers he held the key to immortality...." he laughs, the sound barely a whisper even with the strength slowly returning to him.

He knew Osborn- even if it didn't sound like he particularly liked him. You swallowed hard, a cold sliver of fear running down your spine, and backed away from him a little- as if that tiny bit of distance would do you any good against running away from him if it came down to it. Your voice is smaller than you would like for it to be. "You're not going to take me back there, are you, Dr. Octavius?"

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't-" he reassured, but it also sounded like a sigh, like he had lost something, "I can't go back there anytime soon, not after tonight. They'll be on the lookout for me. I might not be so lucky next time."

Guilt slips through you like a chill. Whatever he had actually come there for, he wouldn't be getting it now. All because he had helped you instead. You decided you wanted to change the subject a little- apologizing didn't really mean much, did it? Especially not the second time. "How are you feeling?"

The Doctor looks down at his arm, still in a bit of disbelief, where the only thing that remained of his grievous injury was a hole in his leather jacket. "Not at all like I just got shot and was bleeding out, miraculously."

You do laugh, that time, and he gives you a smile that summons something warm into your chest.

"Glad to know my jokes are still funny."

"I might not be the best judge of that. They are the first jokes I've ever heard."

That doesn't have the effect you intended, and brown eyes level on you with pity instead of humor, the awkward silence that develops between you stretching out far into the chill of the city evening. You look anywhere but at him- it was not hard for you to decide that you didn't like to be pitied. Below, an ambulance pulled up to the front of the hospital, siren blaring and flashing in a brilliant display of red and white lights. Above, an airplane streaked silently between the stars and clouds. "....Thank you, Dr. Octavius. For. For getting me out of there."

"Thank you for saving my life...." He paused, like he was trying to search for something he couldn't remember if you had told him or not.

You don't bring up how you're the one who endangered it in the first place- you're sure that he knows that and he's just being polite. Truthfully, you had never been given a name by the people who held you, and you know somehow that that's what he's waiting for. He probably just wants to avoid asking if you've actually got one, after what happened earlier. You try to remember the one you had given yourself as a child, back when you still thought of yourself as someone who would ever be called by it. You had that chance now, didn't you? It came to you like a burst of inspiration. "Y/N."

"Y/N." He repeated, slurring the letters together a little. "Thank you, Y/N."

Within the next few minutes, he was out cold sitting up- you guessed the night had really taken a lot out of him, and that it had caught up to him all at once. You moved closer to his side- to keep the both of you warm, nothing more, and the robotics attached to him, also seemingly drowsy, allowed that, too, one drooping heavily around your shoulders.

You spent the rest of the night looking at the sky.

[hellsenthero]

Indigo

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X Reader

A lazy day in bed quickly turns into another mission. But that’s okay, because the Hydra base was supposed to be empty. It was supposed to be an easy mission. But when are things ever easy for Bucky and Y/N? 

Warnings/themes: Guns, angst, fluff. (2K Words.)        

*Main Masterlist*      *The Colour Series Masterlist*

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THE NIGHT.

The indigo night is a cold one. The shot rings out clear in the air and before you know it you’re falling back, back, back into the indigo waters below. Bucky’s outstretched hand scims your own. He’s so, so close. But not close enough. He screams and you think it’s your name, but the rushing wind swallows it up before finally, everything is swallowed up. 

And all there is is indigo. Infinite, icy, indigo. 

And then nothing. 

THE MORNING. 

You know it’s a good morning when you wake to your boyfriend’s feather light kisses rather than a blaring alarm. The smell of coffee drifts through the air and before you even open your eyes you know Bucky must have made you a cup and brought it back to bed for you. 

“‘S my birthday or som’thin’?” You mumble out into your pillow. You can feel Bucky pause in his kissing against your neck as he lets out a chuckle. 

“No doll, it’s just a good day.”

“Yeah?” You half ask before rolling over. The blinds are open in your room, morning sunlight streaming inside and your poor eyes are too sensitive still, so you look up at Bucky with only one eye open. 

“Yeah, I had no nightmares last night.” You’re still half asleep when Bucky says this, so it takes a second to register, but once it does you’re throwing your arms around him and giving him a big kiss, morning breath be damned. 

“Bucky baby, that’s great!” Bucky’s smiling when you pull away and he turns to grab the cup of coffee off the nightstand before handing it to you. He put it in your favourite mug, you notice. The drink is warm and delicious on your tongue. Not too bitter, not too sweet, just how you like it. “This is cause for celebration, Buck.” 

Bucky lifts a brow at you as he sits propped up on his flesh arm. “I wouldn’t go that far, doll.”

“No no,” you shake your head as you set the cup of coffee back on the nightstand. “It is. And it can be small.” You reach over and tuck a stray piece of dark hair behind his ear. “How about dinner, yeah? I’ll make your favourite. And desert too.” You say with a wink, knowing desert won’t be taking place at the kitchen table. That can be saved for the rowdy round two. 

Bucky’s smile can’t help but brighten. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Great.” You say before tossing the blankets off of yourself. “Let’s get on with the day.” 

The kitchen smells of Indigo flowers when you walk into the room. A white vase of them sits on the counter by the sink. Dark and blooming they soak up the light, but it’s beautiful. You rub a velvet soft petal between your fingers, the smell rubs off on you and you smile before facing back to Bucky. “I’ll make pancakes. Part one of our celebration.”  

Part one of the celebration goes off without a hitch. Both you and Bucky smile at each other from across the table as you sit and eat. Pancakes covered in sweet and sticky maple syrup. Part two won’t be until dinner and so you take Bucky’s hand and offer to spend the rest of the day in bed, which he gladly accepts. 

“There’s no mission today.” You tell him. “So let’s just skip training and have a lazy day.” 

You spoke too soon about the mission. Because when evening rolls around and the sun begins to lower in the sky and you take that first step out of bed after rolling around the sheets all day to start cooking Bucky’s favourite meal, that’s when the Compounds alarm goes off. 

THE NIGHT. 

When you rush towards the Quinjet on the roof of the Compound you find the sun is all but gone. Taunting at a night of Indigo sky’s. The air is cool, cold really, despite it being late May and a shiver crawls up your spine. Tony, Steve and Sam are already on the jet, and a second after you come on with Bucky Natasha follows with Clint. Steve’s all-seeing eyes roam over the group before he determines everyone’s onboard and he points at Clint to pilot up the plane. “Coordinates are set up for you Clint.” He tells the other man. Clint answers with a silent nod before he disappears to the front of the jet. “We found a Hydra base on Wrangel Island, Russia. We’re unclear if it’s in use so expect some trouble, but for the most part all’s been quiet. We’re hoping this can be just a simple recon for information. Understood?” A round of affirmation goes through the jet and the rest of the ride is spent in silence. 

The jet drifts through the open air smoothly. Through the small window you can see the indigo water below, blending in with the matching sky. All of it is an open abyss. Inky, like an overturned bottle on a writer’s desk. 

Steve yells out that you’re landing in two minutes and you look over at Bucky who sits beside you. You’re holding onto his metal hand, your thumb rubbing over his metallic knuckles. He gives you one of his wavering smiles and you know he’s nervous. He always is when it comes to the Hydra missions. But he’s a soldier, a trooper, he pulls through, time and time again. 

“We got this.” You say to him softly. 

And then you’re landing. And then you’re making your way towards the base. 

The base sits on the edge of a cliff. Not too high, but high enough that you’re careful to stay away from the edge. It’s big and grey and ugly and just seeing it makes you want to burn it to the ground. Maybe after, you can get away with dropping a lit match in a waste paper basket? But now you have a job to do. Steve splits everyone into pairs, save for Tony. 

Steve and Sam take West. You and Bucky take North. Clint and Nat take East. Tony takes the air. 

And then you’re off. The North end of the building is the side that sits on the edge of the cliff. It hangs off of it, dangling like a worm on a hook over open water. Neither you nor Bucky like it. But a job’s a job. The hallways are grey, filled by dusty light. There’s no doors, no forks in the path and it’s starting to look like you and Bucky got the easy side of the building. 

“This feel like an eerie quiet to you babe or a good quiet?” You ask your lover who walks a step ahead of you. He’s always doing that, going ahead of you, not because he thinks you can’t handle yourself (he’s seeing just how damn well you can handle yourself on and off the field,) but because of his need to keep you safe. His need to protect you. 

“I’m thinking-” and that’s when you hear it. It’s soft, quiet, but there. A click that came from neither you nor Bucky. Neither of you have to share even a look before you know your next move. You go low and Bucky goes high and you switch positions. At the end of the hallway stands a dark figure. They shoot, miss, and then start running away. You and Bucky give chase. 

The dusty light of the hallway turns darker and darker and you quickly realize you’re running towards the night. An open balcony ahead. “We’re not alone.” You breathe out into your comms as you run. “North end, headed for the balcony.” A round of the team answering you goes through your comms as you race after the dark figure. Bucky’s ahead of you, practically on top of the guy when another shot goes out and you wince. Praying he wasn’t hit. 

When you reach the balcony you find your lover to be okay, for now. He’s staring down at the figure with fury in his eyes. The figures a man, who lays sprawled out on the ground, breathing heavily and bleeding from a gunshot wound in his left thigh. 

In the dark indigo night you don’t realize the balcony you stand on is really a launching pad. Not with the lights out. There is no railing, no safety net. Just the pad and then open air beneath and indigo waters below. But you don’t focus on that. You’re focused on the bleeding man before you. 

“Who are you and how many others are there?” Bucky growls out. You see he’s kicked the man’s gun towards the edge of the balcony and you go to grab it. Neither of you realize the man has a second gun on him. And when you do, it’s too late. 

The man’s eyes are dark when he looks between you and Bucky and you think they’re black. But a glint of silver light from the moon shows their true indigo color. There’s something wrong about it. Like the colour doesn’t quite belong to him. It’s too vibrant, too full of wisdom and intelligence and spirituality. It’s not befitting, it’s distracting. And it’s all the distraction the man needs. 

“Hail Hydra.” He spits out before pulling the second gun out. 

The indigo night is a cold one. You didn’t realize that before now. It was a background thought, but now it comes to the forefront of your mind. The shot rings out clear in the air and before you know it you’re falling back, back, back into the indigo waters below. The bullet skimmed you really, but so close to the edge that’s all that’s needed. The water’s cold too. You know it will be. Like death’s icy breath. That’s what you think anyways. You used to think death was a burning, scorching, unforgiving thing. But now you realize how cold it really is. Bucky’s outstretched hand scims your own. He’s so, so close. But not close enough. He screams and you think it’s your name, but the rushing wind swallows it up before finally, everything is swallowed up. 

And all there is is indigo. Infinite, icy, indigo. Death’s icy breath.

And then nothing. 

Bucky screams. A gold light follows after you. You’re like a shooting star. Still, Bucky screams. He screams your name, a cry for help, a plea for time to reverse. He hangs over the edge of the pad, looking down at the open indigo sea below. You’re gone, the gold light is gone, there’s nothing. The rest of the team runs out onto the pad, surrounding Bucky, but he doesn’t see them. He doesn’t feel their touches. He doesn’t hear their calls, asking him what happened, where you are. 

“Y/N,” he breathes. “Y/N, no, god, no please. Come back. Come back. Please. Y/N.” You don’t come back. “I need you.” 

And then the gold light. A crimson metallic suit emerges from the water below, and with it, you. Tony brings you onto the pad, still and unmoving and Sam is quick to start chest compressions. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven… Sam gets to twenty eight when you try to take your first breath, only to begin coughing up water. Bucky rolls you onto your side, hitting your back, letting all that salt water come up. And though he can barely stand to look away from you for even a moment, he shares a look with Tony. 

Thank you. Is what the look says. 

She’s one of us. Is the look the billionaire sends back. 

When your breathing gets back under control Bucky’s quick to wrap you up in his arms. His hands grasp desperately at you, pleading for you to stay with him. As if you’ll ever leave him. You kiss his jaw as you cling just as tightly back. And he whispers the same thing over and over again as he gently rocks you. 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

[amymel86]

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 7

Word Count: 6,020

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: We’re getting closer to the end. Just one more part left to go. This has been such a fun series to write for you guys. Hope you enjoy these last two little bits. As always I love your feedback, your reblogs, your tags and your likes! Happy Reading!!!

MASTERLIST

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

You weren't sure what time it was, all you knew is that moonlight was streaming through the windows, which meant the storm must have passed. The one thing you did know was why you woke up. It would actually be quite comical if it wasn't giving you such intense pleasure. You were curled into Jamie's side, his cock now hard inside you. Every so often his hips would flex into yours, hitting the spot you loved so well, which is what jolted you awake. At first, you thought he was purposely trying to wake you up with how he softly rocked into you, but then you heard his light snore and realized he was asleep, which is what made the whole thing laughable. "Mmm," Jamie moaned out, as his cock moved deeper into your core. His facial features were so relaxed, that you knew he had to be dreaming as he fucked you in his sleep.

 You dropped soft kisses to his chest, in hopes of waking him gently, yet they worked to no avail. Part of you was curious how long this would keep up before he would either spend inside you or wake up, though there was the other part that was too turned on to wait and see how it would end. Your unsated appetite won out finally, and you reached up to capture his lips. His mouth was slightly parted in sleep, so it was easy to dip your tongue inside and tangle with his. At first, his eyes remained closed, as he kissed you back and you were having trouble determining whether he was awake or not, but then they slowly opened as you pulled back from the kiss; his lips chasing yours. You watched the whole scenario play out across his face, his mind slowly coming into focus and realizing that you were in his bed, to the look of pleasure from being buried deep inside you, to utter shock that he was fucking you without any conscious thought. "Jesus," he hissed out, then went to pull out of you, only you locked your leg around him and pulled him closer to your body.

 "Don't stop, Jame."

 "I..um…" he was still in a brain fog, his body running on pure instinct at the moment as he thrust in and out of your aching pussy. You kissed him again, halting any words that he wanted to say. You knew just how close he was to cuming, as he'd worked himself into a frenzy even in sleep, but you weren't quite there yet. Jamie somehow sensed this. Running his hand between your bodies so that he could toy with your clit.

 It was your turn to moan with pleasure, as he rubbed your little nub back and forth. It didn't take long to get you to that edge, the one that would have you soaring and screaming out his name. Your pussy started to quiver as the orgasm hit, and with a few well-timed thrusts, Jamie was following you down that blissful path of ecstasy.  

 You both lay there panting, his eyes searching yours curious to your reaction of what just played out. "Did we just? Was I..?"

 "Yes, and yes, you were asleep," you laughed.

 "Oh my god, I thought I was dreaming."

 "Well, I don't have to guess what it was about." There was a teasing note to your voice, which made Jamie relax a bit. "I'm just hoping it was me that was in that dream."

 His face took on an all too serious look and you regretted the words you just jokingly said. "It's always you, (Y/N). It's always been you, though I'm glad it's now a reality."

 "Me too, Jame," you breathed out and you really were glad that this right now was your reality. Emma had been right, you needed to find out if your girlhood fantasies of your first time had been just that or if it really was everything. Now you knew for sure that it was everything and so much more. The only scary part was hoping Jamie wouldn't hurt you again. You pushed past the part of your brain that wanted to dwell on that thought and tried to focus on the here and now. "What time is it?'

 "Um…" he peeked his head above you to look at your side of the bed, where you assumed a clock was. "Just after one."

 "Mmm, good. Then let's go back to sleep."

 His lips came down to give you the sweetest kiss. "I'll try to keep my lustful dreams under control and not wake you up." There was a little smirk on Jamie's face and you were glad he was finally able to laugh about his little wet dream turned reality.

 "Hmm, I'm not opposed if it happens again."

 His eyebrows shot up, before you kissed him one more time, then snuggled back into his embrace. You were asleep within minutes.

 This time you weren't woken up by Jamie and his hard cock inside you. Instead, it was the light from the bright shining sun. You checked the time for even though you didn't have to be in the office until later today, you didn't want to get too carried away with Jamie and end up being late. Thankfully, it was only seven, which meant you had plenty of time for what you had planned. You looked over at Jamie, peacefully sleeping, though still in a state of arousal and you wondered if he was having that same dream from before, as his cock was pressed up against his stomach. You wet your lips, before pulling back the sheet farther so you could dip your head down to his erect member.

 Darting your tongue out, you licked up the length of his shaft before twirling it around the head. Jamie moaned out in pleasure, his body coming alive with just that brief contact. Your hand went to the base, as your mouth sunk down to devour his cock. Jamie's hand threaded into your locks and now you knew he was fully awake as you worked him in and out of your mouth. You peeked through your lashes to look up at his face, his pupils blown wide both from sleep and the things you were doing to him with your mouth. "Mmm, fuck baby that feels so good." You pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, a move he'd always loved when he was younger and apparently still did, as he bucked his hips into your mouth. You worked faster, bobbing up and down on his member, taking him all the way inside so he's hitting the back of your throat. "(Y/N), I'm gonna…" he groaned and you knew he was close, you could feel it. His hands were trying to get you off his cock, but you want to taste him, feel him lose control because of what you were doing just the way he did to you last night. It's when you cupped his balls that he went over the edge, spurts of hot cum shooting down your throat as he screamed out your name. You licked him clean, before taking the back of your hand and wiping your mouth.

 Jamie's was already reaching for you before you could do anything more. He had your body sprawled on top of his, and his mouth was kissing you, probably tasting himself on your lips. "I'm never going to let you leave if you keep waking me up like this."

 You kissed him back hard, before pulling back to stare into his large brown eyes. "Sorry hun, I've got patients today, so you have to let me go." Jamie's hands were roaming up and down your spine and you felt yourself melting back into him, which can't happen because you do have patients to see today, though not that many.

 He cupped your ass, squeezing the globes and making you moan. "I can be your patient if you want."

 "Oh, so you want to play doctor huh?" you asked resting your head on your hands which were laced together on his chest.

 "Mmm," he hummed. There's a little smirk that crosses his face and you can see he's intrigued with the idea. To tell the truth, so are you, but not this morning. Your legs are a bit sore from their workout last night and you still need to get to Jessi's to get your things. Reluctantly, you lift yourself off of Jamie and out of bed. "Where are you going?"

 "To the bathroom," you say rather sheepishly and pad your way into the en suite. Jamie stayed in bed and you know he's hoping that you'll be back for round three or does giving him a blow job make it round four. Either way, if you get back in that bed you may not get out, because being with him is everything you knew it would be and so much more, and that scares the hell out of you. This is all moving much faster than you anticipated but is that a bad thing. It's just so much easier because there's this familiarity between the two of you. You're trying not to overthink everything as you wash your hands in the sink, it's only then that you look up and see yourself in the mirror. "Jamie Randolph Benn!" you yelled.

 Jamie came running from the bedroom, naked and out of breath. "Are you ok?..."Did you fall?" he asked because you never called him by his full name, well maybe one time when you were really mad you did and you're pretty close to being that upset at the moment.

 "No, I'm not ok…" you told him motioning to your reflection in the mirror. "Did you..are these…" you're sputtering your words because really you're not sure what to say.

 "Hickies?" He supplies the word you couldn't seem to push past your lips. There's a smirk on his face and he looks quite pleased with himself, but he's also a bit red in the face at leaving marks on your body. God, that hasn't happened since you were in high school.

 "How am I suppose to go to work with these?" Your hands are trying to rub them out, get some sort of circulation so that the blood will flow a little better, and lessen the marks, but you know they're not going to go away magically. "What are my patients going to think?"

 "That you made someone very happy last night and that maybe he did the same for you?" Jamie slides his arms around your midsection in an attempt to soften you. You're not truly mad, so you relax against his chest, as he props his chin in the crook of your neck.

 "Well, that's true." There's this shy smile playing on his lips again and you have the urge to kiss him senseless, but then you'll end up with more of these marks on your body and you can't have that, there's already three that you're going to need to cover with makeup, plus another that you can hide under clothing. Thank god, for good concealer. "Last night was actually amazing." You thread your hands with his around your middle, loving the feel of his arms wrapped around you.

 "Then why don't we go continue it this morning." His cock has recovered from earlier as you feel its semi-erect form pressing against your backside. He's kissing your neck and then your shoulder blade and the image in the mirror of the two of you like this is making you wet again.

 "Nope," you say, then pull out of his arms, but he's already grabbing you back towards him. You go easily. "I need to shower, Jame. I'm a sticky mess, and I need to go to Jessi's and get my stuff."

 "You could shower here, with me." He's back to kissing you again and it's so distracting. "It would save on water." He kisses your collarbone. "And it would be faster." Your lips are next and you're beginning to cave, as he dances you back against the sink counter.

 "Ok," you finally give in, knowing that you have plenty of time, but not for the three-hour session you can tell Jamie has in mind. "But we have to be quick."

 "Mmhmm, sure," he tells you, before lifting you up on the counter and spreading your legs. "Just let me get you a sticky mess one more time before we rinse all this off." He winks and drops down to his knees before diving right into your pussy. Before you know it, you're coming apart sitting on his bathroom sink and then again one more time when you're in the shower, which was supposed to save time, but instead takes twice as long then if you were by yourself.

 "Jame, where's a brush?" you ask after he toweled you off, and was now drying himself.

 "Right-hand side."

 You're brushing your hair and you swear you hear something downstairs but you know Jamie locked the doors, so you must be hearing things. It's not ten seconds later, that you hear someone shouting for Jamie. "Hey, Chubbs!" A voice yells and you look at Jamie through the mirror to see if he knows who it is.

 "Shit! I forgot Tyler and I were supposed to work out." Flying back into the bedroom, you start searching for Jamie's sweats that you had on last night. "Be right down Segs," Jamie screams back. He's much calmer than you are, as you whip his sweatshirt over your head.

 "Where did you throw my panties?" He shrugs as he puts his boxers on as casual as if there isn't one of his teammates downstairs waiting for him. "Nevermind. I'll find them later." You grab the sweats and pull them on.

 "Mmm, commando huh?" You shake your head and roll your eyes at him, all while throwing your wet hair in a messy bun.

 "Would you go down there before he comes up here?"

 "He's not going to come up here. It's Tyler. He knows better than that." Which means he knows Jamie has a woman up here, so there's no way of getting out of Jamie's place without Tyler seeing you.

 "Just go, I'll be down in a second."

 Jamie comes up behind you, grabbing you quickly and kissing you. "Stop worrying about Tyler," he tells you when he finally ends the kiss because he knows you and knows that you just feel like you were caught by your parents instead of one of his friends. "I'll see you in a few seconds." You went back to the bathroom, to make yourself a bit more presentable, so you didn't hear the interaction between the two.

 Tyler was at the bottom of the stairs when Jamie got there. "What took you so long man? You got someone up there?" Jamie answered with a broad-ass grin that gave him away, without him even saying a word. "No shit! It's (Y/N) right?"

 "Of course, it's (Y/N). You know there's no one else for me." Tyler knew this but needed verbal confirmation from his best friend, before slapping him on the back.

 "Congrats bud, I don't know how you did it."

 "Fuck man me either." You chose that moment to head down the stairs.

 Jamie has his back to you, so it was Tyler that saw you first. "Hey Doc," he greeted you, with a little wink and your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You could see him take in your attire and the fact that you were wearing Jamie's clothes, which told him you'd spent the night, even though he didn't need to see your outfit to know that.

 "Hi Segs," you said using the nickname Jamie had used moments ago.

 "So…you kids have fun last night," he teased and now it just wasn't your cheeks that were turning bright red but Jamie's as well.

 "Shut up," Jamie told him, as he curled you into his side.

 "What? I was just asking. You know trying to be polite and all." No, he was fishing for information and you were not going to bite on that hook and supply it to him.

 "I really have to go." You told the two.

 "I'll grab my keys and run you over."

 "Jesus, Chubbs she only lives two doors down. I think she can make it there without you driving her."

 "Hardy har," Jamie faked chuckled. "I need to take her to Jessi's to get her purse, asshole." Tyler's face formed an 'O' comprehending why Jamie was offering to drive you.

 "It's ok. I can just run into my house and get my spare set of keys. You boys go workout." You made a move out of Jamie's embrace but he tightened his grip, pulling you so that your body was facing his.

 "You sure?"

 "Yeah, it's no biggie. I need to change and stuff anyway. I'll just stop on my way to the office."

 "I could take you now though if you want." Jamie insisted and you knew he was reluctant to let you go, probably scared that you wouldn't come back.

 "Jame, it's fine."

 "Yeah, Jame," Tyler mocked. "She's fine. You can watch her from the front porch while I make the protein shakes. I mean someone has to make them." Jamie glared at him.

 "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, or I'd kick your ass when we get on the ice."

 Tyler made a pretend scared face. "Oh, look at me shaking." He headed towards the kitchen and you had a feeling Jamie was going to check him into the boards hard during drills for that. "See ya tomorrow, doc."

 "Bye Tyler," you called then headed for the front door. "Why will I see him tomorrow?"

 "Oh, annual team picnic. I thought I told you."

 "You did, it slipped my mind." You probably would've remembered the minute you checked your schedule on your phone, which you needed to get. "What do you want me to bring?"

 "I want your cake," Tyler yelled from the room over and you heard him snicker.

 "You're not getting her cake," Jamie emphasized the word her and you realized they were no longer talking about the chocolate cake you took to Jordie and Jessi's. You buried your head in Jamie's chest.

 Tyler couldn't resist egging Jamie on. "But it's so sweet and moist and…"

 "I swear to god, Seguin, if you finish that sentence, you'll regret it." You tugged on Jamie's arm and headed toward the front door, hearing Tyler cackle as you made your way there.

 Jamie grudgingly opened the front door then for you to leave, stepping outside with you.

 "So, will I see you later tonight?" His hands were at your sides, sliding up and down under your shirt so he could feel your skin once last time.

 "I think that can be arranged. I'm thinking pizza, maybe a movie, maybe a little something else." You knew you were teasing him but then again after last night, it was going to be torture for you as well.

 "Sounds like heaven. My place or yours?"

 "Your place, there are still boxes everywhere in my house." It wasn't quite perfect yet, and it seemed like it wouldn't be for quite some time with how much you were over at Jamie's now. "I'll call you on my way home."

 "Ok." He pulled you closer to him, dropping kisses to your forehead and nose before, stealing your breath away with one to your lips. Thank goodness you both lived in a secluded neighborhood, and there weren't cars driving by watching this public display of affection.

 You ended the kiss sooner than either of you wanted. "I really have to go."

 "I know. I'll see you soon." He pecked your lips again, as you took a step back from his embrace, yet not completely out of it. "Tell Jessi I said hi."

 "I will." You gave him just one more kiss. "See you tonight." You started to walk away, your hands still laced until they were stretched so far you had no choice but to let go, only Jamie pulled you back one last time, his mouth hot on yours.

 "Bye baby," he finally breathed out and let you go. You could feel his heated gaze on you across the expanse of the lawn as you headed back to your house. This time you punched in the right code, opened the door and gave Jamie one last wave before heading inside.

 You threw on some makeup and then headed to Jessi's, where you knew that it would take longer than fifteen minutes, as she wanted to know exactly what happened with you and Jamie. Needless to say, she was ecstatic that the two of you were willing to give your relationship another chance. After an hour with Jessi, you took off for the office, telling her you'd see her tomorrow at Jamie's house for the Star's picnic.

 Fortunately, work went extremely fast and before you knew it, you were seeing your last patient for the day. After making a few last minutes notes, you headed to the hospital. Another doctor had done morning rounds, but since you were in the vicinity you decided to check up on some patients, including Noah. He was your first stop and you could hear laughter coming from his room, as you reached the nurse's station. "Someone sounds like they're in a good mood today." You commented to Shelly, one of the nurses that day.

 "Noah has a special visitor today." Laughter again filled the air, only this time you recognized more than just Noah's. "One of the big-name hockey players is there. You probably know him, or will soon enough." Oh, you knew him alright, had actually just left him earlier this morning. "I'm having a hard time keeping the other nurses out of Noah's room. I don't know how you do it being around all those gorgeous men."

 You gave her a little wink, as you headed to Noah's room. "It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it." Shelly was right, there were three other nurses in Noah's room watching him play a video game with Jamie. "Well, someone seems to be doing pretty well today." It was kind of funny to watch the nurses scramble out of the room as if they'd been caught drooling over a hockey star.

 "Hi, Dr. (Y/LN)," Noah said with a huge smile on his face. "Look who came to see me. It's Jamie Benn, the Jamie Benn. You know from the Dallas Stars." He was rambling and it was really quite cute, but what was even more adorable was seeing Jamie sitting there having a blast with him.

 "I see that. Hello Mr. Benn. I'm surprised to see you here."

 "Hey (Y/N)…I mean Dr. (Y/LN). Thought I'd stop by and visit one of the Stars' biggest fans." Jamie winked at you and your heart melted that he would be so considerate to drop by and spend time with Noah.

 "Jamie brought me a signed jersey and a puck, oh and the latest Xbox system too." Had you not already consigned yourself to giving your relationship with Jamie another chance, this alone would make you do it. The man knew the way to your heart. He could buy you all the flowers in Dallas and they would mean nothing compared to what he'd just done to brighten this little boy's day. "Oh, and he said when I get out of here, I can watch him play. Like, go to a real game and everything."

 "Only when Dr. (Y/N) gives you the ok," Jamie added, scoring yet another point in his favor. At this rate, he'd be the Conn Smythe trophy winner of your heart in no time.

 "Well, if you keep healing as well as you are, you'll be at that game in no time. Now, do you have a minute so I can check you out, and then I'll let you get back to that game." You examined him rather quickly, but everything seemed to be healing perfectly. Another week or so and he would be out of the hospital, though it would be quite a bit longer before he was heading to a hockey game. "Alright, well I'll check back in with you on Monday. Now, make sure you don't go easy here on Mr. Benn."

 "I won't. See you soon."

 You stepped out of the hospital room, only to hear Jamie tell Noah he'd be back in a minute. "Hey (Y/N), we still on for tonight?"

 "Of course," you told him; how could you not be after everything he did for Noah. "Jame, I…I don't know how to thank you for everything you did for him. That was…" You felt yourself getting choked up. Last night, you told him that you were willing to give him a shot and now today you wanted to jump in with both feet first, because damn if you didn't feel like you were falling in love with him.

 "It's really nothing. I honestly didn't think you'd be here." Did he think that you wouldn't find out? If so that made you just love him a little more. "He's a good kid, and it was a sucky thing that happened to him. You're the one who did all the hard stuff."

 "Don't discredit what you did. It means a lot." He slid his hands to your waist then, yet stopped for fear you'd not approve. Instead of reprimanding him though, you looped your arms around his neck. "And I plan on showing you just how grateful I am when I get to your place."

 His eyebrows picked up, making his eyes like huge silver dollars. "Well, I won't argue with that." You kissed him quickly there in the hospital hallway before you could change your mind and you knew that not only Shelly, but the other three nurses had to see you, but you didn't really care.

 "I've got a few more patients to see then I'm heading out. See you soon."

 "Yeah, I'm just going to play one more game, then I'm going too." Pulling him down, you pecked his lips one last time, before letting him go. "I'll see you at home, babe." He released you then headed back into Noah's room, as you made your way down the hall to stares from all the nurses. You simply shrugged then kept on going until you were at the next patient's room.

 Two hours later, you were standing on Jamie's front porch ringing the doorbell. "I thought I said to just come in, the door would be unlocked," he told you as he opened the front door, yet made no move to let you in.

 "I know you did, but it…" you didn't finish the rest as Jamie's hands slid down the globes of your ass to grab it. "Jame," you shrieked and jumped into his arms exactly as he planned. He lifted you so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him, then he kicked the door closed.

 "I missed you," he told you before his lips found yours and he carried you into the living room.

 "You just saw me a couple hours ago."

 "Mmm…doesn't mean I can't miss you." He was kissing you again as he sat down on the couch and really who were you to complain about it when you'd been missing him as well. Which is how you found yourself kissing him back. It was a half-hour before Jamie's stomach decided that food took precedence over making out. You ordered pizza just as you promised Jamie that morning, then put on a movie, which ended up being background noise as neither of you could keep your hands off the other. It was just like being back in high school all over again. Only this time, there was no one to interrupt you, as Jamie led you upstairs to his bedroom, where you spent the rest of the night and the next morning in a mess of naked bodies and tangled limbs.

 It wasn't until late in the morning that you finally headed back to your house to get ready for the picnic. Jamie had called you three times, while you got ready asking when you'd be back over, but you didn't want it to seem like you'd been there all day and all night, even though you had, so you waited until a few teammates had shown up before heading over. There were actually more people there than you thought, and you had a hard time finding Jamie when you first got there.

 Jessi spotted you first. "Hey (Y/N)," she said embracing you in a big hug. "I'm actually surprised you weren't here when I came."

 "Thought I'd let a few people get here before, so it didn't look too bad."

 "If you're worried about his teammates, don't. They're all really great." She must have sensed there was something more, because she added, "And they won't care that you're dating. Actually, they'll all probably be as excited as I am for you two."

 Her words made heat rise to your face. "I'm just worried being the team doctor and all. Plus, I don't even know if we are dating. We haven't really talked about it."

 "Oh, you're dating. He practically said as much when I asked him."

 "When did you talk to him?" You had to know since Jamie hadn't said anything to you and the two of you had spent the last sixteen hours together.

 "When I came here early, hoping that you'd be here and I could drill you both together." Jessi was grinning ear to ear though you knew behind that smile she was dying to play twenty questions with you and Jamie together. You'd have to ask how Jamie faired on his own. "The man is smitten with you, (Y/N). I've known him for a long time and I haven't seen him this happy…ever." It had honestly been a long time since you'd been this happy as well. She grabbed you in a hug then whispered to you. "Stop worrying. Jamie's not going to do anything to screw this up. Trust me." Strangely, you did trust her and would definitely miss her when she headed off to Vancouver.

 "Thank you."

 "And quit worrying about the team. They all love you and it's not like there's some rule against them dating anyone in the organization. I know for a fact Tyler's dated one if not two of the ice girls, before what's her name." Why did that not surprise you. Jessi looped her arm through yours then. "Now, let's go find a drink. I feel like drinking tonight." Which is exactly what the two of you did. The shot of tequila Jessi made you do at first, definitely had you relaxing a bit more. You met almost all of the guys; who were all incredibly sweet as were most of their significant others. The only reason you said most was because Sara was there with Caitlyn in tow. Their disdain for you was quite obvious, as you saw them whispering anytime Jamie was around you.

 Jamie, for his part, kept things at a lower key, thank goodness. His touches were subtle, just a hand at the small of your back every now and then, or entwining your fingers together every so often when he thought you needed a small reassurance with one of his teammates. Just those tiny gestures sent chills up and down your spine. Though you both kept the PDA to a minimum, Jamie was still attentive, always making sure that you had a drink in your hand or something to eat.

 The party was in full swing within a few hours of starting. You made your way to the downstairs powder room, only to see one of the younger players, Hintz you thought, push through people to get there first. You didn't need to have the letters MD behind your name to know that he'd had one too many shots and was currently throwing up the contents of the barbeque as well as the alcohol he'd drank into Jamie's toilet. Hopefully, the kid had good aim, as you did not want to be cleaning up that mess later, for though you'd taken an oath to treat the sick it did not include wiping up puke from the bathroom floor. Giving him an IV full of fluids in the morning was more your speed.

 You turned on your heel and headed upstairs to Jamie's en suite. The second floor was much quieter than the downstairs as no one seemed to be venturing up there. You were just heading out of the bedroom when you heard voices outside the door.

 "I'm not really sure why you dragged me here to this party Sara." You'd recognize Caitlyn's whiny voice anywhere.

 "I thought you were interested in Jamie."

 "I am…I mean I was…but he's not even paying attention to me." You could almost see her arms crossed as she pouted even though you were on the other side of the door. "Who cares. Everyone knows that he doesn't eat pussy. He's probably lousy in bed." You clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble out. Jamie most definitely went down on women, in fact, it was just this morning that he had eaten you out not once but twice.

 You should've made yourself known, but instead, you listened as you heard Tyler's girlfriend respond. "That was just some silly tweet from years ago. He's probably changed since then."

 "It doesn't really matter either way. He seems to only be paying any attention to that doctor." She fairly spat the word doctor out as if it had some disgusting taste on her tongue.

  "I'm telling you Tyler told me himself that Jamie is just using her." Wait, what had Sara just said? That Jamie was using you? "Jamie told him yesterday that he's just pretending to be into her so that he can get her fired. He even went to the owner to talk to him about it." Bile rose in the back of your throat and suddenly you wanted to join Hintz in offering up the contents of your stomach. Was Jamie really just using you again? Had the last forty-eight hours all been some elaborate scheme just to get you out of the Stars organization? Jessi had mentioned earlier that there weren't any rules against dating but maybe she'd been wrong. "He told Tyler that he was just going to do what he did in high school to get rid of her." Well, he'd certainly done that, only this time he'd slept with you more than once before discarding you. How could you have been so blind to trust him again?

 "Really?" It was Caitlyn's question but the word was also running through your brain. Would Jamie really do this?

 "Yes, really! Now come on, let's go back downstairs so you can flirt with Jamie." With a click of their heels, the two set off.

 Tears started to roll down your face, just as they had all those years ago. Only this time you angrily swiped them away. You tried to tell yourself that it didn't hurt, that you'd guarded your heart against a moment just like this, but as the tears seemed to keep flowing you had to admit that it felt just as bad at this moment as it did fourteen years ago. Wrong again. It felt worse. For somehow in just this short amount of time, you'd let your heart get attached once again. You needed to get out of here. You couldn't be in this house any longer. Everything was a blur as you flew down the stairs and out the front door. You didn't stop for anyone or anything as you headed for the safety of your home.

.

[the--sad--hatter]

Punch-Drunk - Chapter One (Loki x Reader)

Pairing - Loki x Reader, But there’s some flirting with other characters

Warnings - Loki, Violence, Magically Altered-Behaviour, Injuries, Blood, Swearing, smut, second-hand embarrassment, some angst, a metric fuckton of chaos.

Summary/Excerpt -

“She took a combined blast of Wanda AND Loki’s magic, straight to the head. It’s left her a little… well, let’s be polite and say ‘discombobulated’.” Sam explained, the fidgety way he was bouncing from foot to foot betraying how uncharacteristically nervous he was.

“Jesus. She took a blast from both of them, and she’s still standing?” Tony hissed, wincing in sympathy.

“Standing is a generous term.” Clint scoffed, striding into the room in time to catch Tony’s question.

“How is she?” Steve asked.

“Bruce is checking her over, but I don’t need his diagnosis to tell you that her brains been scrambled six ways to Sunday.” Clint sighed.

Series Masterlist

Chapter One - Discombobulate

It seemed like no matter how many Hyrdra cells, AIM bases, rouge Inhumans, or corrupt politicians they took down, every day there was a fresh crop of threats to be dealt with. Like it was a never-ending cycle. Thankfully, The Avengers were always ready to tackle the problem, and there were enough of them that they could spilt up into teams when it was necessary. So while Steve, Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Thor, and Vision had been dismantling the corrupt government of a small European country, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, Loki, and you had been tearing down an AIM base in Northern Canada.

 The first team had returned first, and spent the next day and night waiting for the rest of The Avengers to come home. As soon as he got word that the Quinjet was nearby, Steve was in the Hanger, pacing around like a worried mother waiting for her kids to come back from their first day at school.

 From the second the team disembarked the Quinjet, it was painfully obvious that the mission hadn’t gone to plan. Bucky was the first to come down the ramp, walking so quickly he was all but running, brushing past Steve without meeting his eyes.

 “Buck?”

“M’fine, debrief later.” Bucky muttered, high-tailing it into the compound.

 His instinct was to follow Bucky, but he knew better. His friend wasn’t injured, that much was obvious. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something pertinent, and he needed to see the rest of the team was alright before he went and chased down his oldest friend.

 Sam and Wanda were the next one’s down the ramp, his arm slung across her shoulders as he murmured something to her with a serious expression on his face. The young woman nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath and offering Steve a small smile as she hurried past him.

 “What happened?” Steve asked as Sam came to stand next to him.

 “It’s a long story.” Sam said wearily.

 Loki followed next, uncharacteristically quiet, taking his time as he sauntered over. The pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place as the last figure disembarked the Quinjet, Clint stepped onto the ramp, carefully balancing you in his arms.

 “She dozed off. I’m taking her to Bruce.” Clint whispered, cautious not to disturb you.

 Steve swallowed thickly, peering down at your sleeping face. There were no obvious signs of injury, no blood, but that didn’t calm him down. He quickly stepped ahead of Clint to open the hanger doors, Sam and Loki following, Sam diligently, Loki begrudgingly.

 “Sam?” Steve prompted as Clint peeled off from the group, carrying you towards Banner’s lab.

 Sam nodded and stepped into the nearest empty room, a briefing room, where he lowered himself into a chair, face betraying the heavy exhaustion settling in. Loki promptly found a corner and melted into the shadows, close enough to be a part of the team, far enough away to keep his distance. Just like the god had been doing since the day Thor had brought him to the compound and he and Banner had made a case for Loki to begin making amends.

 “What the hell happened, I just saw Clint going into Banner’s lab with Scooby!” Tony demanded, bursting into the room.

 Even when he was worried about you, he just couldn’t drop the canine nicknames. Between your honed tracking skills, loyal disposition, and constant palatable excitement, you were (at least according to Tony) a puppy dog.

 “Mission was a success, we took down the base and disabled that branch of AIM, but there were some complications.” Sam explained.

 “What kind of complications?” Steve asked calmly, cutting across Tony’s worried squawking.

 “Wanda and Loki were working together, using magic to keep the main cluster of guards occupied while the rest of us picked them off, but…” He paused, gathering to his feet and pacing.

 “But?” Tony pressed.

 “She took a combined blast of Wanda AND Loki’s magic, straight to the head. It’s left her a little… well, let’s be polite and say ‘discombobulated’.” Sam explained, the fidgety way he was bouncing from foot to foot betraying how uncharacteristically nervous he was.

 “Jesus. She took a blast from both of them, and she’s still standing?” Tony hissed, wincing in sympathy.

 “Standing is a generous term.” Clint scoffed, striding into the room in time to catch Tony’s question.

 “How is she?” Steve asked.

 “Bruce is checking her over, but I don’t need his diagnosis to tell you that her brains been scrambled six ways to Sunday.” Clint sighed. “Banner’s got her calmed down now, but she wouldn’t let him look her over at first. Thankfully, he figured out a way to get her to comply.”

 “Do we want to know?” The Captain asked nervously.

 Despite the evident worry in his eyes, Clint sniggered. “Depends, do you know how to play Simon Says?”

 “Damn, wish we’d thought of that in the Quinjet.” Sam cursed.

 “What?” Steve frowned.

 “She wouldn’t calm down in the quinjet, had to bribe her with a candy bar. Which she ate, and then cried cause the wrapper was lonely.” Sam explained sagely, shaking his head fondly.

 “The she forgot how her zipper worked, and when Wanda showed her she thought it was the pinnacle of human invention. Ran around showing everybody, accidentally flashed Barnes.” Clint said with great difficulty, nearly bursting with the effort of containing his laughter.

 “You’ve yet to explain how this happened.” Tony reminded, rounding on Loki. “You! Did you do this on purpose?”

 The lanky god looked up at them as if surprised to realise they were still in the room, as if he hadn’t been listening intently to every word said.

 “Be sensible. If I were going to inflict this on one of you tedious mortals, I wouldn’t have chosen her.” Loki drawled, rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck.

 “It wasn’t his fault Stark. She was pushed into the path of the blasts by a Security Guard.” Sam defended.

 Loki looked taken aback for a brief second before he schooled his featured back into a look of cold disinterest.

 “Well how bad is it? Loki? What’s it doing to her?” Steve asked levelly.

 “I do not know. A blast from one of us can incapacitate someone, but combined? There’s no telling what effects it may have, or how long they will last.” Loki admitted.

 “Bruce’ll be able to tell us more.” Tony hissed, hurrying from the room, the rest of the group following.

 “So Bucky?” Steve murmured, tilting his head so he could whisper to Sam.

 “He’s fine, he just saw more than he bargained for on the Quinjet.” Sam assured, lips twitching.

 Tony burst into the lab without preamble, approaching Bruce who didn’t even bother looking up from the bright hologram he was studying.

 “Where is she?” Steve asked, looking around for you.

 “Next door, I’m scanning her brain.” Bruce explained curtly, nodding to the hologram.

 “Wait, is that her actual brain?” Clint asked, stuck halfway between intrigued and wigged out.

 “Not her actual, actual brain Clint, it’s a 3D scan of her brain. If you look here…” Bruce said, using his pen to point out a particular spot on the hologram, “That’s the limbic system of the brain, it’s where most of our, in this case her, behaviour is decided. Only in this case, it’s not functioning as it should be. There’s some, uh, unusual activity.”

 “Of the magical variety?” Steve guessed.

 “In a way. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I can’t be certain without more tests, but from the information I do have, I hypothesize that Wanda’s powers of mental manipulation are lingering and fluctuating in her brain due to the interference from Loki’s magic. Let’s say on a normal day, Wanda’s abilities are like a dust, settling over the mind. Adding Loki’s abilities into the mix appears to have turned those dust particles into darts. Wanda’s power made a deeper impact, and left some injuries. Except of course, this is metaphysical and not tangible. Her brain is injured, but not physically.”

 “Is she in pain?” Steve asked sharply.

 “No, the damage is contained to the Limbic System, so the side-effects are mostly emotional. She’s a little scared and somewhat confused, but easily distracted from it all. Too easily distracted actually, critical thinking skills are impaired, emotional responses are heightened, short-term memory comes and goes in bursts. It’s almost as if she’s…” He trailed off, frowning at the hologram as it flickered, and the sputtered out of existence.

 “Oh no.”

 “What is it?” Loki demanded, pressing forwards, shouldering Sam and Clint out of the way.

 “Simon said stay still! You’re supposed to stay still!” Bruce called, rushing from the room without answering Loki.

You were upright at least, much to Steve’s relief. Upright and furious. You whirled round as they entered, your eyes zeroing in on Steve with determined purpose.

 “’Teve! Stark pushed me!” You wailed, voice wavering with emotion, eye’s filled with the pain of betrayal.

 “Uh… Friday?” Tony scoffed, watching you with curiosity and wariness in equal measure.

 “I believe she is referring to the incident a few moments ago, where she walked into one of your Iron Suits and rebounded off of it. She’s been arguing with it since, seemingly convinced you were inside it.” Friday elaborated.

 Clint immediately made a swift exit from the room, his face an alarming shade of red. You ignored everyone else in the room and made a beeline for Steve, eyes lit up with determination.

 “Get him!” You demanded, screeching to a halt just before your face made a violent connection with Steve’s body.

 Steve’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing, to a perplexed Tony.

 “Sweetheart, no.” Steve sighed softly, trying to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder, huffing in frustration when you wriggled out of reach.

 “Why are you asking Cap to do it, you’re a superhero, get him yourself.” Sam suggested, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

 You went cross-eyed, trying to make sense of Sam’s words while Steve and Tony levelled him with twin glares of exasperation.

 “Oh yeah! I am, I have GUNS!” You screeched giddily.

 As your hands dived under your shirt, everyone else moved in perfect unison. First there was the widening of the eyes as they realised what you’d said, and then they all dove forward, arm’s outstretched towards you. Somehow, somehow, your discombobulated self managed to evade the grasp of four highly capable superhero’s, and the gun you’d wrangled out of it’s holster came into view.

 “I’ll take that.” Loki sighed, plucking it out of your hand and sending it who knows where in a flash of green light.

 Steve rocked back on his heels, relief coursing through his veins.

 “She was going to shoot me!” Tony gasped, sounding more offended than worried.

 You ignored them all in favour of staring at Loki in absolute awe, eyes lit up from within with a sense of wonder.

 “Magic!” You breathed out, bespelled by the god of mischief.

 “Tony, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Like I said, she has no critical thinking skills. Her emotions are heightened and unpredictable, and she’s reacting instinctively to what she feels.” Bruce reminded, defending you from the appalled pout on Tony’s face by standing between you both.

 “Bruce! Brucie! Did you see that? He did magic!” You screeched, still not taking your eyes off of Loki.

 The blank look on Loki’s face slowly melted into something definitively warmer, and he damn near almost preened at your palatable excitement.

 “It was a simple enough trick, I simply sent it elsewhere.” He shrugged casually, watching you carefully as you grinned up at him.

 “Can you do it again?” You demanded, grabbing the nearest object and handing it to him.

 “Wait!” Tony yelped as Loki took the object from you, but it was gone in a flash. “That was a prototype.” He finished, shoulders slumping. “Bruce, how long will she be like this?”

 “I don’t know yet, or if we can reverse it.” Bruce admitted, peering down at a tablet he’d plucked off of his desk, frowning at it. “But I got enough information from the brief scan to tell one thing.”

 “What is it?” Sam asked, watching you as you skipped through the lab, Loki trailing after you with a rare, genuine smile on his face.

 There were multiple flashes of green as you tossed things at your new best friend, clapping joyfully as he made them disappear. Bruce looked up from the tablet, a grim look on his face.

 “It’s getting worse. She’s getting, for lack of a better term, drunker.”

A/N - This is more of a prologue than a first chapter. The rest of the series will be mostly set from Loki’s POV. 

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[stillness-in-green]

Ahistorical, Absurd, and Unsustainable (Part Four and Conclusion)

An Examination of the Mass Arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front Introduction and Part One Part Two Part Three

PART FOUR: Thematic Problems

For all that portions of the Western fandom look at the MLA and see Evil Quirk Eugenicists and Hypocritical Ultra-Rich, they had legitimate complaints, and their goals, while overly radical if taken to their logical extremes—see Geten[51]—still offer a way to address a huge number of the problems this society faces. Locking them up and throwing away the key is shutting off one of the most prominent angles on addressing those issues. Consider:

The Problem of Heroics

Quirk-based prejudice is real, and a huge amount of it is based in the hero/villain dichotomy. This isn’t surprising; when you set up a group of people as “heroes,” it follows logically, linguistically, naturally that the people they fight must be villains. Villains are bad, are evil, are black-and-white figures with no motivation worth considering. Toss them in jail; who cares? They earned being in there with their Bad Actions. But that kind of thinking is insidious—it spreads.

If someone looks like a villain, if someone has a bad quirk, they may well be a Bad Seed. And if they aren’t, well, the responsibility is on them to rise above that prejudice, to become better than the people around them think they can be—but no one asks the people around them to maybe stop being so damn prejudicial all the time.

A horrifyingly stark example shows up in Chapter 310, in which a woman is being attacked by a group of three men for no reason save that they think she looks like a villain, so they assume she must be a villain. Her obvious villain trait? She’s a heteromorph—unusually tall, with a vulpine face. That’s it. She’s not dressed in a threatening or antisocial style; she’s not aggressive or angry. She’s just a heteromorph who didn’t go to a shelter right away because she thought things would calm down if she waited it out.

Love Midoriya following this up with, “I bet they were just scared too.” Way to chase an aggression with a micro-aggression there, hero. (Chapter 310)

Of course, tensions are running high right now, higher than would ever be the case under normal circumstances, but even in “normal circumstances,” this uncomfortable bias persists. Consider Class 1-A’s Shoji: Shoji wears a mask because he's a gentle soul who doesn’t want to scare small children, but maybe instead, people should be teaching their kids not to judge by appearances? Then maybe their kids wouldn’t grow up to be the kinds of people who attack others for looking a little scary and not going to sufficient pains to hide it?

As far as bad quirks go, meanwhile, Shinsou is the classic example on the hero side. He was told by classmates, laughingly, that he had a good quirk for a villain; he carries himself at all times like he’s got something to prove. I suspect the only reason he’s at U.A. and not running with the League of Villains is a supportive home life,[52] but either way, people are all too ready to apply a villain label to him based on an ability that was nothing but genetic lottery, and that’s because the existence of heroes defines itself by the existence of villains.

Of course, the otherization of villains and people-who-kind-of-seem-like-they-might-be-villains is only part of the problem. The other and frankly larger issue is the effect that limiting quirk use to heroes-only has on the cultural mindset—heroes, villains, and civilians alike.

Japan in real life fosters a sense of community support so profound that children as young as four can be sent on small errands[53] around the neighborhood, safe in the knowledge that if they need help, they will be able to get that help. It’s far more common for young children to walk or take public transit to school than it is in the U.S. Another example is the country’s enthusiastic embrace of publicly available AED machines, complete with easy-to-understand printed and audio instructions about how to use them on people suffering heart attacks, a movement that has saved the lives of many who might not have otherwise survived long enough for an ambulance to arrive.

In My Hero Academia’s Japan, though?

You wind up with people who don't even particularly want to become heroes enrolling in hero schools anyway because it's the only way they can imagine contributing to society. Uraraka and Gran Torino are obvious examples—Uraraka becoming a hero less because she felt a calling to and more because it seemed like the best way to ameliorate her family’s hardscrabble lot in life; Torino getting a hero license not because he cared about being a hero at all, but because he was in on the One For All situation and needed to be able to use his quirk freely to help fight that secret war.

An even more telling case is that of the main character himself. Midoriya desperately wanted to “save” people, and from all the evidence we have in the early manga, as far as he was concerned, the only way for him to do that was to become a hero. He never even considered e.g. signing up for any volunteer programs around his neighborhood or joining the police. It’s like he never even considered the possibility of helping people via other channels.

And this is a consistent issue! People who don't think that they can become heroes train themselves (and are trained by society) into believing that they are powerless, that it isn’t their responsibility to help when they see trouble, leading to things like Shimura Tenko's “long walk,” where countless people look at a child of five, bloody and alone, and then make the conscious decision to look away, because “a hero will help.”

Hell, it even spills over onto actual heroes, who in the first chapter stand around like chumps waiting for “someone with a better quirk” to come and do something about the sludge villain, because they don’t have the perfect quirk to solve the problem themselves, so they don’t even try.

Of course, even if they did try, it might not be welcomed. Consider cases where people wanted to do good, like Gentle Criminal or Vigilantes' Koichi, but had their road to heroism blocked—this led them to villainy or vigilantism, which in turn can lead to arrest and possible prison time, with all the attendant stigma.

Restricting quirk use to heroes-only has impacts beyond just how it distorts people’s desire to help, too. Evidence in the manga suggests that some people feel a stronger biological drive to use their quirks than others. What options do those people have, then, if their quirks—or their personalities—don’t seem naturally cut out for heroism?

In Tamaki Amajiki’s flashback in Chapter 140, a teacher tells his class, “People make fine use of their quirks at any number of jobs. Being a hero’s not the only option. How will you be useful to society in the future? That’s what we’re here to explore in quirk training.” This is the scene in the manga that most explicitly tells us that other avenues for quirk use exist, but we’re never once shown what those avenues might be. At best, this suggests that those avenues are drastically limited (e.g. only available to those whose quirks are deemed “useful to society”) and/or poorly explained to people in-universe—else why would Uraraka have chosen heroism despite her lack of interest in it if she could have just gotten some kind of job license for her quirk? At worst, it’s an example of Horikoshi throwing in a line that contradicts the surrounding canon. Either way, we’re left with people who feel a strong drive to use their quirks being pressured into heroism or straying into villainy for lack of other acceptable outlets.

All of these issues could be mitigated by less draconian restrictions on quirks—which Destro's followers are the only characters in the manga we've actively seen pushing for, rather than just heard about second-hand—and by not using an ideologically charged word like “heroes” to describe a glorified independent police force. Allowing people to freely use their quirks[54] means fewer people being pushed into a heroics job they're unsuited for, means fewer people being pushed into villainy, means a more rounded view on how quirks can be used, leading to less quirk-based prejudice and less—well, let’s talk some about false dichotomies.

All For Nothing, Nothing For All

Shigaraki stands as a fundamental accusation of the way the hero/civilian dynamic exacerbates the Bystander Effect, making people think of themselves as powerless, while at the same time putting untenable pressure on heroes to be perfect victory machines who don't experience pain or doubt or weakness. He further attests that this dynamic pushes out people who don't fit either category—victim or hero—making them villains. This is one of the fundamental thematic conflicts of the series—is one hero enough? Are heroes themselves enough? What are heroes, what do they fight, and what should they be fighting? Who deserves to be “saved” and what does it mean, anyway, to “save” someone? What happens to the people who aren’t saved? How will the world grapple with the consequences, the resentment, that stem from that failure?

In his work Underground, written to grapple with and criticize the way Japanese media covered the sarin gas attacks, author Murakami Haruki talked about the response to the incident being to call the members of Aum Shinrikyo evil, insane, diseased, other. They were spoken of as a monstrous fringe that could not have been predicted, about which nothing could have been done, rather than examined as bright, well-educated young people who by all accounts ought to have had good futures ahead of them but instead spiraled down into a doomsday cult. Murakami asserted that, because the Japanese public was unwilling to ask how and why that happened, was unwilling to self-examine, the country was locking itself into a repeating cycle. Memorably, he wrote, “Most Japanese seem ready to pack up the whole incident in a trunk labeled THINGS OVER AND DONE WITH,” to describe this resolute incuriosity, the strong aversion to looking into the face of evil and trying to find the humanity within it.

In this post and its follow-up, tumblr user @robotlesbianjavert discusses the problems that stem from that exact tendency as portrayed in My Hero Academia. She says, “Only making decisions that benefit the greater good is not the real solution that the narrative is rooting for. Not so long as it fails to recognize and address the needs of the victims that still come of it.” Hero Society will never stop creating its own villains so long as, every time it fails people, it does nothing but shrug and write off the victims as unavoidable, inevitable sacrifices for the greater good.

I would also like to highlight her point—which I hope she one day posts her own full essay on—about the way All For One and One For All serve as two extreme poles of equally unsustainable visions for society. This dynamic is all over the manga.

There are the characters of AFO and his younger brother themselves, each forever locked in battle to prove the correctness of his own way of thinking, and forever talking past the other even when they’re face to face.

There’s the contrast of heroes, giving their all to help strangers even when it hurts the people they love, with villains, giving their all to help the people they love even when it hurts strangers.

The flaws in the One For All model can be seen in the multilayered ravages it inflicted on All Might physically, emotionally, and socially. Thus, one for all is not always ideal.

The strengths of the All For One model can be seen in a team of heroes and police combining their efforts and will to help one single person—Eri. Nighteye even highlights this with his speech about everyone’s efforts coalescing into Midoriya and helping him to “twist fate.” Thus, all for one is not always about selfishness.

Once you start looking for it, this duality shows up everywhere, and I think—I hope—it’s an angle Horikoshi is conscious of. The obvious solution is that the extremes of this society are all undesirable—that total selflessness and total selfishness are equally unsustainable, and both are, ultimately, damaging. A more holistic approach is needed, yet if a holistic approach is what the manga ultimately proves to be seeking, it makes the mass arrest of the PLF particularly problematic, if it’s allowed to stand unchallenged. You cannot just choose not to see 115,000 dissatisfied people—some way or another, you have to reckon with them, and if you don’t do it in a way that actually helps them address whatever their core problem is, you’re just setting yourself up for more of the same further down the line.

The MLA believed that they were fighting for a just cause, for freedom, for the future. They absolutely had issues—Geten’s words indicate that much—but they were issues that would have been much better addressed by actually challenging them openly, rather than suppressing them. If they couldn’t get society to agree right away that the use of one’s quirk should be as unregulated as the use of one’s hands, maybe they would have accepted a tiered license approach to quirk use as a good starting compromise. If they wanted totally unhindered quirk use, such that people could murder with impunity? Well, that would never have gotten past the House of Representatives, but maybe a bill declaring that crimes committed by quirks should be treated no differently than crimes committed via any other means would have. A weeklong debate on the Diet floor would have stood a much greater chance of e.g. addressing the needs of the quirkless than the MLA alone would have bothered with.

The MLA didn’t get to have that kind of debate. Instead, they ran headfirst into Shigaraki Tomura, who made them far more dangerous. And yet… For all that Shigaraki twisted them, he didn’t change them so much that Re-Destro couldn’t still see the light of his ideals within them. Furthermore, even though the PLF didn’t win the battle we call the War Arc, it may be that they’re well on their way to winning the actual war.

“The Seeds Are Already Sown”

So what did the PLF actually want? Well, we have a few sources on that—Shigaraki’s desire to destroy “everything,” the cloned Re-Destro’s vision of liberation through “order without order,” and so forth. But a very instructive place to look is Hawks’ doomsaying in Chapter 258. While the PLF is a bit too scattered or imprisoned to appreciate it, a shocking number of the things Hawks laid out for the audience have actually come about, even if they didn’t happen exactly as the PLF planned. Consider:

Bring down the status quo by annihilating all heroes. Heroes—a number of whom died the day of the raid—are retiring in mass numbers. As the manga describes it, they are “being put through a sieve.” They certainly haven’t all been annihilated, but the ones remaining are having to do the work with little in the way of thanks or glory—the false heroes Stain spoke of have left the table.

They plan to attack all major cities at once throughout the nation. Gigantomachia stampeded over more than twenty cities in the space of less than an hour. A bunch of them were surely not major cities, but all the same, it was a rampage that caught the heroes almost completely off-guard (because they were all tied up arresting the PLF and didn’t think Machia would be an issue), leading to massive collateral damage and unspeakable loss of life.

With society brought to a lawless standstill… Thanks to AFO’s prison breaks, a bunch of villains are now out there raising hell to their hearts’ content, and there aren’t enough heroes around to always respond in a timely fashion. They’re having to open up schools as shelter zones, evacuating entire cities, which the common people respond to predictably poorly, leading to groups of people who were not previously villainous deciding to take the law into their own hands.

…Re-Destro and the Hearts & Minds Party will storm the political world. In Chapter 297, the less openly fascist guard worries that the remaining factions of the HMP[55] will still be stirring up trouble on the political front, especially given the enormous wave of brand-new complaints about human rights violations that he doubtlessly figured were incoming.

They will distribute weapons and extol the virtues of self-defense, calling it true freedom. Whether Detnerat picked up the pace of its black-market support goods sales, bankrolled Giran doing the same, or some other groups—yakuza, perhaps—stepped up, we already know that there are weapons and support goods circulating throughout society, and that people are using them for self-defense.

These people will throw the world into chaos and enthrone Shigaraki atop the rubble. The second coming of All For One. Far more so than anyone in the PLF would have wanted, this one has come horribly true with the AFO vestige’s possession of Shigaraki.[56]

While it is perhaps karmic that the PLF is in no position to enjoy the fruits of their villainous efforts, it’s striking how much of what they wanted has come about anyway. And how much of this can really be undone or wound back? Complete societal breakdown isn’t the kind of genie you can easily rebottle, and this, I think, is particularly illustrated by the civilians Yo and Tatami encounter in Chapter 307.

I’d like to wind this essay down by zooming in on that encounter somewhat.

The group of people the Ketsubutsu pair encounter in 307 are not nice, but neither are they violent. Having, like so many others, lost faith in heroes to protect them, they want only to protect their hometown and for heroes to leave them be. They’ve fended off a few small-time villain attacks and are bluntly uninterested in cooperating with condescending heroes (an impression Yo is not helping to mitigate) who have done nothing but disappoint them.

The spokesman in particular feels to me like someone who’s suffered a significant personal loss. The shadow over his eyes here is telling. (Chapter 307)

When Muscular shows up, they are 100% ready to put their lives where their mouths are. They are all in the process of charging outside, first to stop their town from suffering more damage, then to back up a hero kid they just got done telling to buzz off. And you know? It’s possible—probable, even!—that Muscular would have murdered every last one of them, and them charging in to fight him would have led to a horrific tragedy, one more to stack atop the pile.

And yet, while the narrative doesn’t allow them to actually assist,[57] neither does it entirely rebuke them, in the end. When all is said and done, the civilians agree to hear Tatami and Yo out, and they help Tatami get Yo inside for medical attention. The leader is a little abashed, but he doesn’t bow his head and admit to being wrong; his group doesn’t meekly submit to being herded to shelter. And that’s because the narrative is—wisely—unwilling to say that they’re wrong.

After all, how could it?

Midoriya Izuku and the jaded civilian's instincts. (Chapters 1 and 307)

For a last comparison, remember that in the first chapter, Midoriya Izuku—quirkless, untrained Midoriya Izuku—dove into a fight he had no way of winning, no way of even affecting. All he was doing was endangering himself and making the sludge villain even harder to target. Still, All Might and the narrative alike praised him for his action, because it was driven by a “desire to save.” In Chapter 307, a group of undertrained civilians witnesses a high school boy being attacked by the highest tier of villain their society knows, a Tartarus escapee, a gleeful and unrepentant serial killer with a devastatingly powerful quirk. Their response is to gather up their weapons and numbers and dive in to try and help. Regardless of the weakness of their quirks, regardless of their lack of training, regardless of the danger to their lives, their instinct is the same as Midoriya’s was back then—“the desire to save.”

How could the narrative possibly tell us that they're wrong?

And if they aren’t wrong, this group of people who are so very close to the vision the PLF had for the world after their revolution, the narrative simply cannot expect to retain the slightest hint of credibility if it tries to tell us that the PLF are worth nothing more than an authorial handwave and the slamming of a cell door.

Conclusion

What we are seeing in the manga now is a society that is fumbling towards a new way. It isn’t perfect; it has a lot of wrinkles to iron out. Yet in some ways, if this is a society that has gone back in time, it is also a society that has a chance to chart a different path forward than it did before, a more inclusive path, a more balanced one. Heroes can still exist in the same way that surgeons and emergency responders exist, but that doesn't mean people throw their first aid kits in the garbage.

People protest that untrained civilians using their quirks leads to collateral damage, and that's true. The same would be true, however, if a nation that relied solely on public transit suddenly faced the total breakdown of that system and found that, if they wanted to get anywhere farther than walking distance, they had to get behind the wheel of a car and drive there themselves with no previous experience handling a motor vehicle. With some basic training, or perhaps a test and associated license that is as ubiquitous as a driver's license, how much of the collateral damage caused by civilians fighting might be reduced? How might people feel more empowered to act when necessary?

I very much want to see that future in the manga. It will feel terribly bitter, however, if the people who always believed in that future the most don’t get to see it themselves.

Bit characters are bit characters, I know. Terrorists in fiction don’t typically get to walk away scot-free. But numbers aren’t just numbers, even in fiction, even when they’re villains. If all Horikoshi wanted was a sufficiently large, scary threat to throw his heroes up against, he should have stuck with mindless Noumu or maniacal robots. He didn’t. He chose to make that threat human. He cannot now choose to dehumanize the threat, just because those humans are no longer convenient to his story.

Or at least, he can’t make me look at his doing so as anything other than appalling—ahistorical, absurd, and unsustainable.

Come back next time for sources and further reading.

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

[51] And yes, as always, I do think that Geten-whose-name-means-Apocrypha is a radical, not a reliable barometer for the MLA norm.

[52] Contrasting Toga, the standard-bearer for bad quirks on the villain side.

[53] We don’t know if that practice—so widespread it became the subject of a long-running TV program—survived the Advent and raised crime rate, but if it didn’t, that only further suggests that kids wandering the streets unattended are probably in need of assistance.

[54] Within the same bounds other freedoms exist, e.g. they’re not unduly burdening others.

[55] Small political parties in Japan merge and fragment all the time, particularly in times of crisis, so it’s not surprising that the HMP has some sub-groups. I am somewhat surprised that these factions themselves weren’t dissolved as well, given the heavy-handedness on display everywhere else. This is about the only thing that suggests that the arrests might not be as totally over-the-top as is otherwise implied, though really, if that’s the case, it just brings us back to the problem of all the people who probably slipped the net if the HPSC did opt to undercompensate.

[56] Another enormous thematic issue I have with tossing away the PLF like this is that it renders Shigaraki and the League’s hard-fought victories in My Villain Academia all but meaningless—worse than meaningless, since settling into the villa instead of staying on the run or bunking up with Ujiko wound up losing them Twice—but that’s more a problem with the writing of Shigaraki’s arc than the themes of the series as a whole. Certainly, fumbling Shigaraki’s arc will have a nigh-incomparable impact on the themes of the series as a whole, but there’s time to salvage his situation yet, so I’m crossing my fingers and reserving judgement on that for now.

[57] It should have.

[corruptedconfessions]

You obvs don't have to boo but something along the lines of AOB Werewolf.. Alpha Aizawa in rut finding omega reader wounded~ "You taste even better than you smell"... "Shut up and take it". Ily <3

Ily2 bb <3

Day 2 of Monster a day content~~ This one is s p i c y

Tag List:

@writeiolite

@hqbbg

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You were whimpering, cowering away from him as you tried to curl your wounded leg in on yourself, flinching and whimpering when all that did was shoot pain through your entire side. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

You had just been trying to get home after accidentally staying out too late, taking a short cut through the woods to try and get back before your heat started. You knew it had been one dumb decision after another, deciding to go over to a friends house despite being so close to your heat, being careless and losing track of the time until it was already past nightfall, still choosing to leave and try and run home even when you felt that familiar heat starting to bubble in your gut.

And look where it had got you, crumpled among the dirt and leaves on the forest floor, clutching your swollen and twisted ankle, unable to even stand up, let alone limp your way back home. If that wasn’t bad enough your phone had broken in the tumble down that had caused said twisted ankle, and already you could feel the sweat trickling down the back of your neck, slick pooling together between your thighs, soaking through your underwear.

You tried to look around, think of anyway to help yourself out of this mess, anything at all, but your mind was going fuzzy as your heat set in. There was little more you could do other than whimper and chirp fearfully into the silent forest, staring out into the darkness with wide frightened eyes.

A twig snapping behind you had you spinning round as best as you could, a soft frightened noise bubbling out of your throat as you watched a large hunched figure stumbled out of the woods, lips curled back into a snarl as he stepped towards you

“I could practically smell you from the other side of the forest…”

His voice was nothing more than a wrecked snarl, deep and vibrating, making your own throat throb in pain at the sound of his shredded vocal cords. His hunched form slowly made its way into the clearing, stepping out of the darkness and letting you see him fully.

He towered over you, easily over six feet even with him practically bent in half, hair (fur?) covered every part of his body that wasn’t covered by the thin pair of pants that already seemed to be straining against sculpted bulging thighs. Though it was the other bulge that was straining against the fabric that had you whining weakly in need, baring you neck for him as you pitifully tried to spread your legs, yelping softly when you moved your injured leg again.

As he stalked closer to you his alpha scent washed over you, both soothing and stoking the heat burning under your skin, pulling another needy keen from your lips as you bared your neck to him, trembling weakly against the forest floor as he approached you. Sharp teeth brushed against your throat, scraping the skin and sending delightful little shivers through your body as he sniffed your neck before slowly dragging a wet lick right across your scent glad, pulling a high pitched desperate moan from you.

"You taste even better than you smell…"

You shivered, unconsciously pumping out more of your heat scent as that deep rumbling voice rolled through your body, leaving you quivering as slick dripped between your thighs. Keening again you gasped as a deep feral growl came from the man with his face still pressed flush against your vulnerable neck, feeling as his lips curled back against your neck to bare his teeth, a low snarl coming from him.

Within an instant you found yourself flipped over, crying out in pain as you were jostled, forced onto your knees as your head was shoved down into the dirt, ass pulled up high in the air. Mounting position. Your inner omega throbbed with need, another gush of slick adding to the mess pooling in your underwear even as you squealed, yelling and whimpering loudly in pain as you tried to kick out with your good leg, being rewarded with a large clawed hand grabbing the back of your head, shoving it down into the dirt as the other shredded away the clothing covering you, leaving you exposed, slick now freely pouring down your thighs as your ass was pushed up higher.

"Shut up and take it"

You tried to muffle your soft whimpers and cries of pain, the noises you couldn’t stop being absorbed by the dirt below you and your ragged breaths as you tried to breathe around the dirt flooding your senses, head spinning. Your cunt was throbbing, heat rolling off you even against the cold fall air, your thighs were shaking, ankle throbbing in pain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on any of it as hot breath suddenly panted across your heat, leaving you twitching and clenching down on nothing, a loud desperate cry bubbling from your throat.

“Alpha!”

You shrieked, yelping into the dirt when sharp jaws snapped at you, narrowly missing your ass but close enough for you to yelp, trying to scramble forward despite the inhumanly strong hold pinning you down. Whining into the dirt you forced yourself to quiet down again as the wolf draped himself over you, finally letting go of your head just for his clawed hands to clutch your hips, sharp claws sinking into your soft flesh, dragging another pained whine from you.

Drool dripped onto the ground next to you as he thrust roughly against you, cock bumping against your ass with every thrust, catching on your hole just to miss. It took several tries, desperate pleading cries from you and frustrated snarls before he finally hit home, lubed with your slick he thrust all the way inside at once, basking in your pleasured squeal.

Immediately he started fucking you earnestly, hips slapping against yours as he fucked you hard and deep, barely giving you time to even breath as he pushed you into the dirt.

You were left gasping and crying out weakly your blunt nails scrabbling against the dirt fruitlessly as you were dragged back onto his cock over and over again, your ankle throbbing painfully as you were forced to stand on your toes to keep up. Every drag of his dick against your walls had your cunt fluttering, clenching down on him. The fear and pain pumping through cutting through the heat haze that had settled over your brain, but it didn’t stop your body from milking his cock like it was what you were made for, clenching down on him every time he pulled out, desperate to keep him inside.

Low feral snarls and grunts and your loud squeals and moans filled the quiet forest, the wet sounds of your cunt taking his cock seeming deafening to your own sensitive ears as he started fucking you harder faster, his growls getting louder as his rhythm stuttered. You found yourself gasping and whining too, heat pooling in your stomach despite the pain that throbbed through every inch of your body, if anything the pain almost seemed to make the pleasure feel all the more good. Even hurt and scared your body could only focus on one thing: Pups.

Which was exactly why you keened, crying out loudly when you felt his knot swelling at the base of his cock, pushing against your entrance with every thrust, threatening to push into you. Despite yourself you desperately rocked back against it, pushing yourself down harder on him as you whine and drooled for his cock like you were made for it. His claws sunk deeper into your hips, your blood dripping off of them and onto the forest floor but all you could focus on was his knot swelling…swelling…You whimpered up at him as he leaned closer over you, drool trickling down your neck as he opened his jaws, his sharp teeth resting over the back of your neck, resting over your mating spot. Just the idea had your stomach jumping, a soft pleading cry bubbling from your lips as he kept thrusting.

You screamed , arching back against the larger male as his knot finally popped into place, pressing right against your soft spot as he growled and grunted, practically frothing at the mouth around your neck as he jerked his hips, humping you desperately. You shook in his arms, gasping and moaning in pleasure as he rocked against your sweet spot, unable to hold back anymore.

The feeling was apparently mutual as not long after he was roaring loud against your neck, your ears ringing from the intensive of the sound as he pumped you full of his cum. You trembled, jerking back against him desperately as he pumped you full, chasing after your own orgasm just to have it ripped out of you as he sank his fangs into your neck. You screamed, tightening around him, cumming hard as you felt your bond snap into place, forcing you to fall limp, relying on him to hold you up as you whited out from the pleasure pumping through your veins.

You weren’t sure how long you were out but when you slowly came back to your senses you were lowered down onto the forest floor on your side, a warm tongue lapping at the back of your neck, cleaning the mating spot as he ground his cock up into you, basking as your cunt fluttered around his knot, squeezing down on it weakly.

You’re ankle ached worse than when you first hurt it, your neck hurt terribly, and you could feel the cuts still oozing blood from your hips, leaking out onto the forest floor. And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were stuffed full of cum and warm, a mass of heat pressed up behind you, making you feel safe. Sure, he may still be trying to hump you right after the fact but what else could you expect from a werewolf right?

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving) 

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request  by @bangtaened-army​ turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

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  "I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying. 

    "You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook. 

   "I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him.  "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

    You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school.  "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone. 

    Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

   "Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would. 

    "Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels. 

     However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

     "You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

    Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

    The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her." 

    The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or  I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

     "Will do. Thanks." 

    "I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

    "Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. " 

  Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

     You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

  "Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

   "Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

    You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car.  His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

    You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

   “And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

   “Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

     As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end.  Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

   It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable 

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free.  You reach out to comb your fingers through it. 

   “Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

      Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

     You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

     Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago.  Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately. 

    Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up.  You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all.  “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room. 

   You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

     Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

    Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.” 

    Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

    “No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

    “I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

    Jimin murmurs something about  ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

   “Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

   Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face.  "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

  You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

   “Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

    Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

----- 

   Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast. 

     Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says. 

   Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit. 

     "I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly. 

   The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

     You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren. 

    Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

    "You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

   Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less.  "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face. 

   You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

    "I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off. 

   "Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

  Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

   The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff.  "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

    "Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature,  Jimin was a mama's boy.

   "I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America. 

  "I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it  adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

    You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way. 

    You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

    Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

   "Oh don't try to guilt trip me,  Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

    Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

    “Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

  "I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

   "You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok,  I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot. 

   Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

 "What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture. 

   You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

     Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

   You froze. "What?"

 "I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged. 

   "B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!" 

   A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

   The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!" 

     Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

       You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight.  When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?” 

       It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else.  No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

     At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

 “Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”  

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words.  You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

       You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction.  He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town  empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.” 

 Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

 However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with. 

  “Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

 Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-” 

   “I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

    "I'm sorry…" 

     "You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

   "Oh."  You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

   Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

       ‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

   Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought  one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life.  “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

    “You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

   “Okay. I believe you.” 

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

 Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

   You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

  If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

  Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

  You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

         Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

     “Anything you want princess. Anything you want.” 

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

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind. 

    Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

    “Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

  Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

 Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

   “Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look.  Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

    You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

    “I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

  Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

     “Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

    “Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

      Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

 He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone.   "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

    "Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist. 

  "Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down. 

     "Okay." You whisper. 

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

     A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them,  before finally moving to touch them.  He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

      "Trust me, I know.  If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself. 

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

    "I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

     "Never said I didn't.  In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs.  The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

    That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding. 

    Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it. 

    "You like that?"  He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

    "Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace. 

   "Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

       "More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

   Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed.  This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

    "Please, please, I'm so close."  You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

   "That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand.  With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you. 

     Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his. 

        Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a  manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing. 

    Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

   This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

    Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it. 

     Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

     Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum.  The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

    "So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner. 

   You  swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.  

  “Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair. 

    You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

  Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

       Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

     His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

  You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

      “Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll  have to wait until next.”

    “You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

    --------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe  hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post. 

    “You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

   For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette. 

    “Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

   “I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

   Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

    “Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

   This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

      You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

    “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up. 

     You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied. 

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

  That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over. 

     His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

     "I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

   "You won't regret it."  Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

   You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure.  Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time.  "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles. 

  Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm. 

  He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

   You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

  "Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door. 

    You blink registering what he said.  "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

 He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

    Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

   "A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

     Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

    "You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

   "How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

     "Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!"  You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses. 

     Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

  "I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

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Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman​ for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.