#if I could just be a crumb of fine like this everything would improve

[wristglitter]

[deltaclaws]

Monkie Kid: Creature's Comforts, Chapter 1- A "New" Normal

It's heeeeere! I had a blast writing this and I feel like I'm improving at writing humor. Let me know what you think, and like before you can read it here or on my AO3 page.

___________________

When Monkey King got a new phone at the humble, totally not using his puppy dog face request of his successor, he made the firm rule that only MK would have his number. His reasoning being he was already harassed enough through his email address, and he liked to keep a low profile.

That was broken within the first week as Mei somehow, oh so mysteriously got his contact info, and he only made 15 attempts at blocking her number before he gave in and muted her texts- because every convo ended up the same.

[Mei, pls only text me if its important :/] 8:55 AM

[Kk monkie dad! ⊂((*＞⊥σ))⊃ Dragon horse’s honor (≧ω≦)ゞ] Mei, 8:55 AM

[Thank you] 8:56 AM

[Link: Top 10 Funniest Viral Videos This Week…] Mei, 9:01 AM

[This is super important] Mei, 9:01 AM

It’s not that he wanted to avoid talking with her, she was a good kid!... It was her erratic schedule of messaging that more often than not came well after Nap o’ Clock, or I Wanna Sleep In AM..

So, with Mei being Mei and his phone number unlisted, Wukong only ever heard from MK when he made the once in a while call in lieu of using Mystic Monkey Messaging.

He was thinking of giving the kid a ring now, as it was almost half an hour past their scheduled meet up at his mountain for their (now mandatory) heart-to-heart talk and training. MK was hardly ever late to their sessions, and if he was, he at least gave a heads-up. It was starting to give the king a small, eensy teensy bit of emotion he couldn’t quite name.

Monkey King checked his phone again, and saw no missed calls or messages from his student, which only made the wiggling crumb of… something, settle deeper into his already hungry belly. No one would blame him for worrying about MK after everything that’s happened, but turning into an overbearing parent- which, no, could he call himself that? Was he allowed to?- wasn’t going to help. A nice snack, however, might do the trick.

Just as Wukong was walking into his kitchen to get some chopped peaches from his freezer to settle his stomach and redirect those thoughts, the Super Monkey Mech theme chimed out from his sash.

“Speak of the demon,” he chuckled with relief as he fished out his phone from the folds of his belt. Wukong flicked his thumb, accepted the call, and went rooting for his snack. “Hey bud! What’s the hold up?” he asked casually. 

“Ah, hey Monkey King,” came a gruff, clipped voice. Wukong snapped straight up, a terrible move as he thumped his crown harshly on the inside of the freezer. Beyond the sudden discomfort as he held the top of his head, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, was that shred of emotion now knotting his guts. “First off-”

“What’s wrong.” he interjected. The momentary pain was shunted away- now on high alert, he marched out of his house with purpose. He could hear a creaking noise beyond the grumble of Pigsy’s words.

“I’m trying to tell you- yes, MK, we ARE doing this.”

 “Is he hurt?”

“No, he’s not hurt. If you’d both stop-”

“Do I need to-”

“Would you two quit talkin’ over me at the SAME TIME?!” the irate pig shouted. Wukong halted his forward momentum right as his foot met the first step out of his home, only slightly taken aback, and his ears only slightly ringing from the outburst. There was a crackling sigh and a distant cough before Pigsy continued. “Monkey King, the kid’s fine. Sittin’ right next to me as we speak. Now listen before you come flyin’ over here. Please.” he groused.

“Alright, I’m listening.” Wukong deadpanned as he leaned on the railing of his porch, tail swishing.

Another cough met his ears before Pigsy spoke again. “Ok, I’ve got ya on speaker. Kid, say hi to Monkey King, SLOWLY, so he knows you’re alive.” Wukong wanted to jab right back, but for the moment he felt it would be a little tasteless on his part.

“Hey, Monkey King,” MK rasped after another small cough, sending a warning flag up in the monkey’s mind,  “Sorry I didn’t call. I couldn’t find my phone after, uh, I accidentally broke a couple booths at the sh, sh, sha, shop!” His words broke off into hacking, which quickly rose in pitch. What Wukong heard after the “Hu-geugh!” he would possibly describe as someone slapping their hand across a sound board.

There was shouting- probably Pigsy- some crunching, definitely property damage, and what sounded like glass breaking amongst the cacophony. That new insurance money was gonna go fast.

Wukong waited, eyebrows drawn low as curtains, as nothing but white noise and a withering groan came over the speaker. “Ummm,” he drawled after he heard neither pig nor kid speak up, “Eeeverything good over there?” the king asked, halfway expecting to not get a response.

A grunt was his answer. “Eh, not the worst it’s been,” said a very resigned sounding Pigsy. There was a noise of frustration, along with more wheezing that sounded like a laugh, and Wukong could practically hear the chef massaging a behooved finger between his eyes. “As I was sayin’, MK’s sick. His coughing is making his body freak out, and I need you to come pick him up and take care of him ‘til he’s feeling better. You’re gonna be able to help him more than me right now, and I’d like my shop to at least go one month this year without getting a remodeling.”

“Freak out? Like- No, wait- backtrack,” Wukong frantically waved his free hand, totally visible over the audio only phone call, “MK’s sick? Sick with what?” he asked urgently. 

“It’s just a cold,” MK tried to assert, throat sounding strained, before he was interrupted by Pigsy gently shushing him.

“Kid, you’re a bad liar, and you’re gonna bust a lung at this rate.” he chided, though his voice was far warmer than it was before. Wukong waited for the chef to speak to him again, tail practically swatting a quick rhythm now as he listened impatiently to more shuffling. “Monkey King, just, come over. I’m not gonna be able to make MK budge without your help, and I think this is something you gotta see in person.”

At that he heard an overly offended ‘hey!’ that lost all of its power when the kid’s voice cracked. It eased the tension in his shoulders and abated some of the worry that replaced the foreign feeling from earlier. WIth a chuff, he said “You know, there’s this thing you’re using right now that I’m pretty sure can also take and send pictures, if the lens isn’t busted anymore.”

There was another noise of indignation from MK that bubbled off into a grumble, which was almost entirely obscured by Pigsy’s terse rebuttal. “Alright smart guy, I’m hanging up and helping the kid pack. See you in 10.” Monkey King gave an affirmative hum, tucking his phone back into his sash as the call disconnected.

He let himself droop and fold dramatically over the railing, deflating further as he released a long, suffering, groan. Wukong couldn’t see anything past the legs of his pants, but he heard the light tap-tap-tap of one of the monkeys coming around the porch. With a thump and a graceful landing, his subject sat on his back and let out a questioning chitter.

“Well,” he huffed, scrubbing a nervous hand through his mane. “Looks like we’re not gonna catch a break just yet.”

___________________

The trip over to Megapolis was as easy as any other day, and the 10 minute window gave Monkey King more than enough time to sort out his thoughts and get into his “Everything’s gonna be ok” mindset. Whatever MK had, it couldn’t be worse than being thrown through mountains, punched repeatedly, having the fate of everyone you know and love be put in your hands. You know, the usual!

Thinking about it now, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen MK actually sick-sick. He chalks that up to his successor being an overall healthy kid… for the most part.

Once he entered the city limits, Wukong hopped off his cloud and turned into a falcon, using the gratuitous amount of air pockets to speed over the neighborhoods and towards the food district Pigsy’s shop sat in.

From what he could see as he was approaching, nothing looked out of place; windows weren’t broken, no obvious holes in the walls, no paramedics waiting outside. There were a couple tables and chairs in a very sorry, never will house butts again state by the dumpster- which lined up with what MK mentioned earlier. Though a few easily replaced $25 chairs is hardly as destructive as rearranging entire city blocks in his opinion.

Opting for the quickest route and least likely to have furniture roadblocks, Monkey King dropped down onto the fire escape to enter via the window, which was conveniently already open.

With a flourish and a burst of light, he announced his arrival. “Alright, I’m here kiddooooooh, whoa.”

The kid’s modest apartment looked like it had been ransacked. The bed had a very obvious dip in it, and was very obviously pushed halfway up the opposite wall. MK’s TV laid morosely on its side, sans glass, and a broom and garbage can sat next to it like mourners- the can was also full of the former glass screen and what remained of the shelves the TV rested on. Books and DVDs were stacked out of the way, and what belongings that were still intact were pushed to the side to clear the floor.

MK and Pigsy were finishing up packing the kid’s duffel when he stepped through the window, which Monkey King now realized was entirely blown out and not actually open. His student perked up a little when he saw him, and offered a sheepish smile. “Monkey King!” he said suspiciously quickly, and wow, he looked like he had been caught in a windstorm. “Great to see you! Thanks for coming out, but you really don’t have to look after me.” he squeaked- squeaked!- while he held up his hands placatingly. Pigsy harrumphed and shoved MK’s duffel into his unoccupied arms.

Wukong leveled an unimpressed look at his student and crossed his arms. MK wilted. “You sure, bud? ‘Cause this,” he gestured to the battlefield formerly known as his apartment, “Seems a little beyond your usual organized chaos. I don’t think a simple cold would cause this much collateral damage.” he added casually.

MK broke eye contact and ran a hand along the back of his head, his face flushing the tiniest bit. That’s when Pigsy spoke up. “About that,” he started, grabbing Monkey King’s attention. “Remember what I said about MK’s body freaking out?”

Ah, right. Wukong nodded, signaling for the chef to continue, when MK put his hand on Pigsy’s shoulder.

“I’ll tell him.” he mumbled, sounding awfully weary. MK straightened up, but kept his eyes trained on the floor. He took in a rattling breath before speaking quickly. “I keep transforming whenever I cough or sneeze. I don’t know why. I was fine this morning, and then when I was cleaning the dining room, I just… bwoosh!” he illustrated with spreading his fingers wide in a mock explosion and grimacing. “And since then-” he coughed, and Wukong saw the ripple of gold light cross over his successor’s body. Pigsy tensed and grasped MK’s arm. His fake grimace turned into one of genuine discomfort and both adults could see him trying to hold back another cough. “Since then, I can’t stop. It’s so annoying.” he finished with a slight wheeze to his voice. That feeling Wukong couldn’t quite place before returned, and sat like a rock in his stomach as he watched MK struggle.

Pigsy’s face wore the concern and sympathy they both felt as he gently squeezed the kid’s arm. “It’ll pass, MK. You’ve got your family lookin’ out for ya.” he reassured warmly, and Wukong briefly darted his eyes away. The chef gave a few more comforting pats before he turned back to Monkey King. “MK’s already taken some flu medicine, the rest's in his bag.” he informed him. ”If ya need anything, or something happens,” Pigsy hesitated, “don’t be afraid to call. Kid’s got all our numbers.” Beneath those words, the stone monkey knew there was an unspoken plea.

Monkey King smiled and gave a mock salute. “You got it Pigsy. I’ll make sure he gets plenty of bedrest and doesn’t blow up any more rooms. C’mon bud, it’s time to recover at Flower Fruit Hospital.” That got an eye roll from MK despite the smile tugging at the side of his face.

With goodbyes traded and MK coming to a place of acceptance that yes, he would be going with his teacher, and yes, he will be taking a break, Monkey King stepped back out the window onto his cloud and hefted MK up beside him. He only balked a little bit before his teacher reminded him why riding his own cloud over to the mountain would be a bad idea right now.

Before they took off, MK looked back at Pigsy. “Thanks… both of you.” he mumbled- that sincere, special MK-branded smile on his face.

Pigsy smiled back, and Wukong patted the hand wrapped around his waist. “Anytime, kiddo.” he soothed. Monkey King shifted his stance to better brace against the oncoming wind, wrapped his tail loosely around his student for extra insurance- and in a flash, they were off.

The subtle wiggling at his back let him know MK was watching the noodle shop, until it was too small to pick out from the rest of the buildings and obscured by the low cloud cover that had rolled in.

___________________

It wasn’t until they were gliding over the open ocean that MK spoke again.

“Hey, um,” he tried to say over the roar of the wind. “Is your house gonna, you know, be strong enough?”

Wukong glanced over his shoulder and smiled cheekily. “It’s survived you and our friends for over a year, hundreds of years before that, and has wild monkeys living in it. I don’t think it'll be blown down from your super-sneezes now.” The effect of his friendly jab was immediate as MK let out a strange chirpy laugh.

“Heheh, you got a puh- point-” he started to wheeze, the golden light of his powers flashing over his body as he started to hack. Wukong felt his hackles raise with only a touch of mild panic.

“Hold on, kid!” he sputtered out, grabbing his arm and tightening his grip on MK. His student shifted wildly with each cough, making it harder to keep the firm grasp he had. Wukong watched helplessly as MK flipped through the transformations he had mastered so far- flacon, songbird, spider, falcon, spider- and with a disgustingly wet “Hwack!”, he turned into a gorilla.

The sudden weight shift made Monkey King’s cloud rock back violently, and he was forced to lean forward and throw out his arms to compensate- a move that usually would get him back in control, but with how fast they were going, and having huge gorilla hands partially obscuring his view, it only succeeded in tipping their combined weight too far forward. Pitched off the runaway cloud and both of them too frazzled to think quickly- student and teacher plunged into the ocean below, the latter yelling out “MK!” the whole way down.

As Monkey King surfaced with a gasp and a quick shift into a tortoise, he located MK- now back to his normal-ish self- and paddled over at top speed.

‘I was right,’ he mused morosely as he helped his successor grip onto his shell. ‘We are not catching a break today.’

[dreamswap-crackhead-council]

Wait show me the dreamswap dream thesis

I'm going to split this into two parts, the first one being "so Kai is an unbiased party when it came to making Dreamswap" and the second being "oh yeah this is DS Dream's character", since I got two asks about this and I want to show both of my sides when it came to how I feel about this character.

If I get seemingly angry in this ask, know this isn't directed at you anon (hence why I answered this ask with Part One bc the other person isn't anonymous and I don't want any misunderstandings), I'm more angry at the whole fiasco about the inner workings of how DS Dream came to be.

I just want to give you a little hint about how I feel about Kai's interpretation of OG Dream, because that is VITAL information to know before I tear everything to pieces.

Part One: Kai's interpretation of OG Dream's characterization is like corporate meddling at EA games, but there's not even a fun game at the end.

If you read their starcrossed fic and had at least a CRUMB of what Dream's character is like in Dreamtale, or be like me who actually talks to Joku at times or have a friend who talks to Joku a lot more then I do, you understand just how terrible this fic is. I just want to grab it, rip it up, and then rewrite it all. I won't, because that's disrespectful as fuck, but I could just see how it could be improved.

But it is painful to read, and it's all so wrong.

Dream is not bitter about trivial things like that. Sorrowful that his brother - his actual brother, not this goop-monster that spreads negativity - is gone? Yes! Does he let his feelings get pent up because he doesn't want others to feel bad? Also yes! But being bitter about Cross saying pineapple was better on pizza, while comedic, breaks character more then Dream wanting to fuck Cross. (Since he's canonly demipanromantic and asexual, though I don't think he's sex repulsed, just uninterested and also uneducated bc. y'know. 400+ years in stone. Wanted to throw that out there btw)

But if you know what Dream's character is like, at least an OUNCE of what he is like canonly, this so-called "Starcrossed" is more painful then a white girl who never encountered real spice in her life eating Carolina reaper sauce. I am NOT exaggerating, that fic is likely as painful as that. I could go into the nitty gritty and the nitpicky on that fic, but that's not what we're here for.

Dreamswap Dream is Kai's version of what he thinks OG Dream "should" be, without taking any account of what OG Dream ACTUALLY is.

Because, y'know, asshole OG Dream is sooooo much better then what he's actually like. It's like skinny dipping into a mud bath, but instead of mud it's just shit.

OG Dream doesn't swear, he can't read or write for shit, he clearly would NEVER murder his brother, and he even went vegetarian because he thinks life is sacred and wouldn't even have an animal in his meal (though dairy/eggs/all that would be still on the table because that can be harvested without hurting the animal), and he would never touch Nightmare's side of the tree.

DS Dream does swear (though mostly in alarm/surprise), he can clearly read or write because how else would he do paperwork, you tell me if he wants to murder his brother, he kills people like it's break time because they "spread negativity" so you tell me if he thinks life is sacred and shouldn't be ended, and what do you think the apple incident in Dreamswap was all about when Dream ate all the positive apples.

However, I do know one thing: A swap is meant to swap characters, and while Dreamswap was meant to swap "roles", it also dabbles in changing personalities as well. So, while there is fair criticism that Dream in Dreamswap is nothing like in Dream in Dreamtale, I have to say this:

The reason that Dream is different is because of this IS a swap universe, even if creative liberties have been taken.

Is Error fine with others touching him and likes to donate his knitting to kids in need, or having others point out he's an error? Or is Swap a manipulative piece of shit that doesn't like being violent at all and also dislikes other Swaps? No?

Or is Ink someone who willingly works for Dream because he can and also doesn't have a hand or care in AUs being created, or is Cross someone who hates Dream's guts and would only join him under duress? No?

They are swapped with each other, but while I understand that OG Dream is handled pretty badly in terms of Kai (I mean, you know that Dreamswap was born from parodying Zelda and jumping on the "Joku is Bad" train, right? It won't ever be good as Dreamtale), and that the creator originally created Dreamswap to be somehow "infinitely better then Dreamtale" (no, it isn't, and I've loved Dreamswap since 2018, I'm just not a paint-huffing zombie like some of the fans here). I can understand why many fans of Dreamtale have a distaste for DS Dream - he's not the loving amazing muffin that OG Dream is, and I get that to hell and back

But also, it's still an AU at the end of the day, and while it's not a fully proper swap originally created from drama and for memes, none of the characters are going to fully be what they are in OG. If you want Ink and Error to still act like themselves, there's OG right there, and if you want Ink and Error to switch places, may I propose Pale and Template?

Part 2 will be in the second ask I got of this, 'cause I got two asks regarding this JUSFHSIURGHDG

[veil-over-miitopia]

This is what happens when you leave it to somebody else;

If you want it done right, you should just do it yourself.

You oversaturate your world with nothing but machines.

You might make everyone happy, but you're-

dead inside just like me.

🍂✨🍂✨🍂

(TW: Child abuse, depictions of PTSD, mentions of drug abuse, graphic mentions of gore and starvation, insomnia)

(please, I cannot emphasize these warnings enough, especially the first one; if they even make you the slightest bit uncomfortable, please close this post's tab asap)

Master Leander, also usually known as Magnus, of House Maheras; a frail, softspoken, yet determined and gentle man who has found himself to be a member of the royal guard thanks to his incredible otherworldly prowess- a fountain of Natura magic flowing through his veins that, when in the right concentration, could send his enemies flying...as well as himself towards the opposite direction from time to time. To this day, he's still training and doing his best to contain and better control his magic.

Prior to the skies' death, he's operated his own flowers-and-book shop not too far away from the castle and the then-modest local graveyard. Its humble appearance reflected its owner, down to its signature flora, the "forget-me-not". He was also noted to be especially kind towards children who popped up in his shop, even going the extra mile to give them a free flower with a smile on his face.

In spite of his timid mannerisms and quiet demeanor, there is a strong-willed side to him; there isn't a second that passes by without him offering a way to help his circle of friends, namely Princess Halinka and Prince Dakarai, and work on his magic. It is a drive to improve himself- to save the rest around him and repay them for all they did (he and Kai would get along just fine)...and for granting him refuge all those years ago.

The abridged version of the events surrounding the house's fall from grace were...mostly true. The patriarch of the family, Leander's adoptive father, had plunged the entire house into debt for all the kingdom to see, and, in the process, the young lord was eventually taken out of there for his own safety after a series of disastrous events leading up to the dissolution of family that used to fund the research of magic in Greenhorne.

A shorter tale that gets right to the point, a story that was deemed to be...sanitized enough so that those who speak of it wouldn't have to feel the need to pause themselves in the midst of explaining the finer details just by thinking of the sheer cruelty a child like himself at the time had to go through...

Indeed, this is but a crumb of what the people of Greenhorne have deemed to be one of their greater controversies in latter years; yet another piece of the puzzle that reveals exactly how rotten the noble families that puppeteered the finer workings of their country could be. The true horrors behind House Maheras' closed doors still itch behind Leander's haunted eyes, and will continue to breathe down his neck without hesitation. It shall haunt him during his waking hours without ceasing for as long as it could, even after the rooster's call heralded the start of another day.

It was a challenge to exactly pinpoint the event that marked the beginning of the family's downfall; some say that Queen Echidna's visit to their house showcased the first crack in their foundations after a young Dakarai met him and was horrified by the sight of his all-too fresh burn marks and famished figure, while others claimed that hard drugs were the catalyst behind everything crashing down around them - as they were no strangers to these substances even before Leander was introduced to the family -.

No matter how they would perceive it, the complete lack of humanity within the heads of the Maheras family was a common theme in each person's retelling of events. To exert control over a child like him, destroying him from the inside-out for the sake of enforcing control, callousness, or even amusement, was inexcusable in itself, no matter how much they would try to hide their actions behind the excuse that it was all necessary to "discover the inner-workings of his magical potential". All that, and we still haven't touched upon how they would so often parade the boy in the public eye, as if he was some poor soul who was "saved" by these beasts and granted a "safer and happier life"...

Cameras flashed and the crowds roared; everyone was piling on one another right outside the doors of their home just to catch a sight of what's to arrive outside. Amaryllis, one of King Serapheim's personal guards, had to lead the rest of the soldiers through the entire ordeal; if it wasn't the weight of the situation that has caused her iron will and posture to waver, then the smell sure as hell did the job.

All her life, Amaryllis thought to herself that nothing would be worse than the scent of dried blood mixed with the petrichor of the battlefield. What had hit her as soon as she opened those doors, meshed with the sight of what can be described as "shattered humanity", destroyed that belief almost instantly.

True terror was not to be found in the midst of the battle. Rather, it lies in the wounds of what was meant to be a safe haven for the common folk.

After what seemed like hours of anticipation, the young boy was finally escorted out; his impossibly frail and fragile figure was carefully held by Amaryllis as she made her way to King Serapheim's vehicle.

The people screamed and yelled at the sight; amongst the burn marks, messy wounds where needles were supposedly jabbed into, and dark bruises present for all to see, there lied bright yellow infections and gashes that managed to hit bone. He was a living skeleton by the time he was "rescued", and his eyes...his all-too sunken eyes covered with rheum and crust that he struggled to keep open...

He should have long deceased, yet, in spite of these unspeakable horrors, Leander lived.

Not too long after, the heads of the household were taken away by the rest of the soldiers; their crazed looks, erratic motions, and high-pitched screaming didn't stop said soldiers from finally delivering justice by personally throwing them into their own filthy cells, where they would eventually live out the rest of their pathetic lives rotting and alone. To countless Greenhornites, however, said justice arrived too little, too late.

Against his own wishes, Leander became the talk of Aeronian* households across the nation; his scars were simply viewed as points to speak about, he was not given a second's rest without eyes peering from every corner, and the finger-pointing coming from those who managed to recognize the child throughout the years never failed to make him immediately shy away and hide away in any way he could. The years that followed his recovery and rescue weren't easy, and, as time passed, his retreat from the public eye finally paved way for the topic to die down. Nonetheless, this never stopped his fellow Greenhornites from showcasing their pity towards him, even without their own knowledge; their eyes expressed their emotions towards him long before their tongues had the chance.

Though he wishes for others not to worry about him, his crumbling health is evident even on his face; years of insomnia and unrelenting memories took their toll on him, and they have returned with a vengeance after the world's end. In spite of his best efforts to control his sleeping patterns and Natura magic, without even knowing it, he's back to spending countless hours awake and unable to keep the memories at bay. In turn, his health has taken an unimaginable hit, though, to this day, he still stands strong.

It isn't unreasonable to assume that, one day, it will all become too much for him. It will only be a matter of time before he is unable to deny the help he needed from his fellow friends, but only fate will tell how and when this will happen....

*Aeronia= the name of this AU's Miitopia; from Aeonia (eternity) and Aero (Air/Wind)

[extravaguk]

sex education 2.0

pairing: college!au, jungkook x reader

summary: "Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." 

wordcount: 9k

genre: smut - angst(? not rlly - fluff, like tons bc im a slut for fluff

rated: m (duh!2.0)

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, just jk and tae being bros having bro convos, switch!reader, switch!jk, but mostly dom!jk, dirty talk, glimpses of poorly written bdsm, reader being a jealous and ‘insecure little bitch’ (her words, not mine),slapping (dont worry i tried to make it funny), how i met your mother spoilers (sorry im a gemini i spoil shit), spanking, degradation kink, back at it again with the spit kink, slight anal play, beware!of jungkook being a sweetheart, a lil mean at the end but a sweetheart nontheless.

read sex education here!

Three months of being in an actual commitment with Jeon Jungkook, your brother's partner in crime since the young age of five and, therefore, a common denominator throughout your childhood and teenage years, has proven to you a few things you never knew you would discover about the boy himself: Jeon Jungkook is definitely not what you thought him to be. 

You thought growing up with him would've been enough telltale about everything that made Jungkook be, well, Jungkook. He wasn't as immature as you had believed prior to the beginning of your relationship, he was funnier than you remembered -although maybe you found him funnier now that Taehyung wasn't in the picture to interfere with infantile inside jokes that you never were able to grasp-, and smarter than he had ever let you known before. Although you're sure the main reason his grades had started to improve was solely you and the way you rewarded him by opening your legs everytime he passed an exam. 

But above all, if there was something that had truly surprised you about Jeon Jungkook was the fact that he was truly an absolutely and undeniably softie.  

You loved it. Loved the random scribbled love notes he sometimes left in your backpack before kissing you goodbye to leave for his own class, loved the Spotify playlists he made exclusively just for you -with genres that varied between sappy and romantic and wanting to tear your 'wet ass pussy' in two-, loved the late night texts filled with emojis telling you how much he missed you when both of you were too busy doing assignments and studying to see each other -even if it hadn't even been 48 hours since you last saw each other-. You loved how careful and sweet and thoughtful he was. You really did. 

But.

"Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." His mouth falls open and you supress a laugh. You really shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but there's something about Jungkook's reaction to his ego being bruised and that terribly adorable pout on his face that just makes your insides tingle with joy. 

"What do you mean? I've had plenty of girls in bed before you, like a whole lot, and none of them have ever called me boring! They loved this adventurous and fun dick, alright? Why do you think-" you raise a brow, scrutinizingly. It still amazes you how with just a simple expression and no words needed, you can make all color from Jungkook's face banish and how quick he is to reach for your hand across his bed. "But I only love youuuu, and you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and my dick like, baby, have I mentioned how head over heels I'm for you?"

"Only like five times today." rolling your eyes again, you pull your hand from his to toy with the peperoni piece on your slice of pizza. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, he was starting to get truly concerned now. You couldn't possibly...?

"Are you not satisfied? I mean, do I not make you feel good or...?" there's clear worry in his voice and that makes you meet his eyes, shaking your head hurriedly. Now it's you who take his hand in yours.  

"No! No, babe. I love sex with you! I love everything you do to me, I love how you treat me, I love how you make me feel. I'm a hundred percent satisfied, I swear, It's just..." you sigh, dropping your gaze to rub slow and reassuring circles to the ink adorning his skin. "All I'm saying is... I may also want to experience what all those girls have experienced with you, y'know... the not so vanilla stuff. But you always seem to be scared to try new things with me, and I don't know if it's because of m-"

"Baby," Jungkooks soft voice calls out to you, removing the pizza box in between the two of you to slide closer to you on the mattress. He craddles your face with his fingers, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. "_____, don't say that. I just don't ever want to cross any boundaries. I don't want to hurt you or do anything you might not like or regret later, you know that, right?" placing a small kiss on your lips, you hum in content nodding your head yes.

"I know that." you pull him for another brief kiss, oddly not caring about the faint taste of garlic and spice on them because that's what love will do to you. "But what if I do want you to hurt me? What if I want you to fuck my mouth with no mercy until I cry and slap my face after you've cum all over it while you call me a slut?" you pause, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes. "Or viceversa."

It's not that Jungkook is afraid. Because Jungkook is afraid of nothing in this world. He will murder any spider in his way, he will throw a punch to anyone who denies mint chocolate ice cream as the superior ice cream flavour -and he knows that means he will have to literally fight like the entire population on planet earth-, and he will Rey Mysterio you if you ever discredit or deny his incredible skills playing Overwatch.

Jeon Jungkook prides himself in being fearless in every aspect of his life. Except when it comes to you. 

So yeah, maybe he was a little afraid. Because hearing you use the words 'choke', 'slap' and 'slut' in the same sentence did things to him that he didn't deem possible considering none of you were newbies anymore to intimicy. You have been together for three months, for God's sake, but you still made his cock twitch like the first day and he's sure in twenty years you'll have the exact same effect on him.

He didn't want his most primal instincts to overpower the respect and love he'd harboured for you since you were kids because at the end of the day, one, you were still his best friend's little sister, two, he appreciated you too much to ever cross any lines, and three, as cliché as it sounded, you were nothing compared to the girls he had been with previously. What he feels towards you cannot be compared to anything he had experienced before. 

And fuck, was he in a predicament. Because you made him weak in his knees for you and you were not even aware of it. You were not aware of how badly he has wanted to explore and take things way further, way out of both his and your comfort zones. But he's terrified. He's terrified because all he wants is to to take care of you and what if he fails at the one thing he's swore to himself? What if he lets the darkest side of him consume him and at the same time consume you? What if he does actually hurt you, not just psichologically but also physically?

He would never be able to forgive himself. And neither could Taehyung.

And that, was also tormenting him.

Taehyung seemed fine with the two of you dating -or at least that blow to Jungkook's face seemed to ease things between them-, but Jungkook is not dumb and has felt his best friend slowly distancing himself. 

Sure, they were still best friends and will ever will. Taehyung is loyal to Jungkook and Jungkook is loyal to Taehyung. Has been that way since they were five and that will not change just because Jungkook's caught feelings for his little sister.

But the phonecalls were not as often and not as long as they used to be; in rare occasions Jungkook could sense a certain type of awkwardness between them that really had never happened in their friendship, and sometimes Taehyung's jokes seemed to hold more truth than lightheartedness. 

And to top it all off, Jungkook's dilemma regarding you was eating him alive and, usually he would turn to Taehyung for girl advice, only to later realize he was also frightened of doing that. 

But a Friday night at 2 a.m, Jungkook decides he can't take it anymore. 

"Sup, man." Taehyung's voice answers Jungkook's phone call on the second ring, like he always does. 

"Hey, bro." Jungkook clears his voice, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Are you busy?"

"I don't know," his friend seems to be chewing on what Jungkook bets is red Skittles -yes, only the red ones- because he just knows him too well. "Are you busy still fucking my little sister?" 

Taehyung chuckles at his own joke, but Jungkook doesn't. He knows there's no malice, but he can't help to think there might be. He settles for a sigh. "Yeah." he can hear some shuffling on the other side and the clicking of a computer mouse. Jungkook would also bet he was playing Among Us and he would lie if he said he wasn’t disappointed he hadn't called him to play with him. "Y'know what, it's not even important, I'll just call y-"

"Come on, man. You haven't even laughed at that and you usually laugh at everything I say even when no one else does." Taehyung swirls in his chair, his attention fully focused on his best friend. "Seriously, what's bothering you." Jungkook takes a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face. 

"It's about _____."

"_____? As in, my little sister? Who you're fucking?"  

"Tae, dude-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Go on." Taehyung stiffles a laugh and waits patiently for Jungkook to continue.

"She um... Fuck, I hope this isn't weird, dude. I really do. She wants to like... rough it up in the bedroom, I guess? And I just... I don’t know... I'm terrified dude." There's silence filling the gap between Taehyung and Jungkook and Jungkook almost feels like throwing up. 

"You're coming to me for sex advice... about my little sister?"

"I know, dude but... Who else I'm supossed to talk to? Jimin? Hoseok?" Jungkook sits up on his bed, an ugly knot beginning to form in his stomach. "I mean, you're my best friend," Jungkook swallows again, voice cracking. "...right?"

It's Taehyung's turn to sigh after a few seconds before he replies. "Forever and always, bro." His tone settles Jungkook's uneasiness. There's nothing but honesty in it. "Listen, Guk. I really don't know what kind of advice to give you because, literally, ew. But I do know my sister, and if that's what she wants and she's communicated with you about it, it’s because she trusts you. And I trust you more than anyone in my life. So there you go, man."

Relief washes all over Jungkook's body and he lays back on the bed again, heart not beating as hard as it was a few seconds ago. 

"Thanks, dude." Jungkook smiles. "Sorry for calling you so late."

"No problem, bro." Taehyung smiles as well, swirling his chair back to his computer screen. A weight of his own being lifted. "Among Us next time?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know. Good night, bro."  

Taehyung calls Jungkook's name before he can hang up. "Hey, man?"

"Yeah, man?"

There's a pause between them and then Taehyung speaks. "I love you, man."

Jungkook supresses the threat of tears about to spill because he knows Taehyung would try to bruise his other other eyebrow if he ever found out. Or hug him to death. Or both.

"I love you too, bro."

"This reminds me of the first time you gave me a blowjob." Jungkook chuckles, watching you get down on your knees between his spread thighs, make up free and sporting a similar low messy bun as that time he's mentioning, except this time you're wearing one of his hoodies engulfing your smaller frame. Proof that this time around, you're exclusively his and no one else’s.

"You mean the blowjob of your life." you giggle as you reach out to pull down his sweatpants, deligthed to see he decided on not wearing any underwear. Your spit on the back of your hand and immediately wrap it around the base of his rock hard cock while his own darts out to push the strands falling down your face behind your ear, heart eyes emoji looking down at you looking up at him. 

Your tongue swirls around the tip timidly, swallowing the drop of precum oozing as he sighs heavily and lovingly. "Every blowjob you give me is the blowjob of my life." he unties your hair from the band holding it together because he prefers his fingers to be the hair tie, prefers to be the one to guide the bobbing of your head up and down his dick. 

You hum in appreciation against him, cherry balmed lips wrapping fully around the head of his cock and he hums back. "Love seeing you on your knees for me with your pretty mouth stuffed, fuck." You take him deeper, closing your eyes. 

Your hand moving accordingly to your mouth and your panties already wet, clinging to your folds. It's really not your fault Jungkook is the most delicious eye candy on earth and how fast can the mere sight of him make your pussy lips quiver. You slurp around the head obscenely , a moan of yours mixing with a moan of his. "Hands on your back." 

You obligue, removing your hands and growing excited at the dominating low tone his voice exerts. The grip he has on your hair tightens and controls your motions, pushing you further down his dripping shaft until your nose hits his pubic bone. He holds you there, his own eyes closing shut and his dick twitching insde your mouth. A thrust of his hips make you gag and has one of your hands flying to tap his leg two times, letting him know you were in need for air. 

He releases you, pulling you back until his cock is pulsating in front of you. He looks down at you, both breathless but the difference is you look so messy. Eyes watery, chest moving heavily and saliva leaking from your lips. 

Yeah, there was a reason Jungkook hasn't been like this with you before. The sight of you submitting completely and looking so nasty was too much for him to handle. He might never want to see you any other way than this. 

"Isn't this what you wanted, huh?" the free hand that had been supporting his weight on the matress grasps your face harshly, making you lock eyes with him.

 "I thought you wanted me to choke you with my cock like a little whore?" you nod your head eagerly, unable to form words. Your pussy throbs, prompting you to rub your thighs to get some sort of relief as his thumb smears the spit adorning your lips. You're quick to envelop it in the warmth of your mouth, an involuntary moan leaving your throat. "Such a pretty slut," he lets his cock slap against your cheek, removing his thumb to move his hand back to his previous position. "Open again."

You do, his length entering your mouth again -that you gladly accept- and then he's shoving you down by your hair. "Shit, gonna fuck your mouth so good..." 

And he does, not holding back anymore, his hand thrusting your head along his shaft until your throat tightens around him repeteadly, struggling for breath. But you take it, you take the aggresiveness and the degradation because fuck, you've been waiting for so long to know what this feels like. To have Jungkook be mean and have this type of control and power over you and you're enjoying it a bit too much. 

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum, leave your mouth open." he releases on your tongue, not able to look away from the image of you with tears falling down your eyes and mouth drenched with him and your spit, some of his cum staining down your chin and the corners of your lips that he gathers with his thumb and pushes back into your mouth. He groans, watching you swallow all of it like a good girl, your tongue grazing around his digit for the remainings, gaze not leaving his. "Let me grab my phone real quick, I need to take a picture of this."

You were definitely not the jealous type.  

You prided yourself on being able to recognize when your behaviours were due to your own insecurities and removing all sorts of feelings of uncertainty from your mind. You never liked toxic patterns or the glamorization of them and your relationship with Jungkook was proof. You knew relationships were supossed to be based on blind trust and faith in your partner and yours definitely reciprocated in the same way. 

"So can anybody tell me why Eunha is basically all over my boyfriend right now?" you wish you could blame your state on Hoseok's weed, who's sitting on the left side of the couch right next to you at the frat party. You really wish you could have an explanation for the way your heart tugged in such a weird way and your stomach swirled dangerously until almost making you nauseous. You really tried to blame your overthinking on the joint you had just passed to your friend. 

You knew it was bound to happen someday, especially considering Jungkook had always been a ladies' man and the kind of attraction from both men and women he was able to manifest, willing or unwillingly. You just never thought it would happen so soon and in such way that made you clench your fists so tight and your nails dig into the palm of your hands so painfully. 

"I mean, they did have like a long fling a few years ago, didn't they?" Seulgi, sitting on your right, chimes in. 

That was true. Longer than most flings Jungkook ever had before you.  

"Yeah, before she dumped him." Hoseok adds.

Your eye twitches and your jaw contracts. Because that, was also true, and it was mostly what was bothering you so much. 

Had it been Jungkook the one to move away from his situationship with Eunha like with most girls, you wouldn't have such a problem with the way she's shamelessly leaning towards him from across the room. Or the way she's twirling a strand of her hair between one of her fingers while battling her lashes. Or the way she's hysterically laughing at whatever he was saying, because your boyfriend was funny, but he was not that funny. 

You were not the jealous type, and Jungkook definitely wasn't giving you any reason to be, because as coquettish as the blonde was being or as provocatively as she was pushing her tits into his arm, he politely keeps his distance and tries to also engage with Jimin in conversation, leaving her pouting. But that wasn't enough to not make you start seriously questioning your feminist ethics right now. 

"Wait, you're not jealous, are you?" Seulgi turns to you, offering you the joint -how long had you been focusing your attention on Jungkook and Eunha to not realize it was your turn again to smoke?-. You take it, hesitating between answering right away or taking a hit before doing that. You were never a good liar. You look between your two friends who are looking back at you with their eyebrows raised.

"I-" you close your mouth and run your fingers through your hair. "Maybe? I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't like it one bit." 

"Aw, babe." Seulgi squeezes your knee, eyes showing you sympathy. "Jealousy is a natural response to any relationship."

"I know..." you take the joint in your hand, taking a long drag before letting the smoke out. "I just don't want to sound like an insecure little bitch!" you whine. "I don't want to be like 'Oh, why would Jeon Jungkook, a God of the Olympus, dare give his attention to a peasant as unworthy as me!?' Like no, he's just a man. A little less mediocre than most but a man nontheless. I'm not going to doubt myself or other women just because he's more beautiful than most, and hotter, and funnier and has a massive co-" you notice you're getting carried away by the look of disgust in Hoseok's face and Seulgi trying to hold back a laugh. 

"Anyways, he's lucky to have me. We're both lucky to have each other but sometimes I feel like I might be the luckiest out of the two. And seeing Eunha looking so pretty and throwing herself at him is triggering me because..." you pause to take a deep breath and lounch back on the couch. "What if he realizes one day that I'm luckier than he is and he could be luckier with someone else?"

There's, ironically, a long silence. Ironically because the sound of Travis Scott making the walls tremble is anything but, until Hoseok speaks.

"I think you feel that way because you still haven't seen how that boy looks at you, _____." and then he motions to the spot from across the room you had been observing for too long, the spot where Jungkook is now glancing at you after noticing your detectable distress, with a frown on his features. 

'You okay?' he mouthes, his fist raising in the air in a thumbs up, questioningly.  

Your heart jerks, and not out of bitterness or envy caused by a girl trying to get your boyfriend's attention. Because his attention is always entirely on you, no matter how many feet are separating the two of you. 

'Yes' you mouth back, with a nod of your head and an encouraging smile that has formed itself on your face. He beams as well at you. Mouthes an 'I love you' and puckers his lips in a flying kiss that makes you giggle. You mimic him, your heart tight against your chest. 

Hoseok is right. You have nothing to worry about.

Jungkook is in love with you. Sometimes, he thinks, he's too in love with you.

"Can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Can't believe you're such a pussy."

Jungkook huffs in annoyance. He would smack your ass right now if his hands weren't restricted by a scarf of yours he had never seen before to your bedpost. He would also send you a mean look if his eyes weren't covered by the only tie he owned and had so generously lent to you. 

When you mentioned you wanted to try this, he expected you to be in this position. Not the other way around.

He's sprawled on your bed, only his boxers covering him as your legs straddle his waist and you tighten the hold of the scarf around his wrists sternly. He winces and manages an 'Hey!' He knows you're only wearing your panties because he can't feel anything else and he's felt one of your naked tits brushing  his face as you tied him up. He also tried to catch one of your nipples in his mouth as a form of punishment, to no use because you swiftly backed away from his attempt. 

"I've never been a bottom before, this is new for me." he says. He really doesn't mind any of this. He's just not used to it. He knows he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little bit, even if he'd rather be the one to have you completely unmoving and naked beneath him. Especially now that you're skimming your nails up and down his torso.

"Mm, good to know." your lips follow the path your fingers created, from the center of his chest up, moving steadily and tracing soft kisses over his flesh. 

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." you croon, dragging your tongue from the pulse of his neck to his earlobe, nails scraping lightly over his left nipple. Jungkook shudders, air sucked in through his teeth as his mouth opens on its own. Taking advantage of this, you place a kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping your tongue inside. 

He answers simultaniously, his own tangling with yours, swallowing each other's moans. Your hips set a slow peace, clothed cad core griding over the length poking between your thighs. His hips move unvoluntarily, trying to find some sort of friction to make up for the fact that his hands are unavailable to knead your ass and pull you closer, if that was even possible.

You separate from him, raising on your knees. Jungkook whines in protest, hips buckling up from the mattress to try to meet yours again.

"Jungkook, I'm serious, stay still!" 

"I take it back." his voice shaky and hands straining against the tight hold the scarf you tied around has on them. "I don't like this. Untie me so I can fuck you, babe." he complains. You sit on his tiny waist, your thighs trying to stop his movements. 

You take a moment to assess him. He looks too beautiful for his own good: hair courtaning his forehead, biceps bulging and abs flexing. You can't see his eyes but you know they might be glassy. You bite your lip to supress a whine of delight. You almost consider doing as he says. Almost. 

But you mantain your ground. Your jealousy from the other night had been crawling slowly from within these past few days and since you couldn't take it out on Jungkook any other way because he really wasn't to blame, you figured you'd try something new to punish him and let some of your supressed anger vanish. 

Twisting your body back to pull down his boxers, not all the way, just enough to have his cock springing free from the confines of the fabric and slapping against your asscheeks.

"Has toxic masculinity seriously polluted your brain so much you can't take this seriously?" you fall forward, one of your hands balancing you beside his head as the other wraps around his neck, a tentative hold not yet to constrict his breathing. 

He gulps, his body's tense and his Adam's apple is prominent under your touch. All he can see is black but he'd do anything to watch your pretty tits bouncing in front of his face. "I don't like this conversation either." he pouts.

"Then why are you so hard?" you grin, holding yourself back from laughing as he hesitates for an answer. You lean closer, mouth against his ear as you whisper. "I'm so wet right now, I could take you just like this. No lubrication at all and my pussy would just swallow your dick." Feeling his girth still between your ass flutter, clearly affected by the sultry tone of your voice. You remove your hand from his neck seeing as he has stopped moving obediently. Reaching back, you slide your panties to the side and align your entrance to the head of his leaking cock. 

"Fuck, baby, please~" Jungkook's pleads fills the air, hips desperately back in motion and sliding just a few inches inside your drenched heat. The warmth envoles him instantly, your pussy pulsates around him and neither of you can't help the in synch groans tearing from your throats. 

"Just the tip" you lick your lips, your voice betraying you as you resist the urge to glide the rest of his lenght inside your quivering core.

"Just the tip, my ass." 

Out of sudden, Jungkook is swiftly lifting his hips from the matress, sinking all the way in. You cry as your body jumps forward, face hidden in the juncture of Jungkook's sweaty neck. His thick cock stretches you out as nice and deep and perfectly as he always does. You mewl. This was not supossed to happen at all. ��

"See? This is what you really wanted." you can hear the chuckle threatening to spill from his lips, anger starting to boil inside of you again. 

Regaining a little bit of your lost control, you lift yourself on your trembling knees and sit back again, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix. You groan in unision, placing your hands on the hard planes of his chest and steadying yourself to try to reclaim your dominance. Finding it troublesome, because Jungook is set on having it his own way, his thrusts meeting yours in perfect synch.

You really shouldn't feel your climax approaching so soon but somehow battling for control while bickering with Jungkook is about to send you over the edge and that's making you even more annoyed.

"I swear to God, Jungkook. If you don't stop moving and shut the fuck up..." your murmur through gritted teeth, jaw slackened and eyes fluttering shut.  

"What?" he spats, breathing rugged and voice coarse. "If I don't shut up, you'll wha-"

The sound of a sharp smack echoes inside your room and Jungkook's movements freeze on the spot. His head is turned to the side from the impact, and a faint print of your fingers is adorning his  already stinging cheek. None of you mutter anything for a few seconds, until concerned words start to rush out of you.

"Ohmygod, Jungkook, I-"

"Did you just slap me?" Jungkook is unmoving, his mouth agape and you can picture the incredulous expression his eyes might be oozing. "Baby, what the fuck?!" You're mortified. Your hands cover your mouth and your eyes, wide open, stare down at him although he can't stare at you back.

"Babe, I don't know why I did that, you wouldn't stop talking and I know that's not an excuse but it-" 

"It was fucking hot." a breathy laugh in disbelief leaves his chest. Your forehead creases, hands falling down to your chest to try to steady your incessant heartbeat. His tongue darts between his pearly teeth, a smug smirk on his features. An eyebrow of yours raises as you size him up, the realization that his body is completely motionless now hitting you.

Lurging forward, you pinch his jaw between your fingers, your hips carry on their grinding on their own accord. He releases a raspy moan, your walls clenching around him as another hit strikes his cheek, softer this time. 

"You gonna be good to me?" you mutter against his lips. He nods slowly, his mouth salivating as your hips swirl on top of him. He blindly tries to reattach his mouth to yours, but you dodge him, going for the skin of his clavicle instead. "Can I fuck you slow like this until you're filling me with your cum?" He squirms when he feels you sucking a pretty purple bruise on his flesh, your cunt dropping all the way down his cock, leisurly grinding against his pelvic bone, looking yourself to find some relief to your clit. 

"Ah!" his head tilts back, back slighlt arching as you soothe the mark on his neck with your tongue. "That m-might be s-sooner than you think, babe" he admits timorously, swallowing the lump in his throat, the veins on his neck on full display. 

You sigh in content because, thankfully your orgasm is also closer than he thinks it is. "M-me too-" you gasp, your face buried on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush his ebony hair, nails gently scrapping his scalp as you keep the tortuous movements of your hips against his, his girth hitting that spot just right everytime until you feel the knot in your tummy finally snapping. "C-cum, J-Jungkook, I-m-"

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he has been holding back from it for a while now, not really willing to admit he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a thrust of his own fused with the way your pussy is tightening around him it's enough to send him over the edge, an unpredicted cry emanating from his vocal chords harmonizing with your own, his whole body tensing as your walls milk every single drop of his cum. 

For several minutes you stay just like that. Jungkook's hands still tied, blindfold still on, his mouth still agape as his chest rises and falls until his breathing becomes steady again. And you, on top, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your breath fanning against his neck and his release dripping down your thighs. You stay like that until your body starts shaking with uncontrollable laughter. 

Jungkook tilts his head towards yours, eyebrows furrowing and eyes still covered.

"What was that noise?" you manage through your giggle fit. "'Aaah!'" You've never made a noise like that before, I can't- it was so funn-"

Even while still being strained and blindfolded and with you making fun of him, a loopsided goofy smirk starts making an appearence on Jungkook's features. 

Fancy dinner parties were never your thing. 

Wearing heels that were too high -specifically to try to match Jungkook's height-, a new expensive dress that you were surely going to return as soon as the event was over because you definitely could not afford it and socializing with Jungkook's clique was definitely not the way you envisioned your Saturday night going. 

At least Jungkook had barely been able to keep his hands for himself at the sight of you wrapped in emerald green silk and lace. But even that couldn't make you feel less uncomfortable and out of place. 

Yugyeom, one of Jungkook's friends, had definitely more money than your boyfriend had previously let you know. Apparently, being a 'lil rich' as Jungkook had mentioned meant booking a luxurious restaurant to hold a dinner party with at least fifty people who looked just as 'lil rich' as Yugyeom's Gucci tuxedo.  

'It'll be alright babe. Yugyeom always insists on celebrating his birthday like it's an Oscar after party. We'll just eat some of that disgusting caviar and then head home to watch Netflix, I swear'. 

And yes, caviar was gross, but so was the fact that Jungkook had failed to mention a certain someone would also be making an appearence. 

After introducing you to a few of his friends and realizing that Mingyu's frendliness and amiability helped you feel more relaxed, he had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and his friend to entangle in a heated conversation about How I Met Your Mother's finale season. 

You were thankful for Mingyu's humble nature and easygoing talk for a few minutes until you finally spotted your boyfriend making his way back into the room, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge a group of friends from his class. 

Again, you wouldn't have such a problem with a certain blonde if she would just stop looking at Jungkook with stars in her eyes and pressing her cleavage against him while playing with her hair. It was hard to keep track of your conversation with Mingyu while Eunha was standing right next to your boyfriend and seemingly ogling up at him. It was also hard to not let your mind waver to dangerous territory when you took notice of how disgustingly good they looked together. 

Just two attractive people who would look disgustingly good together. 

Mingyu's voice makes you turn back to him. 

"...I don't know, like, Barney was a womanizer until Robin, you know? He changed for her! They were just perfect for each other, but they had to throw it all away by killing the mother and then making Robin marry Ted? And Barney going back to his old ways?" Mingyu sounds exhasperated and you would laugh and find it cute if your stomach wasn't tugging again in a way that made you regret drinking so much wine so fast. Specially after his last statement.  

"That's what I'm saying." you mumble, turning your attention back to your boyfriend in the crowd.

Jungkook wouldn't go back to his old ways. He loves you. There's nothing to worry about.

But as you watch him start to make his way towards you, you also watch the way Eunha grabs the sleeve of his blazer to pull him back. She leans in, whispers something in his ear to which he just shakes his head, says something that it's impossible to decipher from here you're standing and simply walks in your direction. 

Still, as much as you tried to be neutral and objective and not a 'jealous little bitch', it's almost impossible to hide the sour expression on your face. It's impossible to unclench your jaw throughout the entire evening or lose the too tight grip on your glass of wine. Even when Jungkook whispers in your ear if you're okay, you merely nod yes. You avoid eye contact with him and everytime he tries to slip your hand into his, you dodge him it by wrapping your arms around yourself, claiming how cold it is.

Jungkook is not dumb. 

He know something's up but he's also not stupid enough to cause a scene in public or preassure you into talking. So he settles on wating and being patient. Even as he slips his jacket on your stiff shoulders with pouty lips and his eyebrows drawn together, all he does is press a small kiss to the back of your neck. It takes all power within you to not throw yourself in his arms. 

But as midnight approaches and it's time to leave, you notice a change in Jungkook's behaviour as you say your goodbyes. His hand on your back is not just a soft caress, instead, his fingers pull you closer, dig into your skin as he drags the both of you to where his car is parked. Now it's him who avoids your gaze. His tensed jaw and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek is a visible indicator that Jungkook is pissed. 

You know his body language as well as he knows yours. And now, as he opens the door of the passanger seat so you can slide in, the guilt and the remorse of acting cold towards him for hours is finally dawning on you. 

"Are you going to tell me now what was that about?" when he closes his own door shut, he doesn't bother to put his seatbelt on. Just grips the steering wheel as he turns to you. 

"I-I don't know what you're t-"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" he laughs, not a bit of humour in it. "I know scenes like this make you feel uncomfortable but I actually thought everything was going fine. I leave you for five minutes with Mingyu and when I come back, you won't look at me, won't touch me, won't act like I'm your boyfriend. Like I did something wrong. So please, _____, tell me, what's going on?"

You know there's no excuse for the way you acted. You know it's not Jungkook's fault he attracts attention and it most definitely not his fault if an ex of his is still hung up on him. You know it's your own fault and you know you should not try to excuse yourself and fight back. You'd swore to yourself you'd push down any feelings of jealousy deep inside until they disappeared. But something about tonight makes you explode.

"Why was she being all over you?"

Jungkook's face twists in confusion. "What? Who?"

"Eunha! Who the fuck else? She was all over you a few weeks ago at Minghao's party, and she was all over you tonight!" your voice is louder than you would've liked but at this point all you care about is letting it all out.

"This is what all of that was about? Eunha?"

"Yes! I've seen her on campus as well! Always trying to get your attention! I don't care that you have friends in common, but specially tonight, she whispered something to you and she was looking at you like she-"

"Who cares how she looks at me? All you need to care about is how I look at you because the only thing I care about is how you look at me!" Jungkook exclaims, clearly exhausted of this conversation. 

You sink in your seat and look away as the knuckles on his hands turn white from gripping the steering wheel. 

"_____," he calls you gently,  but his voice mantains a stern tone to it. "We don't do jealousy. I thought we were supossed to trust each other blindly. Have I not proved to you how sickenly in love with you I am? Do you not trust me and what I feel?"

"I-... Of course I do. I-just... I don't know. You're right. That was uncalled for." you wrap yourself in the warmth of Junkook's blazer, trying to make his scent wash away any ugly resentment and guilt in your body. 

"Wanna know what she said to me?" a rethorical question, because he was going to tell you anyway. "She asked me if I was going to stay for Yugyeom's after party, way past midnight. Wanna know what I said?" he turns to you. "I said no, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend."

None of you say nothing after that. He just puts his seatbelt on and starts driving. It's not too much of a far drive to his dorm, but the silence and the awkwardness makes it feel so much longer than it should be. You don't remember the last time Jungkook was mad at you. Actually, you don't think Jungkook has ever been mad at you. He loved the banter, loved to tease you, loved being competitive with you. But you had never seen him being avoidant of you. And that feeling tears your heart on the seat of his car.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, voice barely audible, when the car stops at a red light. His dark eyes meet yours, his face immediately softening as he studies your expression. Then he picks one of your small hands in one of his big ones, brings it to his lips and lightly kisses your knuckles. He communicates with his eyes what he doesn't with words and it's enough to make you feel secure, at least for now.

When you finally arrive at Jungkook's room, he holds the door ope for you and lets you walk in, but he's still unusually quiet. So much so, you start to worry you might have fucked up big time. 

You stand there, not knowing what to do as you watch him sit down on his bed, slipping his shoes and socks off and loosening the tie around his neck. His hair, that was perfectly styled a few hours ago, is now messy by the amount of times his hand has pushed it back. He looks too yummy, and you hate the fact that tension and a little bit of fighting has managed to make him look as delectable. 

You ignore the heat starting to form in your belly because now it's not the time to be horny. Not when you still need to apologize and make things right. He's rolling  the sleeves of his black shirt down his forearms when you decide to speak. 

"Jungkook, I'm very sorry." you start, as you remove his blazer off you and place it on the chair right in front of his desk. "I don't know why I acted the way I did. I dont get easily jealous and I really don't think I am but..." your throat constricts your words for a moment. "The more I love you, the more frightened I get when I think that one day you'll realize I'm better off as your best friend's little sister. I-I dont know what I'd do with myself if that ever happene-"

"Take off your dress." Jungkook's impassive voice and emotionless face startles you and you freeze on your feet. 

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

His elbows rest on his knees and he's holding your stare with his. His doe eyes lack that free spirited and amusing glint they usually have. He looks bored, scrutinizing you. He's not challenging you. He's commanding you because he knows you will obligue. 

That's why you gulp and slowly slide the straps of your dress down your arms until the fabric pools at your feet. His eyes waver along your naked breasts, nipples perking up like the mere intensity of his gaze is ordering them to. He doesn't make a move and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He doesn't compliment you like he normally would at the sight of you almost naked in front of him.

His lack of words make you feel insecure, regardless of how turned on you are. You're used to Jungkook being reassuring, you're used to his lighthearted jokes and his playful kisses in the bedroom. But you're not used to Jungkook telling you what to do and keeping his distance while doing so. Your arms move on their own to hide yourself.

"Don't. If you hide from me, I swear to God, _____." he watches you as you let your arms fall back to your sides, your chest moving up and down while you struggle to breathe. You can't deny Jungkook's gruff voice and his eyes studying every bit of skin available to him like he hasn't seen you naked before is not making your underwear stick to your lower lips. 

"JK, I just don't think this is the right moment to-"

"On my lap." your heart skips a bit, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

"Jungkook-"

"I said, get on my lap, face down." he says again, this time slower. One of his eyebrows quirk up. "Or would you rather me drag you myself? Or make you crawl?"

Your eyes widen, and your feet are quick to approach him. Your nipples tingle, your core is throbbing and your cheeks are adorned by a beautiful blush that Jungkook doesn't miss. 

He doesn't move until you're in front of him, just to help you lower yourself on his lap, your cheek and your nipples touching the mattress and your ass up. You close your eyes when Jungkook skims his fingertips over your skin, his carressing relaxing your body until he eases your nerves a bit. He sighs when he notices the way that poor excuse of a thong sticks between your folds as his strong hands massage your buttcheeks. 

He's taking his time, his fingers gliding over your soft skin, his breathing too calm for your liking. Until one palm of his hand collides sharply against your right cheek, sending your body forward. You gasp, the stinging making your body want to pull away. But he's quick to catch both your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place. 

"Jungk-!"

Another smack, this time harder, on the same cheek. 

"Did I give you permission to talk?"  

Smack. This time on the left cheek. Your back arches on its own will, presenting more of your ass to him unwittingly. Your eyes squeezed shut and bite the inside of your cheek as you rub your thighs together. You keep quiet as his hand lands another blow on your ass. 

"That's a good girl. Now," his voice is gentler this time as his hand soothe your reddened cheeks. "do you think what you did tonight was okay?" you say nothing, only a mewl slips past your lips. Another smack. "Answer me."

"No." you lick your lips, anticipating more. 

"Do you think it was funny to pull a stunt like that?" 

Smack.

"N-no!"

"No, it wasn't. Spread your legs for me." you do as you're told and he finally pulls down the drenched piece of lace down your thighs. He leans forward, spreads your cheeks with one hand as he lets a glob of spit fall directly into your lips. He makes you gasp when his fingers start sliding up and down your folds slowly. 

"I've had to put up with this kind of behavour since the day you begged me to fuck this tight, virgin pussy like the little slut you are." you whine, face red as humiliation starts to creep in. Jungkook slips one finger in, pumping it slow and easy. Your hips move to take him deeper.

"I tried to be a gentleman, you know?" he says, adding a second finger. "I've tried to treat you nice and sweet and be the best boyfriend I could be to make you happy and keep you satisfied in every sense of the word." his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tortuous circles. 

"Been compeletely whipped since I kissed you for the first time. Haven't looked at other girls because I just can't when I have everything I want to look at right in front of me." murmuring, he starts to get lost your pussy and how it swallows his fingers and how obscene you look and sound, dripping right on his trousers. He watches his fingers moving in and out, almost hypnotized. "Yet, somehow..." he pulls away. You whimper in protest. 

"Somehow, you still seem to doubt me." His hand smacks your cheek again, wet fingers spreading your essence all over your skin.

"P-please, please." you cry. You miss Jungkook's sadistic smile before he releases the grip on your wrists, still keeping you on his lap. Both his hands spread your cheeks now, and another glob of spit falls right into your asshole. His fingers find your cunt again, easily taking you almost over the edge.

"If you could only look at yourself right now... All spread out for me like a needy whore in heat" his thumb teases your unexplored rim, hesitantly, coating it with his spit and your own arousal. He presses in slowly. You gasp, your body tenses and Jungkook stills his movements immediately. There's silence for a few seconds. 

"Too far? Should I stop?" and there's your Jungkook, concern lacing his voice. His free hand caresses your back, your body relaxing, laying back down obediently. His fingers are still inside you and his thumb is still asking for entrance. He leans forward, placing a small but comforting kiss on the bruised skin of your right asscheek. 

"Go on." you whisper, but he doesn't move right away. This time, it's his own body that tenses momentarely before going back to his tranquil demeanor. He breathes through his noise as his fingers pick up where they left off. 

"Yeah?" you swear you hear him swallow a lump in his throat. "Gonna let me finger this tight little ass like a good slut? Mm?" his thumb slides deeper, slightly stretching you out while his fingers work your pussy in a solid rhythm. "Gonna let me stretch you out little by little until I can open you up with my cock one day?" his movements speed up, fingers sliding out of your cunt to play with your clit and his thumb slowly moving in and out. "You don't wanna talk now? You just want to stay silent while I fuck your ass and-"

And then you're cumming, so unexpected it takes both of you by surprise. Your hands grip onto Jungkook's sheets, your thighs clasp around his hand as you scream his name. He doesn't stop though. He rides you through it, encouraging words mixing with filthy insults that prolong your orgasm until you're squirming beneath him. 

"Shit, baby... My hand is soaked." he mumbles, as he slowly removes his fingers and thumb from you. "You okay?"

You faintly nod your head yes, not able to find words through your dry mouth and your pussy still convulsing. 

"Good. Get on the bed. On your hands and knees." 

You somehow manage to slip from his lap and position yourself as he says. Except your arms and legs are shaking. Although the sound of Jungkook undoing his belt and his hands gripping your hips and bringing you towards him until the head of his dick is at your entrance is enough to make you forget about how tired your body is. You surrender to him, not even bothering to hold yourself up on your arms, your fingers crumbling the sheets and your face buried into the pillow. 

When his cock enters you, a pitiful moan leaves your mouth. His thick lenght slides into your heat, filling you perfectly as he always does. It's a wonder how well he fits inside you. 

"Such a perfect slut for me. Always ready for me to do whatever I want with her, since day one. So tight, so ready. So, so perfect. All mine." he talks as measured as he moves, dragging each word out as his hips find a nice tempo. 

Then he doesn't move for a while with his dick buried between your walls, and you know he's holding himself back. You turn your head slightly to look at him. He catches your eyes instantly. Sees your mascara running down your watery eyes, and your smudged lipstick and your messy hair and then he's giving you that look. That look that lets you know that Jungkook is, indeed, whipped for you. Leaning in, he presses his shirt-covered chest to your sweaty, naked back. His cock dives deeper, not an ounce of space between you as he lovingly kisses your cheek until his mouth finds yours. 

He kisses you hard but soft, tongue meeting yours for the first time since you entered the room. Jungkook is not a man of words. He's silly, and a jokester, and finds it difficult to express how he's feeling. But when he kisses you, or looks at you, when he touches you, or when he makes love to you, even if it's as dirty and filthy as right now, he's always able to transmit exactly what he can't vocally.

He's telling you there's no other place he'd rather be than here, with you. 

When he pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, his hand moves to the back of your head, fisting your hair in a tight hold that makes you arch your back and desperately moan for him.

"A-and you're mine." you sob.

It's like something snaps inside of him. He growls and suddenly his hips lose control. He nails you against the mattress, his grip on your hair pulling your head back, his lips against your ear as your cunt clenches around his cock. 

"Just yours. All yours." his grunts send shivers down your spine and you're close again, even in the painful and uncomfortable position your body is in. Being at Jungkook's mercy and him being at yours is enough to have you seeing starts.

"This is the only pussy I want wrapped around my cock. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss. You're the only one I want between my arms." It only takes two flickers of Jungkook's free hand against your nub and his next words to tip you over. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."

You squeal as you come, and Jungkook bites your shoulder to keep himself from doing so as well as he follows shortly. He fills you up with his release,  but he doesn't release you from him. He wraps his arms around your frame, both your bodies becoming soft as he rolls over to one side with your back still pressed to his chest, cock still inside you. His lips find their way to the skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. His breath fanning your flesh makes you smile.

"That is so not like my sister. I'm telling you, she never gets jealous." Taehyung says over the phone. He's munching on something again and Jungkook would bet all the money in his wallet again he's eating Skittles. Red Skittles. "So, everything cool now?"

"Yeah, man. We just talked it out, you know?" Jungkook's gaze falls on you, laying on your stomach on his bed, laptop iluminating your face, earbuds on and your head moving to whatever music you're listening to. Jungkook would bet all the money in his bank account it's Shape Of My Heart by The Backstreet Boys. Or at least that's what he's been able to guess so far. He was never good at reading lips, specially when trying to guess boybands' lyrics. 

Friday's nights meant late 1990's/early 2000's pop nostalgia for you. It meant shaking his head and spending the following week trying to get Britney and Xtina songs out of his brain for him. Although lately, he hadn't been trying that hard. Jungkook sighs in content, not really trying to cover the fact that he might be looking at you like a starstruck teenager. Which, it was totally fair because that's exactly how he feels about you. "Communication is key, bro."

He keeps watching you until your head perks up and catch him gawking. You smile at him and he smiles back.

"By 'communication is key' you mean you actually fucked my little sister silly right? Bro, I swear, I'll block your numb-"

"Sorry man, gotta go." 

"And now you're gonna fuck her silly again, right? You son of a b-"

Jungkook hangs up just as you take your earbuds off, making his way to you to kiss you silly.

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

���he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

[corysmiles]

IT'S HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRREEE!! The longest oneshot so far! XD Hope you like it

cw: general themes of hunger, blood, semi graphic description of violence. Be warned!

-----

Phil decided to visit early today, entering the cave and waving at Techno, who immediately recognized him. He moved closer and, while still hesitant, grabbed him and moved him at eye level. It was nice. A bit unnerving, but nice. Phil laughed and hugged two of techno’s fingers before he put him on the counter.

They spent most of the evening sharing stories and getting more comfortable with touch. They even made some progress, techno’s hand not shaking as much when he wrapped his fingers around Phil!

It would be an hour still before Wilbur and Tommy came. So Techno figured it was time to shrink to human size if he wanted to spend some time with them after dinner as a giant. He went and reached the shelf with the bottle. Phil simply whistled and looked around. He stopped and turned when he didn’t hear any drinking sound. Techno was frozen and he looked horrified.

“Are you alright, mate?”

“It’s empty.” Techno said.

“Oh. Well, looks like today is a stay-giant kind of day-”

“No.” Techno put the thing back. “How could I have missed it?? It’s not supposed to happen…” He swallowed and looked back at Phil, worry clear as day in his eyes.

They stared at each other, Phil trying to read the unspoken words of his friends, but nothing came. “What is it? You often stay at your real size during dinners, what’s up?”

“... I haven’t hunted in days.” He admitted after a couple more seconds of silence. “I don’t have any food for tonight.”

“Oh shoot.” Phil took a couple steps towards techno, reaching the end of the furniture. “That’s no good.”

“We’ll have to cancel the grouped dinner tonight.” The giant looked at his small friend. “I’m sorry, but I have to- I know we all usually look up to these gathering but I can’t- I”

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to panic, mate.” Phil tried to reassure. He only gained a loud whine from techno, that he could feel in his bones. (quite literally, the vibration almost made him shake.) “I’ll tell Wilbur and Tommy.”

Techno stared, unsure, before sighing and letting his arm fall. “Alright, go tell them.”

Phil pulled up his phone, sending a message to both his friends. As he pressed sent, he looked back at techno. He did say he used the potion for food, primarily, but surely he dealt with it before.

“Do you want to go now, or…?”

Techno shook his head. “No. Not right now. Plus you’re still here-”

“Oh that’s no problem” Phil waved off. “I can come hunt with you.”

At that, Techno made a…. cringed, sound? Embarrassed perhaps, Phil couldn’t quite name it, but he was definitely uncomfortable with the idea.

“I don’t… it’s quite… You don’t want to see it.” he put his hand on his face, covering his expression.

"It's alright, mate. You know I'm okay with you being a tall boy." He laughed

"No- I mean… I mean it, Phil. It's gross."

"Well then I'll stay here until you come back."

Techno lowered his hands to look at the human, almost annoyed. He groaned and hid his face once more before the sound became much louder, Phil stumbling a little. "There's no way you're giving up on this, is there?"

"Nope!" Phil said, jumping down and being caught by the giant in a panicked movement "Please learn to warn me when you do that, my heart can't take it" he laughed.

"Wilbur told me to do it like this. Says it's more fun."

"Of course he did."

They stayed in the abode a bit longer, watching the sun setting through the window. Techno at one point decided to try and play his violin again, trying to improve to play with Wilbur one day. And even though it was…. Improvable, to say the least, it wasn't terrible either.

Phil clapped at the end of each song, earning a small laugh from the giant every time. He even tried to dance to one. Fortunately, they were the only ones to witness the carnage that was Phil's stumbly move tied to Techno's cacophony. It ended in unstoppable laughter that shook Phil's entire body.

Phil paced around the table he was now on as the laughs died down. He toyed with what he assumed was a home-made pen, turning it around and moving it like it was a spear. He stopped dead in his tracks, shaken by a loud growl that resonated through the entire room.

He turned around and watched his friend put his hands on his stomach, face red, violin now on the floor.

Phil put on an amused smile. "I think now's a good time to go hunt."

"I-" Techno did not have time to object before another grumble was heard. He shut his eyes and opened them, surrender in his expression."Yeah. It- might be good."

He stood up and offered a hand to Phil. "The hunting area is quite far, though. You might wanna take the ride for this one."

The blond gladly hopped on the hand and Techno brought him next to his chest, fingers curling protectively around his friend who watched the road through the space between the fingers. And so he began to walk.

It was the first actual time he traveled with a giant like that. It was nice. And he was glad he took the offer when he realized how far from the abode it was.

The walk ended up being quite long, Techno's stomach growling a lot during it, seeming almost painful at times by the way his face twisted. And everytime, it felt like the giant wanted to just run away and hide from view.

"You don't have to be embarrassed because you're hungry, you know?"

"I- no, but it's- it's so loud and" another rumble cut him off "it's… a hungry giant is not a good sight. It's scary."

"I don't know about that." Phil replied "you're just Techno, who happens to need food. I don't see any problem with that." Techno snorted half in disbelief, at the naivety of his peer.

"You know my soft side too well. I should start to act scary around you more." Phil bursted out laughing at that.

"Yeah, I know you too well. You wouldn't hurt a fly even if you tried."

Techno hummed

"Except if one of us was in danger. I feel like that's the one scenario where you would go apeshit."

"Yeah. Yeah, probably."

The rest of the ride ended up in comfortable silence (apart from Techno's hunger manifesting in numerous loud gurgles). Techno took a breath of fresh air and looked at his friend. He finally lowered his hand and Phil hopped out, on the grass. He took the view around him. "So this is your hunting spot."

Techno nodded. "I'll need around 15-20 adult preys. Don't really care if it's a deer or a wolf or whatever. Once you're done, meet me here."

Phil nodded and took out his bow "alright. Be careful!" He waved goodbye and only heard his laugh as he dived deeper into the forest.

---

The hunt ended up being nearly two hours long. Phil was surprised by the amount of animals here. It made sense, though, since it was so far away from everything, and the only known hunter of the area only stepped by occasionally.

As he brought back the last body near the pile, he noted that it seemed quite little for his friend still. He frowned. Was his friend trying once again to limit himself, so that he doesn't scare Phil?

He visualised his friend, standing up, and then looked back at the pile.

Of course he was.

He groaned and pulled his hair "oh my god- I TOLD HIM IT WAS FINE- JESUS! What kind of tool do I need to use to hammer the idea down his head right?!?" He sighed. It's not like Techno had a small appetite. Everytime they gathered around, he was the one with the fullest plate. But he always was so much shiftier when at his real size. Even though Phil couldn't blame him, it pissed him off.

And so the hunt ended up being longer than anticipated. But he ended up gathering a pile he judged big enough for his friend. And so he headed back.

As he approached the meeting place, he called out "Techno? You ther-"

He stopped. Dead in his tracks. And watched his friend, sitting on the ground, rigid as a statue, hands placed on the ground, holding something he realized were different cows and sheeps and deer.

"What is he doing?" He murmured to himself, not taking a step closer. There was a few more minutes of silence, during which more creatures climbed on his hand, before the large body shifted.

Phil flinched at the sudden movement. The hand raised higher and higher, too quick to let the animals jump down before his mouth opened, jaw wide, and-

Crack.

In a single motion, all the bodies in his hands were chopped down, their other halves between the giant's teeth.

Phil's body was frozen, and he witnessed wide eyes, as Techno dived in and took the rest of his meal sitting in his hand. It was… animalistic, to say the least. After scratching for every little crumb, he lowered his hands, allowing his bloody jaw to be visible.

It was understandable he didn't want his friends to witness that, he realized.

But Phil blinked out of his trance and stepped in like nothing happened.

"Hey, mate." Techno flinched and snapped his head toward the human, who laughed. "Sorry, should've warned."

"It's... it's alright, Phil." Techno said, licking the blood off his face, trying to hide the previous instance. "Uhm, have you been here for a while?"

"Nah" Phil lied "I just came back."

"Good! Good." He stood up slowly "Can you bring me to the ones you hunted down?"

Phil nodded and turned back, getting to said spot. It was almost comical to see Techno taking a small step everytime Phil made ten long ones, but they arrived quickly.

Techno sat down and his eyes widened when he looked at the pile.

"... that's more than 20." He pointed out. The pile was 3 times Phil's size. There were at least double the amount.

“Yeah.” Phil admitted. “You seemed rather hungry so I thought you might have needed more.”

“I mean, you were not the only one hunting,” Techno laughed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Phil smiled, but it died down a little when Techno shifted, apprehensive. He turned to the blond, a nervous look on his face.

“Mh… Can you- perhaps…. uh… Turn around, maybe?”

Phil gave him a sympathetic smile, before closing his eyes and turning around, sitting legs crossed.

He could only hear the giant, but by the sounds of it, the poor boy was actually famished. He stuffed as much food as he could and chewed fast, and the heavy swallowing sounds made him twitch. Bones were crushed and flesh was torn apart like his life depended on it. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. He did see what it was like earlier after all, but he couldn’t help the silent temptation to turn around and look at the giant in such an intricate, taboo moment.

But Techno trusted him to not do it. Trusted him in this vulnerable moment. One he felt shameful and embarrassed about, and only time could ease this silent pain inside the giant. So, with quite the self control, he kept his eyes shut.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the frantic sounds came to a stop. He furrowed his brows. Still nothing.

Suddenly, he felt a pressure on his head, ruffling his hair. A surprised sound escaped his lips and he laughed as he tentatively opened an eye.

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah” Techno said. “It’s good now.”

Phil turned around and took a small step back when he realized the giant was closer than he thought, hands making a barrier around him, which would be cute if it wasn’t for the crimson red tainting them up until above his wrists. And his face was also covered with blood. He had an almost panicked look as he moved his hands closer. He was panting.

“Hey.” Techno said and gulped, his hands even shaking slightly. Phil could read his thoughts clear as day.

‘Is he scared?’ ‘My hands are so bloody’ ‘Is he gonna run away?’ ‘I probably look like a mess-’ ‘He asked for it, but is he still okay with it?’

‘Is he still okay with me acting like myself?’

Techno was scared. So scared that showing more of him would push him away… But Phil knew better.

And so, to this new side techno showed him, Phil said.

“Hello, mate.”

----

They ended up going back not too long after that, Phil sitting on Techno’s shoulder to avoid the disturbing smell his hands bore. On the way back, Techno let it slip that he hadn’t eaten at all the whole day, hence his need to hunt. Phil scolded him for a good part of the ride about that. But eventually, it ended with smiles and laughs (and a promise to be more careful about techno’s diet. “Well, it’s been in shambles for quite a while” “You are not helping your case here, mate.”)

They entered techno’s abode and next thing Phil knew, he was grabbed gently and placed on the counter. He blinked and saw his friend grabbing a towel and a water bucket.

He chuckled, watching his friends wash away the blood he almost forgot about.

Once clean, techno sighed and turned to Phil. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

He laughed. “I mean, it’s the middle of the night. Kind of late for me to go back. Mind if I sleep here for the night?”

They stared at each other for a while before techno hummed and opened his palm in front of Phil, who hopped into it easily.

He was grabbed and held onto a bit of a squeeze, not sure why until he felt techno falling straight on his bed, not controlling the arm holding phil that much. He screamed at the sudden sensation of falling, but noticed he was fine once the movement stopped. He sighed. “You could warn me about that next time.”

a rumbly “mmhhsorry” was the only answer he got. He laughed as he watched the exhaustion hit his friend. The grip lessened and, slowly, he allowed himself to relax, the heartbeat and deep breathing of the giant soothing him into a good night of sleep.

No, techno was not always soft. Technoblade was not a man of manners. Technoblade could be harsh. He could be intimidating, violent and raw…

Technoblade was kind as much as he could be cruel. Philza was aware of that reality more than anyone else.

And he would not have it any other way.

You’ve done it again, please send love to @melissa-s23 for this awesome fic 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Cant wait for more of the potion au :]

[amyscascadingtabs]

the way you keep the world at bay for me

post-the set up, a.k.a jake taking care of hungover amy, hungover amy taking care of sad jake, and mac caring mostly about himself because he’s a baby 😌

read on ao3

Jake doesn't get a lot of sleep that night, and for once, it's not even Mac’s fault. It's not even due to the pizza parlor simulator game either, although he does play a couple of rounds when Amy's finally snoring next to him after ranting to herself about the babysitter’s club for a solid ten minutes, but not even that can fully distract him from the dull sense of doom that's made itself at home deep in his chest. 

This is bad. Holt wants to see him tomorrow, and Jake knows there will be consequences. There has to be. There should be. He made a mistake, and he's going to get punished for it, and there is nothing he can do but accept his defeat. He already knows what he has to do; the nerve-wracking thing is the fact that it's still hours away, and his brain is spinning too fast for sleep.

He really wishes he could talk to Amy. She's sleeping on her stomach with her mouth open, arms straight out to the sides like she’s trying to push him out of bed, but he still can’t be mad at her. He hasn’t seen her this drunk since before she got pregnant, and he’s seriously worried about the hangover she’ll be sporting tomorrow, but he also knows she did it for him. Because they’re a team. Because she trusts him, sometimes even when it turns out he was wrong.

He wrongfully arrested someone. The sentence keeps repeating in his head, appears pasted in bold font on the inside of his eyelids if he tries to go to sleep, and displayed in luminescent letters on the ceiling of his bedroom when he gives up and opens his eyes again. He should have known better, has learned his lesson time and time again since his early days of constantly glorifying his job and letting his impulsivity get the best of him, and he still made a mistake.

  /

He just wants someone to tell him it doesn’t make him a bad person. If only Amy wasn’t so drunk he’s scared to wake her up right now, Charles wasn’t so devotedly biased in all questions involving Jake’s role as a detective, and Mac wasn’t, well… so completely unable to grasp any of the concepts involved in the question.

Amy lets out another mighty drunken snore, and Jake hopes she will consider it a testament to his love for her that he doesn’t voice record it. He turns his head instead and picks up his phone to go back to the pizza game. Maybe just a few more virtual customers will be able to lure him to sleep.

 ~

 He must have fallen asleep eventually, because when Mac does start babbling to himself over the monitor, the morning sun is shining through the windows, and Amy’s stopped snoring. She’s only moaning uncomfortably to herself now, and Jake’s guessing from her strained grimace that the headache has kicked in hard.

“I’ll get you coffee and aspirin as soon as I’ve checked on Mac,” he whispers to her with a kiss to her neck, and he thinks he sees the hint of a smile as she reaches out for him in what’s probably an attempt of a pat on the back, but ends up more of an unintentional slap to his butt. Or maybe she’s still drunk, and it is intentional. It’s hard to tell.

  /

Mac may have no clue about what’s currently going on with Jake, but at least it’s impossible not to smile when he hauls himself up and rocks back and forth on unsteady feet in excitement over the fact that someone’s coming to get him. He greets Jake with that wide grin that shows off all of his four teeth – two up and two down, and they’ve kept everyone up at night for weeks, but they’re so pearly white and cute so maybe it was worth it – and a laugh that’s been Jake’s favorite sound on Earth since the first time he heard it.

“Good morning, bud,” Jake tells his son as he lifts him up in his arms. “What do you say we get you a bottle and mama some coffee? Hmm?”

“Bah,” Mac repeats. Jake decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and say it means he agrees on the bottle.

“Bottle, exactly. You're so smart,” he says, booping his little nose and smiling as it makes Mac giggle. “Let's try another one. Dada.”

There's a tense moment of them both just staring at each other, and then finally, his son goes,

“Bah.”

“One day,” Jake says with a sigh as he carries Mac out of the nursery. “As long as you say me first, okay? We’ll get there. We’ll practice.”

  /

He puts Mac in the high chair while he tries his best to work the coffee machine and the bottle warmer at the same time. It's trickier than to be expected on almost no sleep, but at least he manages to pour the breast milk from the freezer bag into the bottle and not into his coffee this time. He's only made that mistake once (fine, maybe twice, and he kind of liked how sweet it tasted but he's never gonna tell anyone), but he suspects Amy's never gonna let him live it down. He gets Aspirin from the medicine cabinet while he waits, and puts a couple of slices of toast in the toaster. His own day feels already pretty much beyond saving, but at least maybe he can improve Amy's.

  /

Though, when she stumbles out of the bedroom, still in her pajamas with her huge glasses and hair on end and looking like she's either seconds from being sick or going straight back to sleep, he worries whether she might just be beyond saving, too.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as she gives him one drained look before walking up to the couch and face-planting on it with another pained groan.

“I think I might be dead.”

“That's called a hangover, babe. I think you used to be familiar with the concept once upon a time, but I guess it's been a while.” Jake grins at Mac, who only reaches his chubby hands out for the bottle out in response. “Toast?”

“Do I have to?”

“It's going to help.”

“Fine.” Amy pushes her head off the pillow to look at Mac. “He's not drinking the milk I pumped yesterday, right?”

“I poured that out for you. I know they say moderate amounts of alcohol are fine, but, well, you were speaking British.”

“Good call,” Amy mumbles as he puts the coffee, aspirin, and toast down in front of her. “See, this is why I married you.”

Jake just hums, but he does smile to himself as he goes to grab his own cup of coffee.

  /

“I wish I could call in sick to work today,” Amy says between bites of toast, and Jake looks up from where he’s absentmindedly brushing crumbs off the countertop while finishing his own. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“I mean, you did very much go through contractions while managing an entire precinct during a blackout once. You could think about that?”

“No, this is worse than giving birth,” she states confidently, and Jake has to try very hard not to laugh. “Don’t tell my past self I said that. Or my future self if I ever give birth again.”

“Yeah.” He grimaces. “I’m pretty terrified to go, too.”

“Why?”

“Because yesterday? All of it?”

“Ohh.” Amy sighs. “Right. Maybe we should both just stay home.”

  /

Jake’s about to tell her how much he wishes that was an option when Mac drops the finished bottle against the tray, immediately starting to twist in his seat. Jake unclasps the belt and lifts him out before he manages to rock the chair – that kid’s shockingly strong – and Mac immediately crawls away towards the walker. He doesn’t use it to move yet, but he’s been pulling himself up with it for over a month, and the anticipation is high every time he lets go with one hand only to sit back down on his booty the next second. Sometimes Jake could swear his son does it for attention. At least Mac doesn’t seem to have inherited his impulsivity, Jake thinks, and then he’s back to beating himself up in his head.

  / 

“I just don’t know why I did it,” he mutters as he sits down on the floor next to Amy’s head on the couch. She nods slowly, and Jake takes it as a sign she might actually be able to listen to him now. “I should know better, right? These are, like... the kind of mistakes I used to make. I thought I’d gotten better at this kind of stuff. Smarter. Less impulsive. Less of a bad cop. But instead I arrested and tailed an innocent man, all because I thought I had a gut feeling and thought I was being set up.” He shakes his head. “I guess that FBI jerk was right about gut feelings.”

“You’re a great detective,” Amy says without missing a beat. “A lot of the time, your gut feeling is right.”

“That doesn’t excuse it. I still shouldn’t have done it.”

“No.” Amy sighs. “You shouldn’t have.”

“It sucked.”

“Yeah. It did. But there’s nothing you can do to change it now.”

“Do you think I’m a bad person for it?” The question comes flying out of him, and Amy frowns.

“Why would I think that?”

“Because it was a shit move! And because I’m definitely gonna get suspended for it, and that’s going to lose us money. And then we’re not going to be able to save as much for Mac, or pay for his baby music class or baby gymnastics. And then he’s going to end up broke and untalented and it’ll all be my fault, and then you’ll be ashamed of me and leave me and I’ll die sad and alone in a ditch.”

“And you don’t think you’re spiraling just slightly right now?” Amy asks. The smile on her lips is one of amusement, and it humbles him, bringing him out of his cycle of self-pity.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she says, and that does make him feel a bit better. “I think you made a really stupid mistake. There's no getting away from that. I’m not happy about it. But… I know you'll take responsibility for it. That’s already a whole lot further than a lot of people care to go.”

  /

Her fingers brush through her hair, calming him as she speaks. The hangover has made her voice a little scratchy, Jake notices when she's this close. It reminds him of mornings after long evenings out before they were parents, a time that always feels far longer ago than it was. Sometimes he thinks everything before Mac might as well be another lifetime.

  /

“And we'll work it out if you do get suspended,” Amy continues, talking over the obnoxious melody playing from a toy Mac has found. “It's not great, of course. But we can save lots of money on daycare if you stay home with Mac. That helps.”

“Like a paternity leave,” Jake says. He does like that thought.

“Oh yeah.” Amy laughs. “You’ll be just like one of those hip Scandinavian dads who get to stay home with their kids because they live in countries where they don’t hate people for having kids. And you two can go to all of the cool classes and playdates together. You’d be the sexiest dad at baby swim class for sure.”

“Wouldn’t I also be one of the only ones?”

“Good point. Make sure to mention your wife a lot. But hey, Mac’s going to love it.”

 /

As if wanting to confirm Amy’s point, Mac crawls over to Jake and tries to climb up on his knees to sit in his lap. He does this sometimes when he’s playing on his own; retreats to their arms for a hug or a quick cuddle, only to try and wriggle out of their grip and go back to whatever it is he’s doing in the next moment. Jake thinks it might be one of their son’s sweetest qualities. Mac rests his head against Jake’s chest, almost hugging him like that, and he wonders, not for the first time, how a person that’s not even one year of age can make every other issue in the world seem so insignificant. Even if it's just for a moment, it's a pretty damn good moment.

 / 

Fueled by the most powerful motivation of all – their son’s love and attention – Amy sits down on the floor too, patting her knees.

“You want to come to mama, Mac?”

Mac squirms for a moment in Jake's arms, and Jake lets go of him. Using the couch as support, for a second it looks like he’s almost about to take a step toward her. Both parents gasp in anticipation, and it must confuse him, because he reacts by giving Amy a shocked look and sitting right back down on his butt. Jake laughs as their son crawls away again, heading for the soft building blocks outside the playpen.

“He's such a tease.”

“He gets that from you,” Amy says, and Jake huffs in mock-offense. “Are you sure we shouldn't just stay home from work?”

  /

Jake thinks of his upcoming meeting with Holt. He's been fearing it for so many hours now, and he's starting to wonder if the anxious anticipation might just not be worse than the meeting itself. He already knows what he has to do; the only thing left is to rip off the band-aid.

“I don't think it will make anything better if we don't.”

“Yeah.” Amy sighs, closing her eyes and leaning on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And you should probably shower and put on makeup unless you want everyone to know exactly how hungover you are.”

“I know you're right, and I hate it.”

Jake grins and strokes her hair before getting up from the floor. “I’ll go get Mac ready for the day.”

  /

“Jake?” Amy calls out before he can leave for the nursery with Mac in his arms, and he turns around. Her voice is still a little hoarse.

“Yeah?”

“It's going to be okay, babe. We’ll figure it out.”

 / 

Jake brushes his fingers through Mac’s already unruly curls. He thinks of playground dates, the storytime for toddlers their library holds every Wednesday, and how much time he’ll have to make sure Mac says his name first now. Then he thinks of the bigger image; of daring to set a good example for this child, even when it's hard. If he wants the world to be a better place for his son, he's going to have to start by taking responsibility for his own actions.

“Yeah. I know.”

  /

For the first time that day, he dares to believe it.

[dreamii-yume]

food play with daddy trey

food play with daddy trey

food play with daddy trey

Hi! This is still the continuation of Trey’s Birthday Crumbs, despite the fact that it had already passed! ヽ(；▽；)ノ Something happened at Yume’s place that made her unable to finish the rest of his Birthday Crumbs in time so~! Hope you don’t mind if you receive it one day late! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I’ll be posting Birthday Crumbs that I was unable to post yesterday because I don’t want to settle for just one Birthday Crumb for Daddy Trey! (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) im hornii

It started out as simple, childish game of who can smear icing over the other.

You, who thought it would be fun to slap a piece of delicious cake onto the birthday celebrant’s face, was laughing throughout, despite the look Trey had given you right after. Never did you ever thought that he’ll scoop out a piece himself and ran them down on your cheeks. Dumbfounded, of course, you thought it’s just best for you to steal back your honor and let’s just say it all goes down hill from there.

Thank god Riddle and the rest of the Heartslabyul students wasn’t anywhere near. If Ace and Deuce were there, it’ll turn out to be a literal food war with Cater filming all of it and probably uploading it to Magicam where the rest of the world can see the chaos that had befallen Trey’s birthday party. Of course, it would definitely end after the Dorm Leader himself had decapitated you all off your head, risking another comedic timing of an overblot. Luckily for the two of you, none was ever present, probably the reason why you chose this time of all time to play a prank on your senior. With a few wasted confectionery thrown here and there, the both of you had reached each other’s limit and ammo being the food.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, you fell down on the soft couch with Trey still straddling over your stomach, ready to paint your face with icing anytime. “You’re such troublesome kid, who do you think is gonna clean all this up, huh?” Trey raised an eyebrow as if to scold you like a parent to a child, but an amused smirk was on his face. He kept you locked underneath him even as you wriggle out, laughing with your sides hurting. “Riddle’s gonna cut off both our heads if he walks in with all these mess, you know~?”

“Haha~! Don’t blame it all on me! You’re the one who fought back, Trey-senpai” You argued, wiping the tears that had escaped the sides of your eyes whilst laughing like a mad man. “All I did was to poke a little icing on your handsome face and you went to slam a whole piece on me twice as much! Of course, it would turn out like this!”

Trey twitched slightly at the way you casually complimented his looks. “A little, you say~?” A slight vein popped out of his forehead, irritated by your lie as he remembered how that little piece of an icing had on basically knocked his glasses off the first time it landed. “Since when did you become so cheeky, huh?”

You shrugged, smiling ever so smugly, an action you rarely give and yet, Trey felt as if it’s an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while. “Who knows~?” You said, essentially ignoring his point before turning to the side and marvelling at the mess. “Uwah...This will take forever...”

As you were distracted trying to come up with ways to clean the room faster, Trey began to realize his current position. Hovering above you with your body placed between his legs on the couch, his hands supporting his weight so he doesn’t fall off. What a suggestive position and yet, you’re so relaxed and laid-back about it, as this was the most normal position to be in. Almost like you’re not being held down by a guy who can eat you up if he so desires.

With all those icing all over your face, neck, arms, and even thighs, it’s possible, you’re not making yourself any more safer here. Trey glanced down at your body, your shirt were slightly hitched up, showing your soft-looking abdomen. He gulped, any skin exposed on you was making him unusually hungry, like he just wants to take a bite out of you. “Ah, by the way, Trey-senpai, could you please get off now? You’re getting a little-“ You turned back to Trey, only for him to lean in close to your face and licked some icing on your cheeks, like a wild animal. “...heavy...”

“W-What!?” You exclaimed as you began to panic in your spot, moving excessively until Trey gripped your shoulders down. You blushed profusely as he began to go down where you neck is and shivered as you can feel his tongue lapping against your skin. “A-Ah...! T-Trey-senpai...!?”

One of his hand went down, causing you to let out a squeak as you felt how cold it is once it went underneath your shirt, caressing your stomach. Trey finally lifted his head up, his eyes carrying an air of seduction in them. “Sorry, you look so appetizing that I got a bit hungry, you see...” He said, making you blink in confusion as you began to process what that means. He sat up, still won’t leave from his position of being above you with a smirk that never seem to disappear from his face. “But since you’re the one who started all of this...”

“I’ll have you take responsibility for it.” He finished as he pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare torso.

“Eek...!?” You sqeaked in response, automatically clenching on the sofa sheets. Nervous sweat poured out of your pores as you looked up at Trey. “H-Hey...? Trey-senpai, um...”

Reaching out for something beyond your vision, Trey holds out his hand, showing you what seems to be a fair bottle size of honey. You blinked, was that there the whole time or...? You have no idea on where he got that from. As you racked your mind trying to figure on what he was going to do with the bottle, a shiver went up your spine as he began to drizzle some on your bare skin of your stomach. “Trey-senpai!?” You called out again, shifting as he began to spread the sticky substance everywhere he could.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad~” He said as he suddenly buried his sticky fingers inside your mouth, earning a muffled whine. He pinched your tongue, forcing your taste buds to taste the sweet liquid. “Honey is good for you.”

You accidentally moaned under his touch, causing a small but smug smile to appear on your senior face but chose to not say anything. Instead, he went to focus back down on your honey-covered abdomen. Sticking out his tongue, he gave it a long sensual lick, enjoying how you practically melt under his touch. You kept on letting out muffled noises as his fingers kept on digging against his throat, spreading the flavor inside your little cavern. Though, you did found your own tongue unconsciously lapping up his fingers, unable to resist the sweet taste of honey from them.

Trey kept on licking you up until there were no more honey left on you, just his own saliva marking you the same spot on where you are. His fingers teased your tongue, enjoying the little whining sounds you make as you struggled underneath him. Licking his lips, he looked up at you before pulling his fingers out, smirking at how flushed you look. “...Well? Are you not gonna fight back~?” Trey raised his eyebrow, a sign of challenge, provoking your ability to act. “It felt and tasted good, didn’t it?”

You glared at him slightly, pouting at how arrogant he looked, but were too dumbfounded to even reply an equally smart comment. Seeing how lost you are for words, Trey chuckled before grinning in victory. “Maybe next time, don’t play with your food, okay?” He said, surprising you as he hoisted your bra upwards, revealing how perked your nipples are. You gasped as he sticky hands grasped one plum breast, moaning as he entangled your nipple around his fingers. He gave the other a fine lick, making them harder by coating them around with his own saliva. “...Because this is what happens to bad kids like you who do.”

You reminded yourself not to take Trey-senpai lightly anymore from that point on. Unless you want to be mistaken as a delicious cake that everyone wants to feast on at least. Everything this guy said should not be taken too seriously nor too lightly, a valuable lesson has been taught...In the hard way.

Haha! Yume doesn’t know how to food play lol I haven’t written anything for it but I thought it’s really interesting to write about it! Little research was done on this so I know how much it reeks of inexperience! (//∇//) Sorry about that~! I’ll promise to improve someday~!

[katzkinder]

Pomegranate Seeds, Give My Life To Thee

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”

Mahiru hates the way his Servamp talks.

There were a number of things Mahiru disliked about Kuro.

Getting oil on the controllers, leaving crumbs and empty chip bags behind, forgetting to take stuff out of his pockets before chucking his dirty laundry into the bin, not managing to make the dirty laundry get to the bin at all, and most annoying was certainly Kuro’s habit of snacking just before meal times.

But these were all small things. Minor things. Things that Kuro had, he had to admit, improved upon since they had begun living together. The sort of things you’d expect from someone who had essentially lived for who knows how long as a bachelor (he thinks? He’s still honestly not sure on just what kind of relationship Kuro and Gear had had in the past. Thinking too hard on it made his heart twist) and then however many decades as a homeless bum. And he was proud of him! Of course he was.

These were things he could overlook. Easily help Kuro improve on. Nag him into submission about, though the housewife and “yes mommy” jokes were getting stale. But there were some things, some habits, some phrases… He just couldn’t stand. And it ate at him.

“This is so troublesome I could just die.”  

“It’s not that big a deal. I’m immortal, after all.”  

“Thanks, but I’d rather kill myself.”  

“Who cares? I’m immortal.”

“I do.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Kuro blinked up at him, lackadaisical in even his surprise at how… Firmly it had come out. The bag of chips, once full of empty calories and now empty itself thanks to the Servamp’s habitual snacking, crinkled noisily in the still air. The burgeoning argument over Kuro’s dietary habits had come to a halt before it even really started, yet somehow Mahiru felt as if it would have been better, simpler to just let it play out like usual.

Mahiru couldn’t find it in him to care. Not when all these bubbling, festering, unpleasant feelings were reaching a boiling point over such a tiny phrase.

He swallowed, Kuro’s eyes flicking down momentarily to track the motion in his throat, then back to his eyes, and Mahiru felt another pang, along with another stroke of anger that quickly cooled to simmering annoyance.

“You’re starving yourself again, aren’t you?”

Kuro broke their impromptu staring contest at the accusation, gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere else in the tiny apartment living room as he literally turned his back on his Eve, returning to the safe, artificial light and colorful world of his handheld.

“I was literally just eating chips,” he mumbled, all the petulance of a child who knows they are guilty in his drawled words. He scooched the empty bag closer to himself, posture practically screaming that he wanted Mahiru to let it alone, let the sleeping lion lie.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“... Why does it matter? It’s not like there’s any danger here. I’m fine. I’m-”

“Yes! I get it! You’re immortal! But... that’s not the problem!”

He was also not very fond of the way Kuro never wanted to address anything until things were nearly as a breaking point.

The heat in his chest was back, along with a bit of bitter satisfaction at the way his outburst had made Kuro turn to really look at him. But then his partner was standing, and the look on his face was so full of concern, gingerly taking the laundry basket from Mahiru’s hands and setting it aside so that they could stand face to face and Mahiru resisted the urge to bow his head in shame. The vampire caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it in a way that worried Mahiru.

A gentle thumb just below it made Kuro freeze, sanguine eyes widening ever so slightly when Mahiru carefully pulled it free, voice uncharacteristically gentle for his scolding.

“Stop that. You’ll make yourself bleed.”

“... Sorry. Didn’t even realize I was doing it…”

“That seems to be a running theme with you.” Mahiru winced ever so slightly at the harsher than he’d meant wording, but Kuro didn’t seem to mind. Or, at the least, was too concerned with other matters to mind at the moment.

“Mahi…” Kuro’s voice had taken on that softer, more raspy quality that Mahiru recognized as sincerity, and coupled with the nickname, he couldn’t help but soften just a bit more himself. “I…” Another pause, Kuro moving to take his lip between his teeth again but managing to stop himself. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mahiru reached for it, carefully interlocking their hands. “What is the problem, then? This… Isn’t just about the blood, is it?”

Biting down a snarky comment, Mahiru replied, “No, it’s not,” gripping the larger hand in his own more securely, knowing far too well that Kuro was liable to bolt. He’d been getting better about that, too, but his issues with taking blood were particularly touchy for him, he’d found. He hoped that, one day, the other would be able to be candid about it with him. To tell him the why and the how. Until then, though... It was better safe than sorry. “But if you keep it up I’ll start hiding it in your food like a cat who won’t take his pills.”     Kuro snorted, relief making his shoulders sag and stiff posture unwind. If Mahiru was joking, it wasn’t that serious. He hoped. “So? What gives. Talk to me. It’s not like you to just… Suddenly explode like that.”

It was Mahiru’s turn to look guilty, staring at their joined hands and Kuro’s pale, almost translucent skin. There was the faintest scar on the webbing of his thumb, and his nails were getting long again. He’d have to trim them for him soon. The vampire, he’d found, was prone to either chewing them down to the quick or clipping them too short. It was simpler to do it for him, and had become part of the routine of their lives. He didn’t mind it. Enjoyed it, even, if only for the excuse it gave him to hold Kuro’s hand, admire his long, elegant fingers and the difference between them and his own sun kissed ones smattered with freckles.

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t even know where to start?”

A finger at his chin, lifting his gaze back to Kuro’s, red, red eyes focused on him and so, so worried.

Why can’t you worry about yourself like that?  

“Keep it simple, then.”

Having his own life motto parroted back to him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. Of course. Simple was best. And simply thinking… He just needed to say what he felt.

“Earlier, what you said…" he began, words slowly picking up steam as he found his voice again, found his thoughts again, "About how you don’t really care, because you’re immortal? It kinda... Pissed me off.”

A stunned look, Kuro once again blinking owlishly at him, no doubt thrown for a loop by the rare swear dropping from the Eve's lips. “O… kay? I won’t… Say it anymore?”

Still missing the point, huh?  

How did he ever end up with such a dumbass vampire?

Mahiru extricated his hand, instead cupping Kuro’s face, ensuring that the vampire of Sloth had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “Just because you’re immortal, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself. In fact, when you don’t, it… It hurts! It hurts a lot. Because you’re important to me. Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you suffer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh." The words were coming faster now, louder, more desperate, as if this were somehow his only chance to get them all out and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. Didn't want to, because holding it in was so much more painful. "And not just that, either! When you say things like you want to kill yourself, or that you want to die, or that it’s fine that you got hurt… I hate those too! I really, really, hate it...”

His voice cracked on the last word, embarrassingly so, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, not when Kuro had a dawning look of realization, not when halting hands were reaching for him as the Servamp’s face twisted with contrite, not when he really, really wanted the hug that was being sort of half offered to him. He stepped forward, let Kuro embrace him, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs and all that awfulness he had been hoarding with it. He really... Wasn't okay at all, was he?

 “It scares me… And I’m sorry I got mad at you-”

 “I’m sorry, too. For not… Noticing that it bothered you so much.”

 “... I mean. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I’m… Kind of really good at hiding when something is bugging me. To be honest…” He snuggled closer into Kuro’s chest, shut his eyes and breathed deep, that mixture of misty mornings and his body wash because of course Kuro was too lazy to pick out his own, all layered over the subtle metallic tang that seemed to cling to every vampire he met. It was soothing. It felt like home, and safety, the same but different as his uncle. Like everything would be okay, if only he just stayed right where he was. “I don’t think I even realized how badly it bothered me myself until just now…”

Kuro hummed, Mahiru feeling the vibrations under his ear and against his cheek. “That seems to be a running theme with you.”

“Ass.” A light thwack to his shoulder, Kuro releasing a little puff of amusement.

“My bad. Couldn’t resist. We’re both… Pretty similar, huh…?”

“I guess so. Who would have thought?”

A pat or two to his back and Kuro drew away, Mahiru reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll clean up my mess, and, um, once I’m done…” The human blinked, head tilting curiously when Kuro cleared his throat, scratched at his cheek. It could sorely use some color. “Maybe we can figure out an, uh… Feeding schedule? Or something?” He gave a helpless sort of half shrug, quickly dropping it when all he got in return was a blank stare. “Sorry, forget it, dumb idea, just thought it would, like, help or something. I dunno-”

 “No!” Kuro jumped at his shout, his anxious rambling cutting off and replaced instead with anxious finger fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands while Mahiru rapidly moved to reassure him. “No, feeding schedule is great! In fact, let me get a marker for the calendar and my phone while you do that.”

It was a small thing. A minor thing. Something that shouldn’t even be a problem to begin with. But it was a step towards getting Kuro to take proper care of himself. To value himself. Even if he was only suggesting it to comfort his Eve…

Mahiru tried and failed to hold down the amused little smile sprouting when he sighted the red at the tips of Kuro’s ears, quickly padding out the living room and leaving Kuro to his task, and the dirty laundry in its basket in the middle of the otherwise clear space.

No matter what the reason, it was a step in the right direction. For the both of them.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Twice’s Reaction to their chubby girlfriend being insecure about her weight

So I’m doing Twice, Red Velvet and Dreamcatcher reactions now so if ya’ll have any requests please feel free to message me! Also! a small nsfw warning for Nayeon, and Sana, it mentions sexual content but nothing major. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

Nayeon

It happened a night when you were on the couch watching TV, that’s when she noticed. Nayeon was being as affectionate as always, planting kisses on your cheeks before moving to your lips and then your neck. Her hands across your shoulders, down your arms, then your sides. You jump, making her chuckle while she moved to plant a kiss below your ear. 

“Mmh, can we take it a step further?” she asks. “I just need you closer.”

You couldn’t react in time to what she did next, her words left you in a daze, a good one that made you jolt from excitement. Nayeon pulls you flush to her, she wraps her arms around your waist, connecting your lips together once more. Her fingers trail down your stomach, making you rigid. 

“C’mon babygirl,” Nayeon whispers. “Sit on my lap.”

You pull away swiftly, moving onto the other side of the couch.    

“Y/N, what’s wrong? D-Did I go too far?”

You wince at how sad she sounds, along with the pout she followed up with.

“N-No, everything was ok, I-I just-”

You wrap your arms around your middle, staring down at your plush thighs.  

“I-I’m too big to sit on your lap,” you mumble. 

Nayeon walks over to your side and kneels down in front of you. 

“Y/N, Y/N look at me,” she says. 

Your eyes meet and she kisses your palm. 

“You aren’t too big, you’re perfect,” she whispers. “You know if you have any issues you can say it, ok?”

“Ok, I-I’m sorry Nayeon.”

“Aw, it’s ok baby,” she said as she leans up to kiss you again. “Now, where were we?” 

Jeongyeon

“C’mon, please?” Jeongyeon whined.

You huffed as your girlfriend pressed her face into the crook of your neck while holding her phone up. She’s been trying to get you to take a selfie with her in her dorm room for the past five minutes.

“No, Jeong, I don’t wanna take the picture.”

“But you look so cute, the fans would love it,” she said. “plus I want to showcase my new hairstyle on Instagram.” 

You wince at the mention of her fans. 

“I don’t think they will. I’m not like you or any of the girls.”

Jeongyeon raises an eyebrow before nudging you. 

“What do you mean?” 

You glance between what you considered more than chubby frame and Jeongyeon’s slim one. 

“I know we’ve announced being together and all, but, why would your fans, who are critical about everything want to see their favorite idol with me?” you asked. “I’m not skinny , we won’t hear the end of it. I won’t hear the end of it.”

Jeongyeon’s brows furrowed as she tossed her phone down on her bed and turned her full attention on you. 

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter what they say,” she said. “you’re my girlfriend, real fans will deal with it and mind their business.”

You nod sharply, but there was still doubt that lingered in the pit of your stomach. Jeongyeon lifted your chin up with her hand, concern written along her face. 

“I mean it Y/N. I don’t care what they say, I love you,” she declares as her eyes go down your body. “All of you.”

“And what if I can’t deal with it Jeongyeon?” you asked.

Jeongyeon wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a deep kiss before pulling back to rest her forehead against your own. 

“Then we’ll deal with it together, ok?”

Momo

You both were cuddling on the bed together eating the burgers and fries you ordered a while ago.  Momo ate her fill, and even managed to sneak a few fries from you with a giggle. You’d usually scold her, or say something about her doing so, yet you let it slide because you weren’t feeling too well about yourself. 

“Baby,” Momo whined. “Don’t let me take all your fries.”

You chuckled and gestured to them by your knee.

“You can have them.”

Momo pouted as she shuffled up closer to you, she didn’t even bother touching the fries. 

“Are you feeling ok beautiful?” she asked. 

You nearly broke at how her eyes held you, along with the small crumbs on her face that added to her innocent look. Once you turn around she cups your face as she adds more pizzazz to her pouty face.  

“Y/N, talk to me,” she groaned. 

“I need to cut back on food,” you said. “Fries especially. I-I’ll get bigger.”

Momo stared at you for a moment as your words processed for her before she got it. 

“Ah, Y/N, you have to eat. I refuse to let you starve.”

“Momo-”

She cut you off with a firm kiss, pulling you against her by the sides, squeezing you a little tight but you didn’t mind. 

“I love your curves, love handles and all,” she explained. “If you wanna lose weight come to the dance studio with me, lose it right. I won’t let you starve yourself jagi.”

“Do you mean that?” 

Momo nodded and planted a kiss to your forehead then lips.

“I do. Now finish your fries.”

Sana

Sana loved cuddles, so did you. However you couldn’t help but push her away when she began to meddle with the string of your pajama pants. Your breath quicken as she pressed hot kisses down your neck. 

“Jagi, can I take the lead tonight?”

“Sana.”

“Please?” she asked. “I can make you feel really goo-”

“S-Stop!” you yelled. 

Sana stopped dead in her tracks, her hands falling away from you while you scurried to the other side of the bed and huddled under the covers.

“I-I’m sorry Sana.”

Sana shook her head. 

“I should be sorry jagiya, are you ok?”

“I-I didn’t mean to yell-I just-”

Sana cooed you as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“Calm down, take your time. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

You pressed your face against her warm neck and let out a deep breath prior to continuing. 

“You won’t like it, I-I’m too big, my thighs.”

Sana pulled back with her eyes glossy and huge. 

“Big? Y/N, you know I love you right? Your thighs are amazing. You’re amazing ok?”

You wrap your arms around her waist as you cuddled closer towards her. 

“Thank you,” you said. “We could still try if-”

Sana shook her head.

“Some other time,” she whispered. “I just want to hold you.”

Jihyo

Your first time at the gym with Jihyo made you feel a bit anxious, you’ve been trying to lose more weight and Jihyo was more than happy to work out with you. The both of you were on treadmills, Jihyo going at a sprint while you stayed at  a brisk jog. She was able to get to three miles in a matter of thirty minutes before she stopped her machine and went to retrieve the cleaning equipment. You frowned at how slow you were going and decided to crank up the pace, moving just as fast as Jihyo was. Heavy pants overtook you as your lungs burned, you struggled to stay upright at the fast pace.

“Whoa, whoa Y/N,” Jihyo said. “Slow down you got to ease into it.”    

She rested her hand on the small of your back as you slow down the pace and stop the treadmill. You breathe in and out in heavy pants as she rubs your back gently. 

“I-I just wanted to-”

Jihyo tells you to breathe in and out slower while she helps you off of the treadmill and cleans it with the paper towel in her hand. Her eyes never left yours, silently telling you to continue.  

“I wanted to keep up with you because I-I need to slim down.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve watched you improve yourself, I-I just didn’t want to seem so fa-”

Jihyo cut you off with a firm kiss on the lips. She pulled you into her arms and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t call yourself that,” she whispered. “You’ll get there ok, it’s a journey that you have to take it slow ok?”

Mina

You and Mina were leaving your local arcade when she happily suggested getting ice cream. When you declined she whined as she squeezed your hand. 

“C’mon Y/N! Your favorite on me! The biggest size you want with all the toppings.”

You cringed at the mention of toppings and shook your head. 

“We’ll spoil our dinner Minari,” you said. “Plus that’s too many toppings.”

Mina frowns.

“You love them though,” she whined, “I just wanna treat you. You played games with me for hours.”

“I can’t have ice cream anymore Mina.”

Mina narrowed her eyes at you as she stopped walking and let go of your hand.

“You aren’t  lactose intolerant,” she noted with a smirk. “I’ve stayed over plenty of times to know.”

“Mina! It’s not that. I-I just-I’ll get bigger,” you explained. “You’re so thin compared to me.”

Mina’s demeanor softened as she wrapped her arms around your waist and gently rubbed your back.

“Y/N, you aren’t big,” she whispered. “You’re fine. We’re both different ok? No matter what size you are I’ll love you.”

“But-”

Mina presses a deep kiss to your cheek before bringing up your hand up to her lips. 

“No buts princess. We’re gonna share the largest size!” she said. “With extra toppings!”

Dahyun   

Dahyun picked up on your insecurities pretty quickly after the last few dates you’ve both been on since you’ve became a couple. You invited her over for dinner for the third time this week, even though she wanted to take you out again. 

“Why not,” she whined. “Are you worried about paying?”

You shook your head.

“It has nothing to do with that,” you said. “It’s got nothing to do with you actually.”

Dahyun tilted her head as she held onto your hand. 

“Then what is it? Are the restaurants too much? Not grand enough? I can totally take you to In and Out-”

“No, no babe that’s fine,” you said. “What’s wrong with eating in our own comfort?”

Dahyun frowned. 

“Nothing I just,” she paused. “It seems like you don’t want to be seen with me.”

Her words made your heart sink. 

“Dubu honey it’s not you, it’s me. I-I see how those waiters look at me whenever I order. The people too. I’m too pudgy.”

Dahyun’s eyes softened as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder. 

“Aw, jagi, you aren’t pudgy. You’re amazing, I want you to feel that way everywhere we go, everywhere you go. Ok?”

You nodded against her shoulder before she planted kisses all over your face. 

“Now get your shoes, I made reservations.”

Chaeyoung

You and Chaeyoung were cuddling in bed when you traced over the tattoos on her arm.

“Babe, that tickles,” she said with a chuckle. 

“I can’t help it,” you groaned. “They’re so dope. I wish I could pull them off.”

“What makes you think you can’t?” she said. “I’d love to see you pull off some ink here.”

She leaned down to plant a kiss on your hand, arm then shoulder. 

“Especially here,” she whispered against your ear as she moved her hands down your waist to your thighs. 

You tense up a bit as Chaeyoung giggled against your neck. 

“You sure? My thighs aren’t the most desirable place.”

Chaeyoung raised her eyebrow while glancing at you in offence. 

“Who thinks that?”

You look down sheepishly at your legs and removed Chaeyoung’s hand from your thigh.

“The tattoo artist will,” you said. “My legs are too big for tattoos.” 

Chaeyoung sat up against the headboard, she brought you up with her. 

“Y/N, your legs are sexy and amazing,” Chaeyoung said. “You’d look beautiful with tattoos. Trust me when I say that.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as Chaeyoung kissed your forehead before capturing your lips.

“Besides, if any tattoo artist or anyone has something to say about your body they’ve gotta deal with me.”

Tzuyu

If there was one thing Tzuyu loved most about you it was your hugs. To wrap her arms around you with her chin resting on the crown of your head while your warmth radiated through her put her at ease. She was going through a tough time, you both were after the Korean netizens started bad mouthing you both over your relationship going public. Tzuyu feared it was because you were a woman, you had the same fear but most of the netizens came after your weight. 

You hadn’t called or talked to her in days, so she decided to come over. She found you huddled on the couch with a blank stare and your phone by your feet. 

“I called a dozen times,” she said, trying to remain monotone, but struggled to. “Why didn’t you-”

“Do you think they’re right?” you asked. “Do you think Twice’s visual Chou Tzuyu can do better than an overweight pig like me?”

Tzuyu’s heart broke at your words, but froze as you began to sob in front of her.

“Y/N! Jagi-”

Tzuyu cut herself off as she darted towards you, embracing you in her slender arms. She cooed you as she rubbed your back gently. 

“I would never feel that way Y/N, ok?” she said. “I-I’m so sorry that they’d put that in your mind and make you feel that way. I’ll make it better ok? I promise.”

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 3: The Wish

Previous Chapter   |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 3,726

Chapter Summary:  Dinner with the royal family is... about what Teki expected.

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: mentions of child abuse, cursing

Tags: @lucywrites02​ @gaitwae

Read it on Ao3!

Her first night as part of the royal family found Teki with trembling palms and a gurgling stomach, fighting to maintain the appearance of composure. Her family didn’t seem to notice her anxiety—in fact, her mother seemed to be having the time of her life before they even left for dinner.

“See?” she beamed at Osvald as she spun Teki around in her new red dress. “It’s finally happening! She’s finally getting the recognition she deserves!”

Osvald studied her with a glittering gaze. Teki was careful to keep her own eyes glued to the floorboards. At some point in the last week, although he hadn’t said when, her stepfather had finally caved to the pain and visited the healers. Her mother had sighed in relief at this news, but Teki had to clasp her hands behind her back to stop them from shaking.

“How wonderful,” he said, smiling. He reached out to stroke a bit of loose hair that her mother hadn’t braided into her bun. His hands were cold on her cheek. “Then I’m certain everyone will be on their best behavior tonight, won’t we?”

Teki nodded. “Yes, sir.”

She was still trembling as she made her way to the royal tables in the feast hall. Stepping on to the raised platform didn’t help. Sure, the feast hall wasn’t nearly as large as the Great Hall, which was used only for festivals and celebrations, but everything seems bigger when you’re standing above it. Hundreds of pairs of eyes held her in their scrutiny. Teki thought she would be sick.

Her seat was at Thor’s right. Unsurprising—he was her fiancé after all, and he always sat at King Odin’s right. But this arrangement also put her at the end of the table, so that her only possible partner for conversation was the Crown Prince. Was that intentional as well?

If it was a ploy to get Thor and her to talk more, it didn’t work. The prince spent most of the dinner in raucous discussion with his father, as if completely ignorant of Teki’s presence at his elbow. They were very loud. Thor’s shouts rumbled the table and pierced Teki’s skull in a way that made the nausea even worse. She spent dinner trying to choke down a slice of bread.

It was weird, thinking about how she was going to marry Thor someday. She knew he was her elder only by a few years but… he seemed so much older. He was so tall, so muscular, with a voice that carried across the hall even when he wasn’t yelling. Just sitting next to him made Teki feel unbearably small. Only a few years between them, but he was already a man, and she still felt like a little girl.

At first, when people started getting up to dance, she feared that Thor would ask her as his partner. There was no way Teki would be able to turn down an offer from the prince, but she was barely holding herself together as it was. However, it seemed her worries were unwarranted. Thor got up without so much as a word to her and nearly flew to Lady Sif’s table amongst the nobles. Had she been feeling a bit better, Teki would have been concerned that Osvald had seen it, but all she felt in the moment was relief.

I’m going to be such a horrible Queen.

It seemed that the night had gone on forever. Everyone was shouting, laughing, dancing, having the absolute time of their life, while Teki only sank lower into her chair. When she sat with her mother, they could leave any time they wanted to. Nobody paid her any mind—she could slip out easily and no one noticed the difference. But here, she was on display for everyone. Here, everyone saw everything she did. It wasn’t fair. Her eyes burned. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this.

Teki jumped when someone plopped themselves down in Thor’s seat, but it wasn’t her fiancé. Loki grinned at her with his sparkling emerald eyes.

“So, Lady Teki, how do you like looking down upon the masses,” he smirked.

Teki forced a smile. “I-I think it’s something I’ll have to get used to, my prince.” Her voice was pathetically small, and she cursed herself.

But Loki was kind enough not comment on her pitifulness. “Oh, I understand,” he agreed. “I imagine this setup is quite jarring.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I still get dizzy up here sometimes.”

Teki exhaled a quiet giggle. She was fairly certain he was only trying to cheer her up, but the thought that the prince got as sick to his stomach as she felt somehow made her feel like less of a failure. “Your secret is safe with me, my prince.”

“I knew I could trust you.” He laughed softly, motioning towards the tables below them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your brother has been trying to get your attention all night long.”

She frowned. “What?” Following his finger, her gaze landed on Brant, who was sitting the wrong way in his chair, frantically waving. When he saw her looking, he jumped and waved even harder. Teki laughed as she returned the wave.

“Has he really been doing that all night?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine that Osvald and her mother would be pleased with him making such a scene, but it seemed her mother was busy conversing with the ladies around her and Osvald was nowhere to be seen.

“I noticed him shortly after the meal began,” Loki chuckled. “He hasn’t stopped since then.”

“Oh Brant.” Teki wondered who cut his meat for him. She couldn’t imagine Osvald doing it. She couldn’t really imagine her mother doing it, either.

The two of them sat on the platform for a while, talking about nothing in particular. Loki carried most of the conversation, telling her the most hilarious stories about his classes—spells that ricocheted off the golden doorframe, potions that overflowed and contaminated the whole room, pranks that he played on the teachers to show off his talent. Some of them were so ridiculous that Teki found herself wondering if he was making them up to make her laugh, but she didn’t question him.

“There’s one woman, Lady Alda,” he was saying, gesturing animatedly as he told the story. “Horrible old hag—she’s the type who gets upset if you read ahead. She believes if she hasn’t taught it yet, then you’re not allowed to know it. I didn’t like that very much, so I read ahead to the transformation section. She had acted as if transformation is the most difficult skill you’ll ever learn, but it’s actually quite easy. So, I taught myself how to do it, and in the middle of class I turned her desk into a dead rat.”

“Loki!” Teki laughed incredulously.

“That’s not the best part! She turns to me and starts demanding that I undo it, shouting so loudly the walls shook The vein was popping out of her forehead, her hair was wild—I swear, she looked like a troll. And I looked her right in the eye and said ‘But Lady Alda, you haven’t taught us transformation yet!’”

Teki was somewhere between enthralled and horrified. “What did she do?”

Loki shrugged. “She told my father. That’s all they ever do. They’re afraid to try anything else.”

She pictured Odin, with his untamed beard and deafening shout. “What did your father do?”

“Oh, he got mad,” Loki said nonchalantly, flicking a crumb off his sleeve. “Yelled at me for my ‘unprincely conduct.’ Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” Teki echoed softly. She wondered what Osvald would do if one of her teachers told him she had been acting out in class. The thought terrified her.

Loki had gone very quiet. Gently, he reached out to touch her wrist. “I—I meant to ask,” he cleared his throat. “Everything’s all right, right? I mean, with your family. Everything’s all right?”

Teki burned. ���Yes, yes, of course,” she said quickly, her voice jumping an octave higher. “Everything’s fine. Nothing wrong at all.”

“That’s good.” His gaze had grown far more concerned, but there was relief mixed in with the green of his eyes. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. I just—I wanted to make sure—”

She nodded furiously. “I understand.”

Loki looked as if he was going to say something else, but Thor was rushing up the steps of the platform, shouting his name.

“Loki!” He grabbed at his brother’s shoulders, still seemingly oblivious to Teki’s presence. “Come! Volstagg and I are trying an experiment, we need your help—”

The younger prince squirmed out of Thor’s grasp. “Now?”

“Yes, now!” He tried pulling Loki to his feet. “We need an illusionist!”

“I—” he was able to shoot one apologetic glance to Teki before Thor had completely pulled him out of his seat. “Let go of me already! I’m coming.”

Teki studied her fingernails in her lap as the two princes clattered back down the steps. She suddenly felt very lonely.

…

“Can you read that one to me now?”

Brant cocked his head, brow furrowed at the line of writing. He and Teki were on her bedroom floor, pages spread around them covered in Teki’s careful lettering. They had been there all morning—Teki patiently helping him through longer words and sentences. Maybe it was just her, but she thought her little brother was making some definite improvement.

“Tah—Tah—”

Teki shook her head. “Remember what we said about the t and the h?” she asked, pointing at the paper. “What sound do they make when they’re together?”

Brant’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Thhh!” he hissed excitedly, spittle flying all over the page. Teki snickered.

“So what does it say?”

“Thhh—the. The!” he grinned. “The wi—the wis—”

The slamming of the door cut him off abruptly. Voices echoed from downstairs, ricocheting off the walls. They both tensed.

“You sit there and give me nothing and then you expect me to listen to you when you’re going on about your—”

“Oh, I don’t expect you to listen to me, Áslaug. You never fucking listen to me—”

“Stop yelling! You’re always fucking yelling!”

“You think this is yelling? I’ll show you yelling—”

Brant whimpered as the sound of something shattering against the wall rattled the air. Teki inhaled.

“Come, get your shoes on,” she whispered, slowly pulling him to his feet. If they were quiet enough, Osvald and her mother might not even realize they were home. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Teki had learned long ago to appreciate the ivy outside her bedroom window. Her mother would beat her herself if she knew how often her daughter climbed down the side of the apartment, dress fluttering above her ankles, but it was a risk worth taking. The vines were strong, and they led directly into the royal gardens—the perfect escape.

She went first, guiding Brant down behind her. He wasn’t nearly as agile as she was, but he knew where the right footholds were, and he knew better than to cry out if he slipped. They reached the ground in silence, the cacophony of battle still reverberating behind them.

It was a warm day. Teki pulled Brant through the grass and on to the garden paths. There were only a few hours until dinner—hopefully things would have calmed down by then. Her parents’ arguments usually flamed out fairly quickly. Osvald’s temper had a tendency to linger, however, and Teki knew better than to risk crossing his path while he was angry.

Maybe sitting with the royal family isn’t so bad after all.

Ahead of them, the courtyard was alive with shouts. There was a crowd gathered, chanting and cheering and jumping up and down.

“What’s going on over there?” Brant whispered.

Teki would have preferred to avoid the commotion, but she let her brother pull her towards the pack. They were watching a fight, it seemed—two figures were going at it in the middle of a hastily drawn ring, rushing at each other with giant sticks.

Oh. Teki winced. They must have been practicing for the Games. It was the only time she ever saw those kinds of weighted staffs in use. The Games were an end-of-summer tradition, where all the worthy men of the court would show off their prowess as a warrior and might as a man by jumping into an arena and defeating their opponent in a series of different duels. It wasn’t as much an exercise in strength as it was a display of brutality—usually, the loser was carried out of the arena a bloody mess. Teki spent those days with her head buried in her hands, only occasionally peeking through her fingers when it seemed safe to look.

It was a moment before she recognized Thor, shirtless as he wielded his staff, sparring with another blond she didn’t know. His partner was panting like a dog, but Thor looked as if he hadn’t broken a sweat. Blow by blow, he beat his opponent back in the ring, pushing, pummeling, dominating… until the boy fell backwards, holding his hands up in surrender.

Thor laughed, slamming his staff on the ground. “Is that truly your best effort, Fandral?” he asked as he extended a hand. “I’ve seen some of my mother’s ladies put up a better fight than that!” The crowd snickered with him.

Thor and Osvald would get along well.

She wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it sunk in like a stone in her stomach. Teki swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Come on, Brant,” she mumbled, pulling at his arm. “Let’s—”

“Hah!”

Teki shrieked at the sudden presence behind her. She flipped around just in time to smack into Prince Loki’s leather chest. He laughed as he reached out to steady her.

For a moment, all she could hear was her pulse pounding in her eardrums. “My prince,” she said shakily, forgetting to curtsey. “You scared me!”

“Many apologies my lady,” Loki grinned, looking anything but apologetic. “I suppose you were too engrossed in your betrothed’s performance to notice me approaching.”

“No, I—” she stuttered. Why did that statement make her feel guilty? “I was just taking my brother out for a stroll, my prince.” She pulled at Brant’s shoulder, who upon Loki’s appearance had taken shelter behind her legs. For some reason, it was critically important that Loki know she hadn’t come here just to watch Thor.

“Ahh.” The prince kneeled to smile at her brother. “And how do you do today, Lord Brant?”

Brant shrank further back behind her legs. “Good,” he mumbled.

Teki flushed with embarrassment, but Loki only laughed. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Behind them, Thor was challenging someone else to another sparring session.

“Don’t be a coward! What kind of warrior runs from a fight?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Would you like to walk down to the lake?” he asked. “It’s much more peaceful there. Unless you’d prefer to stay for this madness.”

A crash shook the ground beneath their feet as Thor body slammed his next victim into the dirt. Teki cringed. “The lake sounds lovely, my prince.”

It was funny how easy it was to fall into conversation with Loki. They drifted from topic to topic almost lazily as they made their way across the grounds—how nice the weather had been, how strange it was that Teki was sitting with the royal family now, how overdramatic Thor could be about his training. When they reached their destination, Loki was telling her about his family’s upcoming trip to Alfheim.

“I’m really excited,” he said animatedly. “I’ve only gone once, and I was too young to properly remember much. Father usually takes only Thor when he travels.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Teki smiled. She smoothed out her skirt as they reclined on the grassy banks. There was the slightest breeze rippling through the water, sending tiny ripples to lap against the dirt. The effect was almost hypnotic. “Alfheim’s a beautiful planet.”

“Oh,” Loki looked up eagerly. “Have you been?”

“Oh, no—I—” Teki faltered. Not supposed to talk about this. “My father lived there for a while,” she finally said. “He used to tell me about it.”

She could almost hear him reminiscing in her head. Alfheim is where music lives, he used to say. It sleeps in the trees and dances through the air like a bird. Someday I’ll show you, Teki. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she blinked them away.

“That’s fascinating.” Loki leaned in closer, continuing hesitantly. “Was he—was your father Elvish?”

“Oh no, he was Asgardian. He just traveled around a lot.” She frowned, trying to retrieve the memory. “I think he lived in Vanaheim for a little bit too.”

Loki sighed. He dug his fingers into the grass, tearing at the delicate stalks. “I wish I lived in Vanaheim. That’s where all the most talented magicians study. My mother studied there, for a time.”

“Then why can’t you go?” she asked. She didn’t understand why he looked so forlorn—she couldn’t imagine any magic teacher would turn him down, considering how effortlessly he healed her rib during the Summer Festival.

“Father won’t let me!” he groaned, chucking his handful of grass into lake. “It’s beyond frustrating—I’m more than qualified, but he won’t have it. He says my place is on Asgard and that I shouldn’t be running across the Nine Realms just to chase a hobby.” With a huff, he leaned back against the embankment.

Teki didn’t know how to respond to that. “Well, maybe he’s just waiting until you’re older,” she supplied unhelpfully.

“Maybe.” But she could tell that he wasn’t convinced.

Brant, who had been silent up to this point, tugged on her sleeve.

“He can do magic?” he whispered in her ear. She giggled, squirming from his hot breath. Under any other circumstances, she’d be embarrassed by her brother’s lack of propriety, but for some reason, it didn’t feel out of line in this instance.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she whispered back.

Brant looked up at her with wide eyes, shrinking back behind her again. Teki nudged him gently towards Loki. He glanced back at her again before gulping in a deep breath.

“Can—can you do magic?” he asked, stumbling as he avoided eye contact with the prince.

Loki smiled. “I can, as a matter of fact. Would you like to see?”

Brant nodded shyly. Loki motioned him over, cupping her brother’s tiny hands together. “I want you to hold your hands like this very carefully,” he said, very seriously. “I’m going to give you the magic, but you can’t let go. Alright?” Brant nodded again, brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at his palms. Teki scooted over so she could have a better view of what was happening.

“Now, close your eyes and count to three,” he continued. Brant closed his eyes. “One, two, three!”

Teki gasped. Suddenly, her brother was holding what could only be described as liquid light. It gleamed in his palms, illuminating his face in a yellow glow and glistening in the reflection of his cornflower eyes. His face broke into a wide grin.

“Magic!” he breathed in awe.

Loki chuckled at their astonishment. “Blow on it,” he told Brant. “Go ahead.” Brant blew softly into his hands. The light rippled like water, lapping against his fingertips. He giggled.

“It tickles, Teki!” he whispered.

Teki was mesmerized. “What is that?”

“It’s just a light source. They use it a lot with younger students, because it’s not as difficult to control as fire.” Loki circled his hand once around Brant’s, a quick flick of the wrist. Slowly, the light drained into nothingness. “It was one of the first tricks my mother taught me.”

Brant was turning his hands over and over, as if he was surprised to find them unchanged. “Can you grant wishes?” he asked excitedly.

Both Loki and Teki snorted. “You mean like a Midgardian genie?” he laughed. “I suppose it depends. What wish would you like granted?”

“I wish I had wings!” he cried, leaning forward with a wide grin. “Can you give me wings?” Loki glanced at Teki quizzically. She frowned. Where was this coming from?

“What do you need wings for?” the prince asked.

“Because then I could fly, and sit really high up in the trees, and when I want to go somewhere I could just fly, and then when everything’s bad I can take Teki and fly away so we can live in the clouds until everything gets better again.” He inhaled. “So can you give me wings?”

Teki swallowed. She could feel Loki’s eyes on her, feel the pity in his gaze, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet it. “That wouldn’t work, Brant,” she said thickly. “Clouds are just mist. You can’t live on a cloud. You’d fall right through.”

“Oh.” Brant deflated, sitting back on his knees.

“I’ll look for a spell to give you wings, Brant,” Loki promised, voice soft. “And maybe I’ll find a cloud you can live on, too. There’s all sorts of strange things in the universe.”

Teki stood up. She couldn’t bear this anymore. “We should be getting back,” she said. “We need—we need to get ready for dinner.” Hopefully they’re not still throwing things. Brant stood up obediently, taking her hand.

Loki scrambled to his feet as well. “I can walk you back, if you like?”

“Oh, no—that’s—” Her heart ached at the way his face fell, but her blood ran cold at the idea of Osvald catching her running around with the wrong prince. “Thank you, my prince, but I don’t think that would be necessary.”

“Of course, of course.” Loki bowed slightly, his hands awkwardly fumbling with his sleeves. “Then… I’ll see you at dinner, I suppose?”

Teki forced a smile. “See you at dinner, my prince.”

They walked away, Brant still clutching her palm. Her brother had the right idea, she realized. She too wished they would grow wings and fly away to the clouds.

[incorrect-hunterx-quotes]

Update and story time:

I thought I would pass along an update to you guys. My sickness did not start off great. It started on Monday morning and very rapidly progressed by Tuesday afternoon. I was unable to eat or drink anything for 3 days because my throat was incredibly swollen. I couldnt even swallow my own spit so I would wake up every 5 minutes gagging, so I eventually stopped sleeping.

I went to Urgent Care and they gave me the diagnosis of incredibly Enlarged Tonsils and they gave me antibiotics and steroids to take to treat it. (This was on Tuesday night). The next morning I woke up and I couldn't talk. That is how swollen my throat became. I was no longer able to take my pills because they were too big. I was able to breathe, but it was hard. After a brief consult with a doctor he said to take the steroids immediately and go from there. (The steroids were the size of a literal crumb and it was still a struggle). He also said if it didn't help to go to the ER to get an IV bag because it had already been 2 days without food or water. I spent the rest of Wednesday literally hoping the steroids would kick in and help...they did not.

That night at around 2am I decided I wouldn't sleep because I was scared of gagging every 20 seconds. I spent the next 4hrs just curled in a ball against my desk on the floor spitting in a trashcan and listening to music to keep calm. (I'm am a 25yo male, over 6'3 and decently built, not scared of anything beyond Spiders and Heights, and I was a nervous wreck)

The next morning (Thursday) I heard my mother wake up and I went to her and begged her to take me to the ER. They took me immediately and quickly got me hydrated with an IV bag. Immediately I felt the effect and it was like I just woke up. I had energy, And I actually had color returning to me. I had lost 7/8 lbs at this point because I couldnt eat or drink.

They kept me in the ER the rest of the day and they gave me a 2nd IV bag and different steroids and antibiotics injected directly into my IV line. Within an hour I could speak. It wasnt that my throat was magically opened, but the one word I was able to say on Wednesday had magically became full sentences on Thursday, even if it was really low volume compared to my usual speaking voice.

They took the Big C-test (negative) and a CAT Scan later on, and that's where things got scary (-er). The CAT scan revealed that just beyond the enlarged tonsils was a 4-inch abscess, which would possibly mean surgery to deal with.

While surgery was unclear, I would need to be transferred to a different hospital 20 minutes away where they were better equipped to deal with my situation. I finally arrived at like 3am (Froday morning) and get all checked in. I get the routine blood draw and vitals stuff and then get told to relax while the specialist finished with his other patients. About 4:30am this guy comes in and was like "we're gonna take care of this right now." And I'm like "....what?"

So he was explaining that he could drain part of the abscess and then let antibiotics and steroids do the rest of it. It sounded like a good plan. I was already in better hands and I was on my way back to normal strength. So we agreed.... and that's when I quickly learned to hate this guy.

I warned him I have an incredibly strong gag reflex, and he said it wouldn't be an issue. He'd put lidocaine (a numbing agent) on my throat and tongue and itd be fine (it wasnt).

So now here I am at almost 5am, after being awake for almost 25 hours at this point, lying on my back with a bright light on my face, 2 nurses and the doctor on all sides and not enough nerves in the world to stop from shaking like a chihuahua on a massage chair in an earthquake. And not just little nervous shaking. They were powerful shakes.

It took one touch and my gag reflex was active. I was gagging the entire time. I threw up. I was screaming and crying. I accidentally bit the main doctor guy because he tried to keep my teeth open for the needle (I refused to apologize). I had such powerful shakes that my mother needed to hold my legs. She hasn't seen me this scared in 20 years when I used to have nightmares every night. And that was only after ONE OF THE TWO drains that needed to be done. I wanted to cry more and vomit and die. I couldnt do that again. But he insisted. I asked if there was a different way. There was no way I could be conscious for this again. I already knew I'd have nightmares from that (and I did last night). But he said there wasnt. So the 2 nurses and my mother braced me as I lay on the bench crying, shaking and gagging, with blood spit and pus coming out of my mouth, while this doctor finished the other draining. It was agonizing. I haven't been this scared in over 15 years. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies. It is like I was in one of those horror movies where a doctor just tortures patients. I wanted to cry and cry.

They soon told me I would be admitted to stay the night and that they would keep me on steroids and antibiotics overnight while they waited for things to improve. I felt asleep after being awake for 28 hours that night. The only thing on my mind was when I would have to drain the rest of the abscess.

When the doctor came in the morning to discuss what was up with the rest of the treatment he basically said "why didnt he put you on morphine or something?" ...I was speechless. So when I brought it up to the next one she said the same thing. As did the next 3... I could've avoided that trauma instead of having to do it like that.

So I ended up not needed to get the remaining abscess drained. The antibiotics and steroids they have had hooked me up to all day has been taking care of it. WITHOUT THE NEED FOR TRAUMA2.0!!! By noon I was drinking water on my own, I was even speaking louder. By 6pm i ate my first solid food since Monday nights dinner (Friday). By 8 I was on the phone with my friends talking like nothing had changed.

So I've been recovering steadily and rapidly. I should be able to leave and go home by tomorrow night. And then I'll be back at 100% shortly after.

I just wanted to thank you guys for all your messages and words of support that I've been getting these last few days, and to take a few minutes to explain what I've been dealing with these last few days. I want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for everything you've said. Truly, you guys and gals in this community mean the world to me.

Once I'm home I'll take a little time to get settled and we'll keep going as if this little "unplanned vacation' never happened. Take care and much love to everyone!!!

[hazelcmist]

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!” 

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented. 

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks. 

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

* 

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs. 

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.  

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.” 

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.” 

*

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down. 

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather. 

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse. 

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything. 

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[junietc]

car rides with you - peter parker

peter parker x reader

pairing: peter parker/spiderman x reader

word count: 6567

warning: swearing, some asshole who doesn’t know how to respect women, and fluffffff

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for way too long so i decided to finish it before i forgot it ever existed. its really long but i hope you’ll enjoy a one shot with our favourite little peter benjamin parker :)

send in requests and share your love ~

If you were being honest, it wasn’t like you needed Peter to drive you to and from school each day. You had options. You could take the bus or ask your dad to pick you up or even walk. But having a personal chauffeur didn’t hurt, and if he was so nice as to offer it, then how could you say no? 

Plus, it was on his way. Sort of. It was only a detour of about a block; maybe less a detour and more an alternate route? Either way, his apartment complex was hardly two minutes away. Five minutes to walk, three with your bike, six if you hobble over with a tweaked ankle. 

This was a route you’ve been intimately familiar with since you became best friends in the seventh grade. Back when your hair was barely past your ears after a platinum blonde mishap (you still immediately dyed it green after lobbing off half of it) and Peter was wearing the same hideous Star Wars sweater every day. Somehow, both of you believed these fashion choices would help improve your social status.

Both of you were delusional. 

Luckily, by ages sixteen (you) and seventeen (Peter, by default), you’d come to your senses. Sure, Peter’s penchant for sweaters persisted – why would any one person need five of what was basically the same sweater? – but you grew your hair back out and kept its inoffensive natural colour. And neither of you wore shirts with puns on them. Not anymore.

Earlier this year, back when you were still sophomores, Peter passed his driver’s test. Now with a full license and his aunt’s old sedan, he’s taken the habit of waking up the whole neighbourhood with his obnoxious honking.

Okay, maybe not the entire neighbourhood. Really, just you. 

Still, today was no different.

“Hey, Peter,” you yelled out as you swung the door open, “How about shutting the fuck up?”

You shoved your feet into your shoes and scrambled out, backpack dangling off the crook of your elbow and burnt toast between your teeth as you try to shut the door. Peter leaned across to push open the passenger door so that you could throw your things into the backseat. Papers flew out of the half-zipped bag and spilled onto the floor. 

“For the expletives, I’m afraid I’ll have to only give you a three-star passenger rating,” Peter quipped.

You frowned deeply, pulling the seatbelt. The mechanism got stuck, and you had to pull it out a few more times again. Peter just grinned at you, clearly taking joy in your glares.

“So, ready for the chem test?” he asked, shifting the gears. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that you had sent him a distressed voice message at four in the morning of you crying, saying how you were going to fail, but decided to respond as nicely as possible. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. He pulled up to the intersection, slowing down but not stopping at the sign. 

You mock gasped. “Wow, illegal. Imagine if there were cops. I’m going to have to give you two stars. I can’t have my Uber driver potentially getting arrested.”

He sighed, shoving you with his free hand. You almost scolded him for not keeping both hands on the wheel (one star!), but he began talking before you could. “You should know, that if I ever was sent to jail, it would never be for something as lame as not stopping at a stop sign”

You snorted before rolling your eyes. “Oh? What would it be for then? Pirating video games?”

“Exactly.” He winked exaggeratedly; you shoved his face to focus back on the road. You looked down at the charred toast, which had been sprinkling crumbs all over your lap. It was far from appetizing, but your stomach growled, and you decided to scarf it down – it was that or no breakfast at all.

Peter laughed at the wince you tried to stomach what was basically a brick of carbon. (Honestly, he laughed at your expense a lot. Some friend.) “I really don’t know why you haven’t just started waking up earlier. I mean, I pick you up at the same time every day and-”

“Okay dad. I’ll start waking up earlier,” you lied.

“I hope you know that I know, you’re lying.”

You flipped him off. 

-----

Lunch seemed to be the only time that you and MJ ever got to hang out at school, so you took pride in making the most of your conversations. 

The two of you shared a laugh and through your peripheral vision, you saw Ned and Peter waving at you before coming to sit down. “So, what are we talking about?” Ned asked as you turned to face them with a smile. 

“Where MJ is going to hide my body after she kills me,” you notice her crack a smile as Ned and Peter both give you strange looks. “I was thinking maybe throw me in a river, but she thinks that burying me twenty feet underground would make it harder for the cops to find.”

The two boys looked at you apprehensively as MJ chuckled as you grinned cheerfully. “Should I be concerned?” Peter asked before you all laughed. 

“Anyways. I was thinking of finally taking my driver’s test. I decided might as well get it over with no?” MJ and Ned both nodded at your suggestion, MJ even mumbling something among the lines of “finally”. Peter on the hand looked, well, skeptical. 

“You want to take it now? Out of the blue? Why? I thought you wanted to wait until you had a job,” he questioned.

After taking another sip of the juice box you managed to steal from Ned, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I might as well get it over with. I mean, it’s been well over six months since my written test and I’ve been practicing enough with you and my dad, so I should be fine.”

Peter nodded, though a slight frown still prominent on his face. The conversation steered over to a completely different topic when Ned brought up the chemistry test causing you to pretend to bawl and everyone to laugh.

After lunch had ended, you said your goodbyes to Ned and MJ as you and Peter stopped at your locker. You were in the midst of grabbing your book when he sighed heavily, causing you to stare at him. “You know if you really wanted me to stop driving you, you could have just said so,” his voice was offended as you scoffed.

“What? Where would you get that idea from idiot?”

Huffing slightly, he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe when you said you wanted to finally get your license.” 

“Are you serious? I’ve been meaning to get my license for the past few months you dummy. Plus, I can’t count on you to drive me everywhere. You’re busy with your own life, you know with that Stark internship and everything. Not to mention, you’re still going to have to drive me to school, since I don’t even have a car,” you roll your eyes at the boy. 

A light smile started to tug on his lips. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to get rid of me,” he joked as you snorted in response.

“Oh trust me, I’ve been trying since the day I met you,” Peter pouts as you flicked him in the forehead. “Stop with that face. You know I suck up to how cute each time,” his cheeks tinged a pinkish hue as you ruffled his hair and laughed. 

“O-Oh. Yeah, haha. Sorry,” he murmured as you started to walk in the opposite direction. He caught up with you before heading over to English – which truly was your worst subject – and sitting next to each other. 

Peter fiddled with his pencil for the most of class while you aggressively took notes, wishing that Mr. Petersons would slow down and breathe.

“Alright class. That’s it for today but if everyone could just pick their partners for the project and try and get started over the weekend, that would be great,” as he dismissed everyone, you and Peter turned to each other, giving a silent acknowledgement that you were each other’s partner. 

Heading out of the classroom, you and Peter both went your separate ways. “See you after school!” you waved before heading to History.

History was blur of numbers, years and dead people that you were going to have to remember for an upcoming test, so you were thankful that the clock had finally read 3:00. Your teacher finally dismissed you, causin you to rush to the parking lot, seeing Peter already sitting in the front seat. “Hey there Parker,” you knocked on the window as he smiled and unlocked the door. 

“Hey, how was history?” rolling your eyes, you told him about the dumb test you were going to have to study for. He laughed as he buckled his seatbelt, “well at least you have the weekend to study for it. Speaking of which. When do you want to meet to work on the English project?”

Sighing slightly at the reminder that you had other things you also had to work on, you bit your lip. “Are you cool with Saturday? I’ll just walk over, maybe at like three or four,” Peter nodded as he started the car. 

“Sounds good to me.”

------

Swinging around Queens was always a nice break for Peter, seeing all of the buildings and feeling almost weightless was a nice distraction from all of his studies and duties but he always seemed to forget the time when he was doing so. 

Cue Peter – well Spiderman I guess – hurriedly swinging back to his apartment when he received a text from you saying you were at his door. “Shit, shit, shit!” he swore, finally reaching his window and climbing in. 

As he changed to some regular clothing, May’s voice echoed throughout the little apartment, talking to you as footsteps approached. “He’s been in his room for quite a while. I’m not sure what he’s been up to,” Peter was frantically trying to search for a shirt in his mess of a room when the footsteps got closer. “I have some muffins I baked earlier on the counter, feel free to have one if you get hungry. I’ll be off for a bit so just call if you –” May’s voice seems to be getting closer when she suddenly opened the door, revealing you staring at him, neck immediately snapping to turn the other direction. Peter tried covering himself with a pillow as May immediately said she had to go and left you both alone, very uncomfortable. 

You stood there, unsure of what to do and more so, where to look. Though obviously you looked away and allowed Peter to have his privacy finding a shirt, you couldn’t help but think of his shirtless figure. Since when did he start working out? ‘When did he get those abs? Is this the same Peter that literally dropped me during a drama performance last year?’ you thought to yourself, cheeks tinging pink as Peter finally put on a shirt.

“Hey, um – sorry about that. I was just –”

“Nope! It’s alright. We can just forget this ever happened,” you rushed to say, shaking your head.

Peter blushed before nodding. “Right. Let’s just erase the last two minutes from our brain.” 

You swung your legs as you sat on his bed. “You weren’t doing anything weird right? Because I know that guys - “

“That’s not what I was doing! I was just changing,” he shook his head as you laughed. “Asides from that. Do you want to start working on the project?” You nodded as the two of you got to work. 

– a few hours later –

  You were both hard at work, basically finished the first two parts of the project, leaving only the last section left when you flopped onto Peter’s bed dramatically. “I’m so exhausted,” you whined, as Peter chuckled. 

“We only have one more part to do and we’re practically done the project, so do you want to finish it now?” Peter asked, still typing in his laptop. 

You pursed your lips, pondering on the idea of that but shook your head ultimately. “Nah. I’m tired. Plus, we’ve been working our asses off the past three hours. I just need to breathe.” 

Peter laughed at your dramatics before he asking question. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

Obviously agreeing to a break in any form, you nodded eagerly and headed over to the living room. You managed to steal a blanket from his bed and bundled yourself up as Peter turned on the television. “So, what are we watching?” he asked, flipped through the collection of old DVD’s. 

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he pleaded as you rolled your eyes, this was probably the third time this month he wanted to watch Star Wars, but you agreed to it anyways. 

“Fine, just don’t be annoying about it again.” 

------

The weekend seemed to breeze by with you desperately trying to study for the history test, and with only a few mental breakdowns and a couple thousand replays of your favourite song, you were ready.

Obviously, you severely underestimated how cruel Ms. Gail could have possibly been and left the classroom wanting to punch yourself, or her, in the face.

Luckily you didn’t have to endure another class seeing as the day was over and you could get home to your bed to cry in private. But before that of course, you were forced to see Peter’s face.

A light smile was etched on his face as you settled in the car. “So how was the –”

“Don’t bring it up. I am already debating whether or not I should throw myself off a building,” you groaned, leaning your head back on the seat. Peter laughed before trying to reassure you that it really couldn’t have been that bad, but you responded with, “no it really was. I honestly think I only got one or two answers right.”

Trying to raise your spirits, an idea popped in his head. “Do you want to get sandwiches at Mr. Delmar’s? Maybe that’ll lighten up your mood,” he suggested as a bright grin formed on your face. As devastated as you were, you were sure that a full stomach would make everything better. “Alright let’s go.”

Obviously, parking was a nightmare in central Queens, so, you decided it would be easier to walk there instead. The two of you headed to the small corner shop, making light conversation. After opening the door to the store, the two greeted Mr. Delmar, Peter snatching a packet of gummies worms and you going directly to pet Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat. 

“Hey Murph! How’s my cutie doing?” he purred in response before you walked over to the cash with Peter. “Hey Mr. Delmar! Business running smoothly?”

He smiled at you before answering. “Of course. I’ve got my two most frequent costumers keeping me in business,” you and Peter laughed before ordering your sandwiches, paying and heading off. 

You walked back to the school and got back in Peter’s car, eating your sandwiches in the school parking lot. The two of you conversed, making up dumb scenarios and silly topics for a while. Peter nearly choked of laughter as you tried to defend Tik-Tok.

“Not all of Tik-Tok is thirst traps okay! Maybe yeah there’s a weird subsection of it, but it really depends on the algorithm! Most of the users are sane – ish,” you argued as Peter shook his head. 

“I really don’t get it. And somehow you stay up until morning watching them! Didn’t you do that when Vine was still around?” he took a pause, a dramatic gasp escaping from his lips. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying are you?”

You placed on a hand on your chest in slight offence. “No! What? Listen, I’m not saying that Tik-Tok is better than Vine, don’t get me wrong but –”

“But what? Tell me?” he raised a brow at you, suspicious as to which team your truly were on. 

You shook your head laughing before punching him on the side of his arm. “You’re such a piss off Parker. Hey, should we get going? It’s getting late,” Peter looked at the time on his phone before nodding, taking a final bite of his sandwich before starting the car. 

“Oh, shoot you’re right,” you smugly flipped your hair, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Aren’t I always?”

----

“You said yes?” Peter demanded, trying to keep up with you as you walked to your locker. 

Sighing as you rummage through your locker you answer, “Yeah I said yes. Noah is a good guy and quite frankly, I don’t see why it would even matter to you?” 

“You said that you would think about it!”

Turning to face him as you shut your locker closed, you rolled your eyes. “That was nearly a week ago and I’ve thought about it since then. Besides, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. It’s just one date.”

“You see that’s where it starts!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s just a first date but then it’s a second and a third and soon he’s your boyfriend and he’s the one driving you to school and everywhere and then, where am I?”

You shook your head laughing slightly at the brunette. “Would you calm down Peter? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself for the first part. And yeah, maybe it’ll be more than one date but trust me you can keep driving me to school. Also we’ve been best friends since middle school, I wouldn’t just ditch you when I got boyfriend,” he seemed to calm down, nodding slowly at the words you were saying but he knew it was more than just being allowed to drive you to school. “I’ll see you around okay?” you smiled before heading off to meet up with Noah, who was standing with a group of his friends. 

Peter’s smile faded away shortly as he watched Noah wrap his arm around your shoulder. He was too busy thinking of different scenarios to notice Ned had come up beside him or the fact that you had slapped Noah’s arm away. “Hey Peter. What are you looking – oh. Sorry man,” Ned tried to console Peter, but the words seemed to pass his mind. Sighing, Ned tried to pat his shoulder. “I mean, it is kind of your fault.” 

“Excuse me?” the words seemed to catch his attention as he turned around to face his best friend. 

Ned shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hey not trying to be rude but maybe if you hadn’t chickened out into asking her out, you could’ve been the one dating her,” Peter stared at his friend, slightly hurt but also aware that everything he was saying was right. 

“Yeah, maybe if I had.” 

He couldn’t help but look at you wistfully, his heart almost aching at the idea of you going out with anyone else but him but at this point, what could he really do?

Waving bye to Ned, Peter headed off into his car and drove home since you were already going with Noah on your date. Once he got into his apartment, he saw May and smiled.  “Hey Pete, how was your day?” tucking his hands in his sweater pocket he sighed slightly. 

“It was okay, I guess. Erm – I’m gonna work on my assignment in the library. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, heading off to his room to grab a few things. 

May shouted from in the kitchen, “alright! I’ll be heading off to grab a few things. Just be back before dinner!” he grabbed his suit and tried to get some fresh air to distract himself.

----

A month had passed, and you and Noah were happily dating, much to the dismay of Peter, who constantly tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart every time you two would display physical affection, but it was whatever. 

You got in his car and buckled your seat belt without a word to Peter. You were tired of schoolwork as you always were, so you weren’t as talkative as you usually were. Slumping into the chair and sighing heavily Peter stared at you.

“Everything okay?”

You looked at him surprised, nodding. “Of course! I’m just really exhausted. Got a lot of work, that’s all.” You sighed, looking at the text on your phone. “Hey, we should get going. May’s probably wondering where you are, and I have a date with Noah so I can’t be late.” 

The moment that Noah’s name was mentioned, Peter mentally rolled his eyes but nodded and started to drive again. 

He dropped you off at your place before texting his aunt May that he would be heading over to the library to work. He drove over and got to the library, trying to find a place to sit.

After finding a seat, he pulled out his laptop and worked for a while, maybe a few hours or so before heading back home. May still wasn’t back and Peter really needed some air, so he put on the suit before leaving through his window and swinging around. It was a nice distraction as he watched the sun slowly start to set, dealing with a few petty crimes around the neighbourhood. He was about to call it a day when he heard a shout coming from someone. 

“Hey! Get off me!” the voice sounded awfully familiar and as soon as he realized who it was, Peter’s stomach dropped. “I said get off!” you were shouting from about a block away, trying to keep a man away from you. 

“Oh, come on, you look all nice and dolled up. Why won’t you just –” the man started before you started to attack him with your bag. Sure, you weren’t scared of him, but you were really hoping he would catch a clue and leave you alone for the rest of the night. You were tired and your feet hurt, and the sun was setting so you really didn’t want to be walking alone back to your place in the dark. You’d forgotten your phone like a dumbass in your room, so there really weren’t that many options. “You bitch! I can understand why you’re walking all alone! I wouldn’t want to be near such a whore either!” the words sank into your skin as you made a disgusted face at the man. 

“Listen if you could please just leave me alone it would be –” as you placed your hands up trying to be defensive, the man grabbed onto your wrists and started to pull on you. “Stop! What are you –?”

“She said stop.”

Your head whipped around, and you saw Spiderman hanging from a web. You watched the man smirk and laugh for a minute, his hands still holding onto your wrists. “And what are you gonna do? From what I’ve heard about you Spiderman is that you’re just a kid. Don’t think that I’d fear a –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Spiderman had knocked him cold with a single blow to the face. He turned to you and tried to make sure you were alright. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting him to get knocked out. Are you alright miss?” you nodded, trying to massage your wrists, damn that guy had a firm grip. You glared at his lying figure, still holding onto your wrists. Spiderman’s eyes, or well, you couldn’t really see his eyes through his mask but whatever, moved to your wrists. “Are you sure? Here, let me see.” 

He took your wrists gently, examining the potential bruises and making sure you were okay. You smiled before taking back your wrists. “I’m alright, honestly. Thank you for your help, even though I didn’t really need it,” you stated, causing him to scoff.

“Um what? From what I saw, he was holding you and you couldn’t move,” he crossed his arms making you snort.

“That’s because I was trying to reason with him before kicking him in the balls,” you mentioned, causing Spiderman to choke in response. “Kind of stupid that guy. I mean my legs weren’t restrained. But whatever. Thank you though. I do actually appreciate it,” you smiled and was about to walk off before he kept talking. 

“Why are you walking alone? I mean it’s getting late, no? Why not call someone to drive you home?” he asked making you stop and turn around. 

You placed your hand on your hip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to get some fresh air so I just decided to walk. But I’m starting to think I should just take the bus for the rest of the way back.”

“I could swing you back?” Spiderman’s offer was a surprising one, considering how this was your first time encountering the hero. Though it was a bit skeptical, you agreed to it, wanting to go home. “Just hold on tight alright?” he asked as you nodded, latching yourself to him, arms wrapped around his neck. You heard his breath hitch slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist but ignored it as he shot a web up and started to swing. 

You screamed loudly, the adrenaline of being so high up and swing fast soon kicking in. “Do you even know where we’re going?” you shouted, the wind smacking you in the face. You rolled your eyes before giving your address to him and soon landing safely at your windowsill. Thankfully, your widow was still unlocked so you lifted it up and slid in. Before he left you tapped his shoulder. “Thanks Spiderman.” 

“Not a problem. Just being your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” 

He left soon, leaving you in your room, bored. You walked over to your desk and saw your phone there, a bunch of texts from MJ asking you how your date went so you went and responded. After binging a bit on Netflix, you decided to get ready for bed, knowing Peter was going to come honking at the door the next morning. 

----

“Wow, you’re early for once,” Peter joked as you sat in his car. You rolled your eyes at him, before turning on the radio. “How was your, umm, date yesterday?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to why he had suddenly taken interest into your date with Noah. “It was the same as usual I guess,” you shrug. “Why?” 

“You walked home last night?” he huffed, causing you to readjust your position. You awkwardly nodded, because you knew he was going to go into his “you shouldn’t be walking home alone late at night” speech. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, as he stopped at the red light. “How did you know –”

He kept his eyes on the road before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you pursed your lips, shrugging once more. “I went to bed pretty early for once. I just forgot about it, I guess. Sorry,” you tried to apologize yet Peter’s face stayed stern. 

“Why didn’t Noah drop you off?”

You were shocked at his tone but answered him, trying to keep your own temper. “He said he had to go somewhere once we were done the movie. He apologized for your information. He’s got more in his life then just me.”

“No one goes on a date with someone and just leaves because they were ‘busy’,” he argued. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. 

“Would you cut it out? It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” you snapped, crossing your arms and turning to look outside of the window. 

Peter turned to you and glared. “Not that big of a deal? I heard some guy tried to attack you,” he retorted, causing you to turn back and face him, confused as to how he knew. 

“Who told you?” 

“That doesn’t matter!” his tone was harsher, making you wince at the volume. He took a breath and regained his composure. “I just can’t believe Noah let you go home alone. Why didn’t you take the bus?” 

You were getting tired of his protective behavior, sighing. “Oh my god Peter. I’m not a helpless child, I can walk home on my own! For your information I didn’t have my bus pass. Besides it was hardly dark!” your attempts to reason with him fell on deaf ears. 

“There were so many other things you could have done though!”

“Like what?” 

“You could have called me!” 

“You were busy! You have a life that’s not taking care of me twenty-four seven! I don’t want to have to rely on you for every fucking moment of my life!” you retaliated, breathing heavily. “Besides, I didn’t even have my phone.”

“You could have –”

“Could have what Parker?” you were sick of him treating you as if you were incapable of doing anything. “I get that you’re just trying to look after me, but I can handle things on my own!” 

“Can you? Because it seems like the one time you are on your own you get yourself in situations like yesterdays!” 

“You think that it was my fault? You think that some guy trying to assault me is my fault? Are you fucking serious right now? You know what, I’ll just get Noah to drive me home tonight seeing as you clearly don’t trust me walk home on my own, because I don’t want you to drive me anymore. Don’t wait for me after school,” and with those words, the car had come to a stop and you slammed his car door, leaving Peter to slap himself across the forehead at his stupid mistake. Groaning to himself, he placed his head on the steering wheel. 

“What the fuck did I just do?”

------

It had been two weeks since you and Peter’s argument and neither of you had spoken to each other since. There had been awkward moments where you two would cross paths, like if you were hanging out with MJ and Ned, but you made it seems as if it were your sworn duty to ignore the boy. You sat with Noah and his friends at lunch and either walked home or had your dad pick you up. 

That was all until one fateful night.

It was maybe eleven, possibly even midnight, and Peter had just gotten back from patrol. It was boring that night. Nothing happened, maybe a guy flashing people down the street but asides from that, the city was calm.

He had climbed back into his room and sat down on his bed, laying up at the ceiling. He hadn’t done much the past few weeks since he didn’t have you to bother him with, so his life was boring. He laid there for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed.

He was quick to get up and grab his phone, wow addicted much, and his eyes squinted when reading the name, making sure they weren’t deceiving him.

you: hey

you: do you think you could come over?

Peter: ofc! On my way right now

you: thanks :)

The ride to your house was short and before he knew it, you were sitting beside him, awkwardly staring forewords. “Can we drive? Anywhere is fine,” you mumbled under your breath, latching on your seatbelt.

Peter nodded and started to drive off. He glanced to look at you a couple times, watching as you anxiously played with the sleeves of your sweater. Maybe ten minutes had passed, and you motioned for Peter to park the car on the side of a quiet street.

“Me and Noah broke up.”

Peter looked at her surprised. “Oh. Do you want to talk about – “

“Do you still have those movies you downloaded on your phone?” you asked quickly, avoiding his previous question. He nodded as you smiled. “Can we watch one of them in the back? I really just don’t want to think about anything.”

Peter smiled at the girl. “Anything for you.”

So, the two of you sat in the backseats of Peter’s old sedan, wrapped up in an old blanket and watching trashy romcoms together.

And it was perfect.

-----

The two of you had finally made amends after the incident and nearly a month had passed until the two of you were working on a project in Peter’s apartment.

While Peter was vigour sly typing up the document, you laid on his bed, playing with various Knick knacks he had scattered around his room.

“Peter?” He hummed his response before you continued. “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about me?” 

“Sorry?” He paused his writing, confused at why you had suddenly decided to go into such a deep question.

You sat up for a second, repeating the same question. “What do you think of when you think of me?” you collapsed back down onto your back and laid your head on your arms. “Go on. Answer it?” 

He took a second to think about it before answering: “Annoying.”

“You think I’m annoying?” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at his childish answer. 

“Undoubtedly. Every day I wonder how far I can shoot you into space,” he joked as you threw one of his pillows at his head. He caught it with ease, turning on his chair to face you. “Why are you asking? Did someone say something?” he asked defensively. 

You shook your head, playing with some strands of hair, braiding them carelessly. “No. I was just kind of sitting in my room earlier today and stumbled over a Tik Tok where a girl asked people what they thought of when they thought of her, so I just wondered about it. I asked MJ and she said that I reminded her of comfort and that one time we plotted to kill Ms. Gail,” Peter looked at you with a cocked brow as you shrugged. “I mean, at least her answer wasn’t as rude as yours.”

“Oh, come on. It was just a joke,” he tried to reason with you as you laughed. He left his desk and sat at the bottom of his bed beside you, taking a second to think about it. “I guess the first thing I think about, when I think about you, is cars.”

“Like the Pixar movie?”

Smacking you with the pillow he was holding, he rolled his eyes, “and you wonder why I said annoying?” 

“You love me,” you stated, as Peter sighed.

“No, but like cars. More so car rides,” he stopped himself, thinking of all the memories you have made in the car rides you had been on. “Like, I guess car rides with you are what I think of. Like how I pick you up and drop you every day. And all the stupid conversations we have, or watching you trying to put yourself together in the mornings when I pick you up. I think about the arguments we have gotten into, the tears that we shed, the terrible jokes you made, the movies we watched in the back of the car on your phone late at night,” a smile tugged at his lips as he thought: ‘It’s where I fell in love with you.’ He leaned his head back on the mattress of the bed. “I guess it’s just, our special thing.” 

You smiled to yourself at his answer, as you laid on your back staring at the ceiling. “That was a solid answer Parker,” you teased him. You slid down the bed, so that half of you was lying upside down and turned to face him. 

“Yeah well my real answer is just annoying,” he laughed before turning to face you. You both hadn’t realized how close you were to each other’s faces. Your nose was almost touching his as you stared into his soft brown eyes.

Neither of you moved. 

Just the sound of silence and your heartbeat going haywire.

“Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I think of you?” you asked smiling. “I think of how many times you’ve been there for me, showing up at midnight with your old sedan and your hair a mess. I think of how you always seem to be there no matter how pissed off I am at you or the world. I think of your cute face and how you always manage to make me smile. I think of how much I really love you Peter Parker. How your dorky face manages to be my entire world.”

Peter’s mind seemed to unravel as the words left your mouth. “You, love me?”

A light scoff seemed to escape your lips before you responded. “I do. Have been since sophomore year, but if you don’t feel the same, don’t feel obligated to answer. I know it’s really-“

His lips sealed over yours before another word could have been spoken. His hair tickled your eyes as you two got closer together, his hand placed on the back of your neck. The two of you parted, your eyes staring longingly into his. The two of you shared a pair of love sick smiles. 

“I guess that means you love me too?”

“You have no idea.”

[justaghostingon]

Steel Hooks in a Trusting Heart

In which Cyrus finds himself once again aiding Hugo in his schemes, this time to the purpose of helping Hugo win over his boyfriend’s family. There’s just one problem. Cyrus isn’t so certain he approves of this Varian guy Hugo’s dating.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996633

Or below the cut

Cyrus had not known what to expect when Hugo had roped him into a security job at the eternal library. For the most part, it had been an improvement. Sure, the job was pretty boring, not many people had been exactly eager to go into the formerly cursed library after its last human patron had been trapped inside. But it was getting better, thanks in large part to its two alchemists and Corona’s very friendly Queen. Seriously, that woman didn’t act like a noble at all. Cyrus half believed the rumors that she was some kind of sun goddess that had fallen from the sky. She was kind enough for it, and the sun never cared much for rich or poor. He did wish she’d stop jumping out of nowhere to say hello though, it was a bit unsettling.

And speaking of jump scares, Cyrus had grown to discover that this library was in fact inhabited by some sort of fae. She was a beautiful creature, if incredibly shy, always hiding when Cyrus moved to close, but Cyrus would catch her watching him out of the corner of his eye. He and Mona weren’t sure what kind of fae she was, but Mona had helped him recreate a few of the offerings from his grandpa’s stories, just in case.

Today’s offering was a plate of honey cookies and milk, but it was facing a serious challenge in the face of one of the most unexpected parts of his new job: Hugo.

“It’s just so frustrating!” Hugo sighed as he swiped a cookie from the plate of fresh honey cookies and sank into a chair. Cyrus scowled across at him.

It's not that Cyrus wasn’t expecting to see Hugo in his new job. But the library was vast, full of ancient scrolls to study and reluctant patrons to convince that this place wasn’t going to kill them. Cyrus, with his position at the entrance hall, had expected to see the alchemist maybe a handful of times as he welcomed the patrons for tours, and that would be it. For the most part, he was correct.

So no one was more surprised than Cyrus when Hugo had come down the first day, thrown himself dramatically in one of the chairs at the entrance hall, and started ranting about some annoying thing someone called Flynn Rider had done. At first he’d thought it was a one time thing, but no, Hugo continued to seek out his company every few days or so, to rant about all the people he was inevitably forced to work with in this new city.

It was nice, Cyrus supposed, to have someone from his own country here to talk to. If Hugo could behave. Cyrus pulled the plate of cookies away from Hugo as he went for another one. “Those aren’t for you,” he grunted.

Hugo rolled his eyes  “Are you still going on about that magic library fairy or whatever?” He licked the crumbs off his fingers as he continued. “She’s not real Cyrus, grow up and give the cookies to me.”

Cyrus grunted, pulling the honey cookies closer to himself. Behind Hugo, Cyrus could see a silver head peak over the edge of the bookshelf. “Still not yours,” he grumbled. “If you want cookies, come by the house and ask Mona.”

“Fine, be that way,” Hugo pouted, and behind him Cyrus saw the silver haired fae stick her tongue at Hugo’s back. “Just add to my burden, why don’t you?” Hugo sighed dramatically.

He wants me to ask doesn’t he? Cyrus thought as he held back a sigh of his own. “What happened this time?” he said.

“Oh it's terrible!” Hugo perked up, placing his feet back on the ground as he leaned forward to whisper theatrically at Cyrus. “Varian’s dad invited me on a fishing trip!”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see the problem,” he said.

“Uh, Varian's Dad, remember?” Hugo crossed his arms. “Hates me? Thinks I’m not good enough for his son? I told you about him last week!” Hugo adds with a note of hurt in his voice.

Cyrus traded a look with the silver haired fae. She shrugged, and Cyrus figured she’d not be any help with this human affair. He pressed his fists together. “He invited you out fishing though, isn’t that a sign of progress? He’s giving you a chance.” Which was a pretty impressive turn around, considering the first impressions Hugo usually made.

“No, no, no!” Hugo shook his head, and Cyrus realized he must have missed something. “This is obviously a trap! He invited me fishing, so he can get me alone and make me look like a fool in front of Varian!”

If looking like a fool is enough to get Varian to stop dating you, you really shouldn’t be dating him, Cyrus didn’t say. Hugo seemed to sense it anyways, and he stretched out on the table, face burying in his arms.

“I just, really want him to think well of me,” he murmured, “especially after I messed up so badly.”

“You traitor!” Hugo flinched as Varian stalked towards him, teeth bared like a wild animal and eyes blazing with blue fire.

Cyrus’s gut twists at the memory, an old dread seeping over him. He didn’t think that was what Hugo meant exactly, but still. “I’ll go with you,” he stated. If Hugo had even the slightest fear of the dark side of his boyfriend appearing, then there was no way Cyrus was letting him go alone.

“Really?” Hugo beamed, all traces of earlier melancholy gone. “Excellent! I’ll meet you and Mona by the city gates at 9 am!” He bounced away, passing directly under the silver haired fan’s bookshelf. She ducked out of sight, but she needn’t have bothered. Hugo was too caught up in his own little world to notice.

Cyrus sat still at the table for a little while longer, dark thoughts swirling as he contemplated the trip and the dangerous opponents they'd have to face. The silver haired fae appeared beside the bookshelf, a frown on her face.

“He’s manipulating you,” her voice was flat as she crossed her arms.

“Not really,” Cyrus suppressed a smile, something about her posture reminded him of a jealous child tattling on a sibling. “But he probably thinks he is.” He held out one of the honey cookies. “Cookie?”

The silver fae hesitated for a second, before vanishing back behind the bookshelf. But that was fine, Cyrus shrugged as he pushed the cookies and milk into the middle of the table and pretended very hard to ignore it. Trust took time. She’d spoken today, and he would enjoy that victory for now.

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

“Do you think we’ll need more food?” Mona asked anxiously, hauling a truly enormous picnic basket into the air.

Cyrus grunted as he picked it up from where she was struggling. Mona gave a visible sigh of relief as the weight was lifted. Cyrus raised an eyebrow at her, and she blushed.

“Ok, ok, so it might be a bit much,” she gave Cyrus a sheepish smile as she straightened her good handkerchief on her head once more. “But you know how much you men eat!”

Cyrus shrugged, conceding the point. Men did eat a lot, especially growing boys. Speaking of which...

“There you two are!” Hugo appeared between them, seemingly materializing out of thin air. Both Mona and Cyrus jumped. And Cyrus allowed a slight scowl to cross his lips. Hugo had gotten sneakier and Cyrus did not appreciate it.

Hugo ignored Cyrus’s obvious annoyance in favor of slapping him heartily on the back, a wide, performative grin on his face. “Quirin! Varcakes! I invited my Aunt and Uncle along, since this is supposed to be a family outing. I hope you don’t mind!”

Cyrus followed his line of sight to see Varian walking with the man Cyrus presumed was Quirin. Cyrus straightened, rolling his shoulders back as he sized up this new opponent. Quirin was a large man, with tough, sun weathered skin that spoke to years of hard labor, like the farmer Hugo had described should have. But Cyrus wasn’t fooled. He saw the way the man held himself, back straight and feet planted firm, the way his eyes moved, both sizing up Mona and Cyrus and flickering to everything else that passed in the market. This was a warrior, and no amount of years in the farm and field could change that.

If it came to a fight, this man would be a difficult opponent, Cyrus reluctantly admitted. He could even give Cyrus a run for his money. But he was hardly the most dangerous one here. His eyes turned to Varian, and narrowed.

Varian winced, and Quirin frowned, rolling his shoulders and moving like he was going to step forward, but Mona got there first.

“How nice to meet you!” She flashed her most winning smile, the one she reserved for new neighbors and particularly grumpy children. Quirin’s attention snapped to her, clearly started, and Cyrus surpassed a grin. No one could stand up to her charms. She was Team Hugo’s secret weapon.

Quirin recovered quickly, and gave a slight bow. “A pleasure to meet you my lady,” he said, and Mona gave a nervous giggle from behind a hand, unsure of how to react to a term like “lady.” Cyrus privately wondered what Quirin’s problem with Hugo was, they should be able to bond over their shared love of theatrics.

“Dad!” Varian gave a squeak. He shot Cyrus and Hugo an apologetic smile as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. Cyrus drew his brows together and Varian turned away. “It’s nice to see you again Mona,” he offered.

“Oh darling I told you to call me Auntie!” Mona waved her hand, having recovered from Quirin’s theatrical attack to counterattack by reminding him of her acquaintanceship with Varian. Quirin turned his attention to Mona, but it was too late. Mona went in for the killing blow, “It’s been so long since you came over for dinner!”

Ha! Cyrus wanted to laugh, that was his wife! Winning the battle before it had even had a chance to begin. Now Quirin knew his son was close to Hugo’s family, and would have to be on good behavior so as not to embarrass Varian. Pride welled in his stomach as he fought back a smile. Mona had such a way with words.

But not everyone was as gifted as his wife. “Well, now we’re all acquainted,” Hugo said, linking his arm with Varian’s and Cyrus could see Quirin’s temper rise as all of Mona’s hard work began to lose its hold. “Let’s get going, we’ve fish to catch!” He pulled Varian up ahead, leaving the three adults to hurry after them.

“After you!” Mona smiled at Quirin, attempting to soften Hugo’s rudeness.

“Oh no, after you, my lady,” Quirin waved a hand like a butler welcoming a noble to her palace. Mona shot Cyrus a wink as she slipped her arm in his, and led him down the path.

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

The walk itself was mainly uneventful. Mona did her best to keep Quirin distracted, asking about the farm, the weather, whatever normal topics she could think of to get him talking and keep his attention off of Hugo. Cyrus tried to help, but he wasn’t nearly as good at small talk as his wife. His topics of conversation that seemed “normal” usually amounted to talking work, and given his primary work was with Hugo, he had to scramble to try and find something else. Eventually he landed on grunting in agreement with whatever Mona said.

Hugo was not helping at all, practically strolling along with his arm linked with Varian’s and occasionally stopping to point out some plant or animal and remark its proper latin name, which he thought made him look cool. But to Cyrus, who knew Hugo hadn’t known anything about wildlife until he’d spent the first three days reading through books on the subject to learn the context of Varian’s ‘simple peasant life,’ it just looked over done. Like he was trying too hard.

Cyrus knew Hugo was in love with Varian, a man doesn’t turn on a steady wage and a roof over his head for anything less than true love, romantic or otherwise. But he privately wished Hugo would relax a bit more, instead of trying to impress all the time.

Case and point, A leaf fell in Varian’s hair, and Hugo gave a gasp, pointing out how something with a big fancy sounding name was stuck in Varian’s hair. Varian freaked out, raising both hands to brush it off, only to see a leaf tumble down. Hugo gave a laugh and Varian’s eyes narrowed. Cyrus’s blood ran cold.

“I trusted you!” Varian snarls, spit flying into Hugo’s face. But Hugo is ashen and shaking, and doesn’t respond.

Varian reached a hand up, and Cyrus tensed, ready to run to Hugo’s aid. This time he would not freeze. But Varian gave Hugo a light shove. Hugo dipped away, laughing, while Varian glanced back at the three adults behind them. Their eyes met and Varian flinched, ducking close to Hugo to whisper in his ear.

“What?” Hugo said loudly, eyebrows rising in comical surprise. “No no! Of course Cyrus likes you.” He waved a hand back at Cyrus. “That’s just his face. He always looks like that.”

Mona and Quirin both sent Cyrus sharp looks, but Cyrus ignored them in favor of Hugo’s expectant face. He couldn’t let him down now. “I have a very scary face,” he admitted through gritted teeth, and Hugo beamed.

“There you go then,” he pulled Varian closer and gave a stage whisper into his ear. “It’s actually a problem, he’s lucky we took him in, or it would have been forced to work at the circus.”

“I’m pretty sure the circus would have been more exciting,” Varian rolled his eyes, and Quirin’s attention turned back to his son, seemingly appeased.

But Mona’s gaze lingered, biting her lip as she followed Cyrus’s gaze to Varian. She glanced up at Cyrus with a look that clearly says, “we’re going to talk about this,” and Cyrus felt the upcoming dread that only married couples know.

Sure enough, when they reached the lake, Mona gave a theatrical gasp and threw a hand over her mouth. “Oh no!”

Cyrus snapped to attention, senses overstimulating as he searched for the threat. He glanced quickly around to see what had set her off, but there was nothing dangerous in the immediate vicinity with the exception of Varian, and he was clearly as confused as Cyrus.

“I forgot desert!” Mona cried, and Cyrus felt himself marginally relax. Okay, nothing to fight. Unless she wanted him to hunt down a fairy and wish for desert. He shot the trees a glance, wondering if there were any a fairy might like to hide in. He wished he’d brought the honey cookies for bait. Then again, if they had honey cookies, they wouldn’t need a fairy.

“Don’t worry about it,” Quirin smiled. “We’ll be fine without it.”

“No! No!” Mona shook her head. “I saw some blackberries back there, I’ll just go and pick some while you boys get the boats out.” She extended a hand to Cyrus with a smile that made Cyrus break out in a cold sweat. “Cyrus dear?”

She used “dear” he was definitely in trouble.

“I could help too,” Varian offered, and in that minute Cyrus would almost have appreciated the rescue even if it came from him, but Mona waved Varian away. “We’ll be fine. Besides,” she shot Varian a wink. “You know how to set up a boat, and don’t you want to show Hugo how its done?” Varian and Hugo’s cheeks both flamed red, and Cyrus would have found it amusing if he didn’t know his doom was upon him.

Mona linked their arms and dragged him back towards the path and out of ear shot. She stopped in front of a blackberry bush and began to pick them. For one, glorious moment Cyrus thought they really were just here to get the desert, when Mona said, “You don’t approve of Varian.” It was not a question.

“It’s not my place,” Cyrus shifted uncomfortably. Because it really wasn’t. He wasn’t like Quirin. Hugo wasn’t his son. He could listen to his complaints sure, but he could hardly comment, or risk losing whatever fragile bond they had developed.

Mona snorted. “So you’re just going to glare at Varian all day?” she said, clearly seeing the issue and not at all agreeing with Cyrus’s method of disapproval.

Cyrus turned his head away, pulling a few more berries from the bush as he stayed stubbornly silent, not wanting to admit that yes, glaring was very childish.

Mona let out a sigh. “Could you tell me why you don’t approve?” Her voice was tired as she placed the blackberries she’d pulled free in an open jar.

Cyrus bit his lip. Why didn’t he approve? He hadn’t always, he’d helped Hugo leave to go with Varian and his friends after all. He’d seen how much these people meant to Hugo, and that they had been willing to fight Cyrus for him, and that had been enough. But then Donella had dragged him to the library, and it all went south.

“The library.” Cyrus struggled to put it into words. “When Donella revealed Hugo used to work for her, Varian got angry.” Angry didn’t even begin to describe it. The others had been angry, but Varian? He’d been so much worse.  “Really angry,” he added.

“I take it Hugo forgot to mention that detail earlier?” Mona asked dryly.

Cyrus shrugged. Because he knew that their anger was justified. It was Hugo after all. He was terrible at expressing his emotions, and although Cyrus knew how much it had taken him to leave, he was also absolutely certain Hugo did not explain this to Varian or the others. But then again...

“It's not just the anger, it was something more. The look in his eyes..” Cyrus shook his head, unable to put it into words.

Cyrus took half a step towards Hugo’s trembling form, but a single look from Varian froze him in his tracks. It wasn’t a look of heartbreak or a caged animal like he’d expected. No. It was a look that Cyrus had only seen a few times, in men so unhinged even the guild refused to lend them thugs. The look of a man who would burn the whole world to the ground to kill a single man.

In the second their eyes were locked, Cyrus felt all the air in the room sucked out as the agonizing aura of fear overpowered him. Then Varian turned his head and stomped into the library, ending the moment.

Cyrus gasped with relief as the portal shut behind Varian’s retreating back. Donella was swearing, but Cyrus only felt gratitude to whatever being out there watched over thugs. He knew if Varian had chosen to attack all three of them would have died, alchemic genius and brute strength be damned.  

Mona placed a gentle hand on Cyrus’s cheek, grounding him back to reality. Her face creased with concern as she asked, “Did he do anything to you or Hugo?”

Cyrus shook his head. “He just left.” Mona breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” she said. “So he scared you, and that’s no easy feat. But Cyrus,” she bit her lip, “he didn’t actually do anything. Right?” Cyrus grimaced, but Mona stopped him with a look. “No Cyrus, that’s important. When it comes down to it. He didn’t hurt Hugo, and he didn’t hurt you.”

She was right, Cyrus begrudgingly admitted to himself. But somehow the thought didn’t make him feel any better.

Mona sighed, leaning forward until her weight shifted half onto Cyrus in a slight hug. “He reminded me a bit of myself you know,” she mumbled into Cyrus’s shoulder.

“Impossible,” Cyrus said, Mona was nowhere near as terrifying as Varian had been. Except for when he walked muddy boots onto her nice clean floors one to many times, or when she saw those bruises on the neighbor kid, or... He shook his head to stop that train of thought.

“He was so eager to please,” Mona continued, “and afraid to be a burden. He helped me in the kitchen, when even Hugo didn’t think to.” And Cyrus remembered she’d mentioned that before.

Mona tilted her head up to look him in the eye. “You’ve only seen him at his worst Cyrus, but today? It's an opportunity! We can both watch how he interacts with Hugo, and see how he behaves day to day. And besides,” she gave him a wry grin, “if all he did at his worst was lock himself away, I’d say Hugo’s in pretty good hands.”

Cyrus’s shoulders sagged as he realized he’d been beaten once again. “Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”

“Thank you darling!” Mona stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the nose. Cyrus blushed, and pulled her close.

“What is taking you so long?!” Hugo shouted down the path and they hastily broke apart.

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

Two seconds on the boat led Cyrus to realize two things that were very important. The first was that he knew absolutely nothing about fishing. He gazed over the strange rods with wires and hooks and vaguely horrid smell of canned sardines with complete confusion.

“Here,” Quirin pushed a fishing rod into Cyrus’ hands. “Can you string your own line?”

Cyrus’ hand automatically closed over the rod, and Quirin took this to mean he knew what he was doing and turned to offer a rod to Mona and Hugo. Cyrus blinked blankly down at the pole in his hands, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He glanced at Hugo and Mona, but they seemed equally lost.

Quirin completed handing out the rods and turned his attention to his own, hands moving in quick, easy motions as he wove the line through the hoops. Cyrus couldn’t catch all the details, but it seemed simple enough. He turned his attention to his own rod.

Carefully, he put the string through the first little ring. There. He stopped to admire his work. That wasn’t so hard. The string promptly slipped out of the little ring, and Cyrus realized this was going to take a while.

He threaded the little ring again, then the next and the next. He glanced at Quirin’s but found it still didn’t look right. Perhaps he was supposed to loop it? Yeah, so it could catch fish. He was pretty sure that was right. He tried looping the next ring, but it only succeeded in making it harder for the string to move. He tried to undo it, but found it had knotted. Oh no. He gave the string a sharp tug, but that only seemed to make a larger knot.

“Do you need a hand?” Varian offered and Cyrus nearly jumped out of his skin as he found the boy leaning over him, blue eyes wide. He looked the picture of innocence, but Cyrus could barely suppress the shutter that seemed to fill him as Varian blocked out the warmth of the sun. Beside him Mona leaned close, either as a comfort or a warning to behave.

“Yeah Cyrus, do you need a hand?” Hugo gave a mocking call, highlighting the second thing Cyrus had realized: that Hugo set him up to fail. Hugo didn’t know anything about fishing, so he’d invited Cyrus and Mona along to make even bigger fools of themselves and in turn make Hugo look like less of an idiot in front of Varian and his father. It was actually quite clever. Cyrus just wished he’d been up front about it so Cyrus would have had a better game plan.

“I’ll be fine,” Cyrus grunted, and Varian’s face fell. Cyrus braced for the worst, but nothing happened except for the biggest puppy dog eyes Cyrus had ever seen on a grown man. Mona frowned at him, and Cyrus held back a sigh. He had promised he would try.

“Why don’t you help Hugo instead,” he said as a sort of peace offering, pointing to Hugo’s own unstrung rod. Hugo scowled at him, clearly not happy at Cyrus for redirecting everyone’s attention to his own failings. Cyrus raised an eyebrow in response as Varian hurried to Hugo’s side. Hugo was getting the attention he clearly craved, so who was he to complain? And besides, it served him right for not being upfront about the whole thing.

Quirin’s eyebrows knit together as he watched Varian calmly instruct Hugo in how to thread the fishing rod. No doubt he was wondering if Hugo was really as clueless as his uncle, or just pretending to have Varian’s full attention.

Cyrus used the time to quietly cut his line out of its knots and castaway the smaller bits. He glanced back up to see if anyone had noticed, to find Mona watching him with an amused grin.

Cyrus blushed and turned his attention hurriedly to Varian and Hugo. Varian really was being very patient with him. He was snarking Hugo sure, but Cyrus could see his hands moving gently against Hugo’s as he directed him to the proper movements. Hugo’s lips quirked up, and Cyrus knew he was enjoying himself.

Mona gave Cyrus a slight nudge to say, see what I mean? And Cyrus hunched his shoulders. Because yes, he could see what she meant. A point to Varian. But one point wasn’t enough to stand against the thousand points he’d lost at the Library.

“Would you like some help Auntie?” Varian offered as he finished up with Hugo, a warm smile on his lips.

“I would love some help,” Mona smiled, and nudged Cyrus again to signal he should ask. Cyrus very deliberately did not ask, and she shot him a pout over Varian’s shoulder before turning her attention fully to the rod beneath her fingertips.

Varian began to speak, explaining in simple words what each of the rings were and the loopy thing, and how the rod was supposed to be strung like it was a needle. Mona listened attentively, and carefully moved to do as he asked.

Varian seemed to be speaking a bit louder than he was technically needed to, but Cyrus didn’t say anything. Instead he carefully moved his hands to follow the instructions without bringing any attention to it at all.

That’s two more points, he begrudgingly admitted to himself as he held up the finished rod. Three if he counted the way Varian had tried to shield his ego.

Maybe there was hope for him after all.

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

Fishing, it turned out, involved a lot of sitting around in the boat, waiting for a fish to catch on their lines. Which also led to a lot of room for conversation. Cyrus was beginning to see why Hugo had wanted him and Mona here, and not just to make him look like less of a fool. He’d also wanted two human shields to help prevent the one-sided interrogation that Quirin kept trying to start.

Mona and Cyrus did their best, but Quirin had the determination of a man who wants to stop his son from doing something very stupid. He kept pushing, and there was only so much about Hugo’s personal life they could believably answer.

“So Hugo,” Quirin smiled as he began his 45th question, “how are you adjusting to working at the eternal library?” As far as his questions went, this one was actually quite simple, clearly meant to ease the annoyed looks that Varian was shooting him. But the simple mention of the library in such a tense situation made the hairs on Cyrus’ neck stand on edge.

“Lovely,” Hugo waved a hand. “I have more knowledge than I could ever dream and the perfect partner to discover it all with.” He shot Varian a dopey smile, and the other boy blushed.

“Cyrus works there too!” Mona happily reminded them all, no doubt hoping to redirect the growing frown on Quirin’s face as Hugo leaned closer into Varian’s personal space. Help! her expression said.

Quirin turned to look at Cyrus with interest. “You do?” Cyrus gave a sharp nod. “Tell me,” Quirin leaned forward on his hands, and too late Cyrus realized this must be what he was going for from the beginning. “How is the library doing? It would be nice to hear about how the front is managing itself, and not just the research my son tells me of.”

Cyrus wondered if perhaps Quirin didn’t fully approve of Varian’s new job just as much as he didn’t approve of Hugo. Or if he’d just heard the rumors about the place and was worried. Either way, Cyrus felt he owed the man an answer.

“Business is slow,” he said bluntly, and Varian winced. “But it's steady, and growing every day.” Quirin didn’t look fully convinced, so Cyrus decided to elaborate. “No one’s been cursed yet,” he offered. “And our little fae has mostly stopped stealing back the books now she’s seen they get returned.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hugo glare. Why would you mention your imaginary friend? His expression said.

Quirin however, looked intrigued. “A fae you say?” he said, rubbing his chin. “Those are rare nowadays.” Cyrus saw Hugo’s mouth fall open in shock. “Tell me,” Quirin continued. “Have you tried giving her offerings?”

“Quite a few,” Cyrus’ lips quirked up, feeling a slight spark of smug pleasure in another acknowledging the silver-haired fae’s existence. “Just yesterday I offered Mona’s special honey cookies and milk.”

“Did it work?” Quirin asked. Cyrus shook his head. “Hmmm,” Quirin mused. “Honey and milk usually does it. It worked on the lake sprites that were giving the village some trouble a few years back.”

“Lake sprites did what now?” Varian gaped, but both men ignored him.

“Perhaps our library fae is just more stubborn than the lake sprites,” Cyrus shrugged, and instantly regretted it. What had Grandpa always said? Never insult a fae while in their domain?

He glanced around, but nothing seemed to change. Cyrus had just enough time to breathe a sigh of relief when Mona’s line gave a sharp tug. She startled, having been more engaged in the conversation than the rod, and pulled with all her might. But whatever was on the other side pulled with the strength no normal fish could have, and sent Mona flying over the side of the boat.

Cyrus reached out for her foot as it flew by his head, but his fist closed over empty air. No. Cyrus grabbed the edge of the boat, and with one mighty leap, hurled himself across the lake to where his wife had disappeared beneath the water.

It was not until after his head had fully submerged that the panic of “Mona can’t swim!” Became “I can’t swim!” He struggled in the water. waving his arms and legs about in a desperate hope that it might keep him afloat. The water flooded his open mouth, stealing his air away. He kicked harder, struggling against the current of water pulling him down.

Something hard collided with his back, tugging him forcefully to the surface. His head broke the water and he gasped, gulping down as much air as he could. Whatever it held him in place, strangely buoyant. He craned his neck around, to see something bright and pink was stuck to his back and arms.

“You absolute imbecile,” a very familiar voice said. Cyrus looked up to see Hugo standing above him, balanced on the buoyant pink that kept them both afloat.

“Hugo!” Cyrus cried. “Mona! Save Mona!” But Hugo ignored him, instead using a rope to pull them closer to the line. Strong arms pulled him upwards into the boat, and without the mobility of his arms, there really wasn’t much he could do.

“Mona!” he cried again, only to hear an answering,

“Cyrus!” he turned, a difficult feat with the strange pink substance still stuck to his back, to see Mona, soaking wet and covered in the same pink substance but breathing and alive. “Oh Cyrus!” Mona sobbed, and threw herself towards him. Cyrus tried to catch her, but found he still could not move his arms. Instead they lay against each other, drinking in each other’s presence.

“Now everyone is saved,” Hugo patted Cyrus’ shoulder and gave a tight smile. “What the hell were you thinking?” His hand closed into a fist.

Cyrus blinked. “Mona can’t swim.” He pointed out.

“Neither can you, you absolute idiot!” Hugo was shaking with fury. If Cyrus didn’t know better, he’d say he was afraid. “You never use your head! If you’d thought for even one moment, you’d have known there were better people to go after her!”

“You jumped in too,” Cyrus pointed out, feeling this whole tirade was somewhat hypocritical. “You can’t swim either.”

“Actually I can,” Hugo sniffed. “Varian taught me.” Cyrus looked over at Varian, who was standing awkwardly to the side, water dripping from his hair to his goggles. Teaching Hugo a life saving skill? That was worth at least fifty points. Varian ducked his head.

“He swam me to the boat!” Mona added, voice muffled as she spoke against Cyrus’ chest. And okay, saving Mona from near drowning was another fifty points. Still far from the thousand points he’d lost, but an impressive enough improvement to drive home how he really should take Mona’s advice.

“Gonna get us out of here?” He grunted at Varian, who’s head snapped up.

“I don’t know,” Hugo crossed his arms. “I think we should just leave you in there, so you don’t go jumping back in the lake.” Quirin frowned, and Hugo added hastily, “But Mona we can get out.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Varian rolled his eyes. “Here,” he said to Cyrus with a shy smile. “Let me help.” He uncorked a small vial, and poured the strange green liquid over Cyrus’s shoulders. Cyrus could feel the pink substance crackle and break as he drew his arms forward to cradle Mona, who was still stuck. Varian leaned over her, and Cyrus watched the pink slowly crumble off her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Mona gave a slight smile, and Cyrus felt her pull closer against him, body shivering.

“I think that’s enough fishing for today,” Quirin said, and Cyrus and Mona were quick to nod along. It was time to go back home.

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

“Can I talk to you son?” Quirin said casually as he and Hugo pulled in the boat. “Man to man?”

Cyrus stiffened. A sneak attack when everyone was beginning to relax. How hadn’t he seen this coming? He looked at Hugo, trying to convey the message, do you need me to follow in case of ambush?

Hugo’s shoulders slumped as he let out a long sigh. “Sure Quirin,” he said. He shot Cyrus a look that clearly said, come get me if I scream. Then he took a deep breath and followed Quirin, looking for all the world like a man going to his own execution.

As they moved around the bend and out of view, Cyrus realized he and Mona had been left alone with Varian. Great. Now what?

Varian shifted, tugging at his sleeve. “So I guess this is the time when you tell me not to break Hugo’s heart?” he asked, voice an octave higher.

Mona and Cyrus looked at each other. Cyrus sighed. “It’s not my place to tell Hugo what he can or can’t do. I’m not his father.” He said, getting really tired of people expecting him to have some kind of authority over Hugo. Mona raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. Really he didn’t. The last person to tell Hugo not to do something was Donella, and look how well that worked out. Mona looked down, seeming to understand.

“Oh,” Varian looked down, and Mona bit her lip.

“You know he’s not actually related to us right?” she offered. “That day he brought you over, I’d never seen him in person before.”

“I’m just a guy who worked for Donella,” Cyrus added, because Varian needed to understand that Hugo didn’t have anyone else, he’d given up his closest connection for Varian.

“Yeah, but,-” Varian’s brow wrinkled, “-you still helped him. And when my Dad suggested a family fishing trip, he insisted you guys come. You guys might not be related, but you’re important to him. And,-” His eyes met Cyrus’ blazing with a determined fire, “-I want Hugo’s family to approve of me.”

Cyrus starred back, feeling frozen one again under that familiar glare. For the first time, he wondered if maybe Varian was as intimidated of Cyrus as he was of him. The thought was almost laughable, he’d read up on Varian, he knew what he was really capable of. There was no way he’d be able to beat him if the boy decided to go all out. But then again, there were other ways to hurt someone.

What had it been Mona had said to him when they’d been on their way to introduce her to the thug guild?

“I just really want them to like me,” she’d confided when he’d asked why she was so nervous. “I want to be with you forever, and I don’t want to make that forever miserable for you.

Cyrus sighed. “I’m still not going to threaten you,” he said, and then because Varian looked far too happy to hear that he added, “I wouldn’t want you to see it coming.”

Varian’s face fell as Mona let out a peal of laughter. “Cyrus!” she giggled. “Hugo’s an adult now! You can’t go killing off his problems anymore!”

“He what now?” Varian’s eyes widened in alarm as he looked between Cyrus and Mona.

“There was only one,” Cyrus grunted, and Varian paled.

“He deserved it,” Mona waved a hand. “Don’t worry darling, you’d have to kill a few animals in front of their owners before you even came close.”

“I-” Varian started, looking hopelessly lost. “I think I’m missing something.”

“Welcome to the family kid,” Cyrus smiled as he saw Quirin and Hugo heading back around the bend. “You’ll get used to it.”