#self aware au gives more opportunities

[stllmnstr]

champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

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The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

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PART ONE

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Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness. 

Scratch that – thirty minutes. 

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives. 

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up. 

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing. 

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it. 

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness. 

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book. 

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing. 

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second. 

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment. 

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date. 

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up. 

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her. 

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard. 

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure. 

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine. 

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it. 

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time. 

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm. 

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit. 

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course. 

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now. 

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated. 

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door. 

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance. 

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one. 

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID. 

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother. 

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you. 

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be. 

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs.  And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home. 

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about. 

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line. 

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always. 

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.” 

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily. 

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out. 

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again.  “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap. 

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly. 

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent. 

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.” 

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around. 

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully. 

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit. 

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly. 

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.” 

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is. 

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan. 

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text. 

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files. 

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage. 

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack. 

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door. 

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number. 

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine  every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently. 

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan. 

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with. 

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest. 

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful. 

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding? 

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom. 

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger. 

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way. 

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long. 

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.” 

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out. 

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine. 

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute.  And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away. 

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger. 

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips. 

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.  

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms. 

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes. 

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it. 

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–” 

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking?  “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.  

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of  a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along  as you drag him with you. I am so fucked. 

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless. 

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before. 

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down. 

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone. 

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend.  “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing. 

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous. 

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number. 

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all. 

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true. 

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library. 

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror. 

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder. 

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop. 

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him. 

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you. 

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him. 

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare. 

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving. 

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.  

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace. 

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right. 

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall. 

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks. 

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace. 

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake. 

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser. 

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment. 

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company. 

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house. 

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university. 

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system. 

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst. 

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be. 

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges. 

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob. 

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.  

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all. 

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically. 

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom. 

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too. 

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.  

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants. 

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library. 

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter. 

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence. 

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax. 

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice. 

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.” 

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute. 

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides. 

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one. 

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now. 

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes. 

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer. 

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line. 

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.  

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it. 

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom. 

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.  

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight. 

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer. 

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim. 

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be. 

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one. 

An overwhelming sense of  self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else. 

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment. 

As you get closer, their words become more audible. 

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it. 

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him. 

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire. 

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this. 

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease. 

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is. 

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good. 

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over. 

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable. 

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.” 

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it. 

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier. 

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.  

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine. 

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.  

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face. 

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant. 

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window. 

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace. 

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being. 

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.  

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself. 

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey. 

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough. 

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault. 

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.  

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production. 

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for. 

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation. 

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices. 

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you. 

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there. 

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.  

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do. 

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath. 

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely. 

James Sim. 

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him. 

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker. 

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name. 

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed. 

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments. 

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs. 

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card. 

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced. 

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him. 

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well. 

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable. 

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles. 

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother. 

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read. 

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious. 

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles. 

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.” 

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes. 

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers. 

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother. 

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter. 

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you. 

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations. 

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it. 

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions. 

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there. 

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout? 

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus. 

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance. 

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.” 

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.” 

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have. 

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being. 

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom. 

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else. 

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening. 

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut. 

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless. 

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror. 

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :) 

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CONTINUED IN PART 2

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note: thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. part two still needs some love, and I'm hoping to have it out around this same time next week. I'll announce for sure when I have a release date & time. as always, I love hearing any thoughts/comments/screaming you may have. happy reading!

[dfortrafalgar]

would you be interested in a more Platonic type fic? Like being good friends with Robin?

alternatively if it has to be romantic: Law being forced on a disaster of a date only to meet a super helpful (comic) bookshop employee and she starts seeming cute when he finds out she has similar interests? (Boy probably went into cardiac arrest at first when someone caught him not being broody)

hope this isn’t too much!

and you’re doing awesome!

thank you so much for your request, anon!!!! im actually going to use both of your ideas, but i started with the Law one because that hit seriously close to home. ive been on some absolute TRAVESTIES of dates in the past, and i needed to write law suffering through a similar fate or i'd die!!!!! I hope you enjoy, and pretty soon I'll post your platonic Robin request as well! I love writing platonic stories just as much as romantic ones <3

An Out.

Law x Fem Reader

Law made the mistake of letting his friends talk him into a first date… and now he desperately needs an out. Fast.

Warnings: an absolute disaster of a first date for our wonderful nerdy man. modern au, implied college setting, some mild slight suggestive language but nothing more than that

Trafalgar Law tried in vain to recount the series of events that led up to this very moment.

There was the dusty apartment floor discussion about how the med-student hadn’t gotten laid yet, which was followed by a raunchy comment about a girl in someone’s class, it was revealed that this girl was single (‘and ready to mingle’), and her number was forcibly input into Law’s phone.

For the week that followed, he was inundated with flirty texts from this girl he had never met in person.  He was forced to send her a picture of himself, mostly to get her to stop blowing up his texts every hour, and that was the next mistake in the line-up of unfortunate events.

Turned out she had a thing for facial hair.

Then, instead of getting pestered with general flirty messages, it was general flirty messages that were ramped up to a nine.  ‘I’d rip your clothes off if you give me the opportunity,’ kind of nine.

Law knew he was a virgin, but at least he wasn’t this desperate, nor did he have any inclination to be.  If anything, the texts he received from this stranger were making him want sex even less.

And yet… he was still pushed into this.

A date around downtown with this girl.  She clung to his arm, tried to loop her fingers into his, and yet had absolutely no interest in anything he had to say.  At all.

First red flag: she mentioned her ex.  Three times.  In four minutes.  Everything was about what he did wrong to upset her, no self-awareness to be found.  Second red flag: the clinginess.  Law hated public affection, but any attempts to urge her to give him space resulted in a childish pout and her arms caged around his, almost pulling him to the ground.  Third red flag: she couldn’t give two shits about Law, in any sense of the word.  She wouldn’t stop talking about herself.  Her looks, her clothes, her favorite music, her favorite shows to binge watch, her distaste for the area of the city they were in, her distaste for the lunch Law had [regretfully] paid for, her distaste for the speckled jeans he decided to wear…

He could feel the premature wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows the longer the date went on.  He was starting to wonder if he’d have to throw out the shirt he was wearing later.  It already reeked of the too-strong, powdery-scented perfume she bathed herself in.

“Where do you wanna go?” she suddenly asked, still tugging on his arm.

“I kinda want to stop by the bookstore before we leave,” he suggested, his feet already carrying him, and by extension, her, along the sidewalk to a small bookshop that had just recently opened.

“The bookstore?  What kinda guy brings a girl to a bookstore on a first date?!” she demanded, showing off yet another childish pout.  It wasn’t a good look on her.

‘A guy who knows this girl’s not getting a second date,’ he wished he could say.  Instead, all the snarky remarks stayed locked inside his weary brain, bouncing around like a caged lion desperate to escape.

The girl didn’t make any motions to ditch him to his nerdy reprieve, and instead followed on his heels as he pulled open the bookshop’s door, the familiar, calming scent of new books, fresh paper, and ink filling his nose.

“It smells gross in here,” the girl huffed.

Aaaand there went Law’s fleeting moment of peace.  Out the window.  Down fifteen stories and splattered on the pavement.  He needed to violently restrain the eyeroll that begged to appear.  His ocular nerves ached to be a dick in the pettiest way possible.  He inwardly hoped that by dragging this girl to the most unassuming bookshop would encourage her to leave, call a friend or get a cab to take her back to her home, but alas, she stayed glued to Law’s side like a lost dog.

She followed behind him as he blindly perused shelves of new and pre-owned books, Law’s feet subconsciously guiding him to the back of the store where he knew the comic books would be located.

If anything would turn this girl off for good, it had to be his love for all things superhero.  His comic book collection would dry her up like a dessert in a drought.  Or at least, it fucking better.

His eyes lit up as he approached the expansive comic shelf, immediately spotting the latest print of Sora: Warrior of the Sea- Volume 10.  It had finally been officially localized, and he had been saving some of his spending money for this very moment.  He eagerly grabbed the book from the shelf, thumbing through the pages.

“How old even are you?” jeered the girl by his side.  “Comic books are, like, little kid shit.”

“I’m five years old,” barked Law, refusing to look toward her as he continued to analyze the pages of his favorite series.

To the average onlooker, they both probably looked like complete jackasses towards one another.  And while Law was at least brave enough to admit that his behavior was certainly petty, he felt like he was warranted a Get Out Of Jerk Free card for all the painful hours of suffering through this atomic catastrophe of a date had put him through.

“Whatever, I’m going to find a bathroom,” the girl finally groaned, releasing his arm and trudging through the aisles of books toward the checkout counter to ask an employee where the bathrooms were located.

Law watched her go out of his peripheral vision, refusing to exhale a sigh of profound relief until she was completely out of his line of sight.  With shoulders that finally relaxed, free from the overbearing tension, he turned his focus back to the comic in his hands, continuing to thumb through the colorful pages of artwork.  He flipped the book around to examine the price, smiling at how reasonable it was.  He filled his arms with a few other comics from a series he had been meaning to pick up, and retreated toward the cash registers to buy his books.  The sooner he got his treat for this ordeal, the sooner he could get out of here, call this girl a taxi home, and spend the rest of his life as a willingly single comic book mega-nerd.

But reality wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Not when the girl sitting behind the register thumbing through another copy of Sora Volume 10 was an absolute bombshell.

When she looked up at Law, her eyes quickly went wide.  She placed the book under the register counter and eagerly leaned forward, her hands supporting her over the counter.  “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Law cocked an eyebrow, confused.  “Yeah, why?”

“That girl you’re with is making you miserable.  You walked through the door looking like you wanted someone to grant you a mercy killing,” she huffed.  Her eyes were clearly concerned.  “Are you dating her?”

Law felt his guard dropping without even realizing it the longer he was in the presence of this cashier.  “My friends set me up on a date with her, but I’m having the absolute worst time of my life.”

The new girl’s own eyebrows angled downward in concern.  “Do you want an out?”

“A what?”

“An out,” she repeated.  “An excuse to get her to leave you alone.”  Time was running out.  At any moment, she could leave the bathroom.

Law frantically looked back and forth between the cashier and the small, short hallway that led to the single restroom.  With pleading, golden eyes, he silently mumbled, “Yes, please.”

The cashier kept her eyes on the bathroom door as she began unloading Law’s hands, spreading his books out on the counter to make it look like she was busy ringing out his purchase.  Law watched with an analytical gaze as she fumbled with his items, clearly buying time until the bathroom door opened.

He didn’t have time to ask what she was plotting.

The second the door cracked open, the man’s shirt collar was violently clenched in the cashier’s hands as she pulled him over the counter, smushing her lips into his.  Law’s fingers flexed in thin air as he froze, brain completely fried as he was frozen in this sudden kiss.

His first kiss.

“What the fuck?!” the girl screeched, exiting the bathroom in a frenzy as she booked it toward the heated exchange happening over the cash register.

The new girl pulled herself away from Law’s face, but only enough where she could display her best rendition of a weary, tired war-torn wife waiting on a cliffside for her husband to return.  “Baby, please just take me back!  My life isn’t complete without you!”  Her voice was cracking as she fake-wailed, her grip on Law’s shirt never faltering, not even once.  The few customers who also occupied the store turned to stare at the commotion, frazzled and befuddled.  “Nothing in life is as good as it was with you!  I’m in shambles!  You were the best sex I’ve ever had!”

It took a few moments for Law to catch on to the ruse.  As soon as he put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, however, he was grabbing the wrists of the cashier and bringing his lips back to hers, closing his eyes and trailing his arms up to grasp her face.  Completely disregarding the fact that they were still separated by the heavy check-out counter between their torsos.

“You were dating someone?!” snapped the original girl.  “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Law pulled away from the cashier’s lips, his own skin immediately feeling fifteen degrees colder from the loss of her contact.  “I wasn’t.  Until now.”

The new girl put her arm around Law’s shoulders from across the check-out counter, her deft fingers caressing his skin through his shirt.  “I’m sorry, but I’m taking him back, I can’t stand to be without him any longer!  The sight of him with another woman…” she made a show of clenching her chest, “makes me sick!”  She was damn good at this, in a way that almost made Law concerned.  The fact that she was pulling all of this out of nowhere, and the fact that her first course of action was this drastic, made Law’s heart flutter in his chest.

“Ugh, whatever.  This place sucks ass anyway.  I’m going home.”  She finally shouldered her bag and marched out of the shop, her feet stomping across the hardwood floor until the sound of the front door slamming closed finally made the cashier release her arm from Law’s shoulders.

And once again, the man was feeling oddly cold without the contact.  He glanced at her as she started ringing up his items for real.  “You’re… a good actor,” he blurted.

The girl hid her face in her arm with shame, an awkward laugh bubbling from her throat.  “I’m so sorry, I was trying to think of what to do to help you but when the door opened I panicked.”  Her eyes were focused on her work.  “I’ve been on some absolutely awful dates myself, so I understand.  Sometimes I’ve wished I could have Prince Charming swoop me out of the movie theater where a guy made fun of me for my interests the entire run-time.”

His jaw went slack.  “Are you serious?”

“Deadass,” she replied, quick as a whip.  “Insisted on holding my hand the entire time.  I think he was convinced that I had taken him to see a horror movie because I wanted to act scared in front of him, but his hand was so clammy and sticky the whole time.  And not in the endearing ‘Aww he’s shy!’ kind of way.”

Law wished at that moment that he had more charisma.  He was sure one of his friends would be able to pull a witty, flirty quip from their asses like it was nothing, but Law’s personal dictionary of flattery was nonexistent as it was.  He balked while he listened to the cashier who just took his breath away lamenting about her own poor experiences with dating, and he was sure that her example in this moment was only one of many.  Instead of continuing the conversation, his mind blanked.  He stated, more like whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

The girl’s hands stopped scanning his books halfway through.  Her wide eyes darted up to Law’s, her jaw slack.  “It… It was?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock.  “Oh my god… oh my god, I’m so sorry!”  She dropped her head onto the counter, covering her despair with both of her arms now.  “First kisses are supposed to be special and I just took your’s away from you…”

Law shocked himself by smiling at the weary display in front of him.  “If it makes you feel any better, that was far better than the date I was on.  But I’m sure you already knew that.”

She picked her head up, a trembling hand grabbing one of his last books to scan.  Her eyes nervously darted back and forth as she silently worked, once in a while sucking her bottom lip in with her teeth before releasing the flesh.  She was clearly lost in an intense inner turmoil.

“It’s really alright,” Law muttered, now growing shy himself.  He was just now realizing the gravity of what had happened… and how truly adorable this girl was.

She tapped a few buttons on her cash register before finally making eye contact with him again.  “You are a pretty good kisser… you’re really sure you’ve never done that before?”

He affirmatively shook his head.  “Never.  I’ve never been… popular with the dating scene,” he muttered.  “Hence this awful set-up date.”

The cashier’s eyes went wide again momentarily.  “That’s kind of surprising to me… I would think someone like you would get any girl you wanted.”

Law backpedaled.  “What does that mean?”

She pulled his total up on the small screen that faced him.  She was turning away from him as if to hide her face, her entire expression teeming with a child-like embarrassment.  “Well, you’re crazy hot, for starters.  And you like Sora, clearly.”

Law felt a smirk emerge on his lips.  “Is Sora one of your only qualifiers for a decent partner?”  He began to rekindle some of the confidence he had lost throughout the day.  The longer he spent in this girl’s presence, the more he felt the tension in his body leaving.

She grinned, the stress in her shoulders from her own actions finally releasing.  “Only guys with fluffy black hair and golden eyes that read Sora, if you want my honest answer.”

Now this was flirting.  Law had to admit, he was pretty pleased with this sudden turn of events.  The atmosphere this girl radiated was immensely calming, allowing him to chip through his reinforced walls just enough to feel like a somewhat normal person.  He started to wonder if she could break through his barriers even more.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, taking out his credit card and swiping it through the machine to finally cash out his order.

The girl excitedly revealed her name.  “And your’s?”

“Trafalgar Law,” he replied.  “I go to North Blue University for med school in the next town over.”

“No shit, so do I!  I’m getting a worker's license there,” she added, her expression shifting from one of moderate happiness to one of excitement.  “I doubt we’ve had any of the same classes, but we should hang out sometime!  Get coffee, maybe talk about Sora…”  Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing soft.  “Unless you’ve been completely turned off to dating after what you’ve clearly just been through.”

Law took a few moments to ponder over her words, watching as the receipts for his purchase slowly emerged from the thermal printer.  “I think I can make an exception this time.”

The smile that broke out on the girl’s face may as well have blinded him.  She was truly dazzling, even in her ratty-looking employee apron and an oversized T-shirt accounting for her work attire.

Law placed his new assortment of books into his own bag, the girl snatching his receipts from the printer and stashing one of the copies in the drawer below the counter.  When he looked back up, she was holding out his second receipt, folded in half.  She gave him a fond smile when he took it.

“I hope you’re able to relax later today, and enjoy your books!” she called, waving to Law as he exited the store.

Once outside again, the air felt clearer now that he was alone.  The day was still young, hardly a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze coasting through the city.  He looped his bag over his shoulder and opened the receipt, peering at what was written on the backside.

Call me for Sora… and for just me ;) <3 1125-354-9854

[jymwahuwu]

I have an idea. A self-aware au. What if Jing yuan/Blade is aware of darling's affection for him since they would log in the game and just see him and just admire them that is until Genshin drops 4.1 trailer and saw Arlecchino and Neuvillette and now they're envious of these two taking away their darling's attention.

It's just an interesting idea tho. But in actuality I'd think neuvillette and him would be friends or somewhat

Hello, this anon has similar thoughts!! Put them together to answer >_< I think they will be really jealous of the genshin impact characters who are stealing your attention lol. Jing Yuan's jealousy is more harmless (seemingly), while Blade's is more aggressive (?)

This is my first time writing a self-aware AU, hope you like it!!

CW: yandere, self-aware au

Jing Yuan and Blade have their own lives.

When you're not with them, when you're not in front of the screen or looking at them with a smile or wonder. They are handling the work/tasks of the Seat of Divine Foresight/Stellaron Hunters. Blade, Silver Wolf and Kafka were practicing the new "destiny" script and took away another Stellaron. Jing Yuan is managing Luofu and attending meetings. How strange. Once you click on the space screen to enter the game, they can see your face. You organize your team and do daily tasks with them.

At first, they thought it was some kind of prank or a conspiracy, but over time they got used to it. In Elio's words, "The world is like a video game. No one can prove whether the world is real or false. Feeling the current destiny is the most important thing."

For Jing Yuan, he just got familiar with your personality. He confirmed that your presence would not put Luofu in danger, and that you acted like a cute kitten playing with a ball of yarn. You can control Luofu's General and Stellaron Hunter, and all you do is wander around Xianzhou and buy snacks to feed them, break every poor object on the way, fight to get some rewards, take the books on the table, etc.

You didn't forget to "build" them either. They watch you search for "Jing Yuan", "Blade", "build", "guide" and other keywords on the Internet, and take them to fight again and again to get materials to upgrade. Although they have actually participated in some wars and have terrible strength, what you see here is "lv 1-80".

You really like them, otherwise you wouldn’t pull, right? You even take photos of them while wandering around the map. Jing Yuan snickered when you took Blade to take a selfie in front of his wanted poster. The general is not shy about giving you a smile either. They know your admiration because you always take more than one photo.

Until… recently, they noticed that you weren't online as often. At one point, you log in again, and then, as if you thought of something important, you search "genshin impact" on Youtube (they know the name of the site) and start watching trailers and special programs.

What's this?

You stared intently at those…those people. White curly bangs, long hair like a waterfall, and his gorgeous and decent attire. The other man has short black hair. He punches enemies in live. A woman with short gray and white hair smiles confidently.

Jing Yuan opened his eyes wide, not expecting you to be so "frivolous" - did you plan to be unfaithful to him? You found Jing Yuan pouting at you in the game, but you thought you were hallucinating, so you gave him immortal's delight and puffergoat milk to comfort him. Blade clicked his tongue, crossed his arms in boredom, and stopped observing what you were doing on the other side of the screen. Silver Wolf and Kafka teased him about whether he was separated from the little player? Jealous? You're surprised to notice that his damage has been doubled. While on a mission, Blade almost lost control and killed a person on the script. His eyes as red as candlelight flashed, and he almost swung down the sword in his hand.

They are all looking for opportunities to get close to you. That part of Xianzhou's large computer installation called "loom" is running, investigating and analyzing you.

[splitster]

after seeing the drawing of pom with yonny and dingo I'm curious. What is pom's relationship with all the crew members of the rescue Corp? Friends, Enemies, Aquantinces, in love, etc?

HELL YEAH an opportunity to ramble, i'm gonna answer this in the perspective of my pom wraith au lol

Pom and Shepherd are on good terms! They connect well over being mutual dog lovers (since Pom very quickly becomes a dog lover after spending time with Oatchi). Pom works well when she's receiving clear direction on what to do, and thus appreciates Shepherd's command over the mission. Shepherd's very slightly miffed that the new recruit mastered working with Oatchi so quickly, but she's much more happy that they get along so swimmingly.

keep reading for the rest of the crew!! ↓↓

Pom and Collin are also on good terms. Pom isn't used to having someone who worries over her, so she's not always sure how to interact with him. Ultimately though, she thinks he's sweet and she's happy to help with anything he'd request of her. Collin meanwhile finds himself more worried than not over the new recruit. She's clearly very capable, but she's quite impulsive on the field and often getting into danger... Not to mention, she seems to runs on very little sleep and food.

These two have a tense relationship. Initially, Pom was very open and curious about what the doctor was doing, but eventually Yonny started to look at her differently and it scared her. She's aware of how sharp Yonny is, and she's beyond concerned he's going to discover her secret (especially given the fact he's the doctor, and any thorough medical examination of her would reveal what she is). Yonny is incredibly hard to read, so it's difficult to tell what he really thinks of the new blood.

Pom and Dingo are friends? Maybe? Pom is a little confused by him. He'll give her unwarranted advice on how to perform well on the field, but he doesn't come out to help her, despite being the self proclaimed number one. And then he claims he's the one responsible for her success. He's kind of annoying... Meanwhile, Dingo is consistently surprised by how well the rookie performs. And maybe he's a little jealous of how easily she seems to be succeeding. He wouldn't admit it, but she's impressive... and maybe just a bit cute.

Pom and Russ are on completely neutral terms. Pom doesn't completely understand everything he talks about despite her best efforts, and it doesn't help that she tends to avoid using his creations anyways. Russ meanwhile basically just views the new recruit as an opportunity to test his new inventions.

Pom and Bernard are on decent terms. Pom is always trying to analyze the people around her, and she's surprised that Bernard is kinda hard to read. He seems impossibly supportive and kind -- Enough so that she's uncertain of his intentions, so she's still reserved around him. Bernard meanwhile is just legitimately very supportive. He thinks the newbie is made of something special and is a WONDERFUL addition to their SUPERB crew.

It also goes without saying that Pom and Oatchi are besties. They become close very quickly with their work together on the field, and they trust one another. Who could ask for a better rescue dog!!

[zvezdacito]

A Different Perspective on the Levan -> Crowley theories, who to trust and a way of tying it to the themes of the story

Preface: This isn't really gonna be a super serious compilation of solid proof, symbolism or anything, more like just me yapping abt something I happened to randomly think of yesterday and thought "it would actually be kinda interesting from a writing standpoint if this is the thing they go for instead of what everyone was expecting". Kind of long but I promise it will be at least interesting AU material if anything so just bear with me lmao

Ok so basically so far the general trajectory of theories is something bad happened to Levan while he was missing that made him into Crowley who is doing some kind of evil scheming that will disregard the safety of his family and students sooner or later. Generally Levan is the good self while Crowley is the fucked up self, and it would probably be better if Levan was here instead of him

But what if it's actually more like the other way around. That Levan is the one we should be looking out for, and Crowley is the trustworthy version of him this entire time?

What if everything Levan went through made it inevitable for him to snap and be vengeful and do evil shit so Crowley is basically his sane self's last ditch effort to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone and ruin people's lives, basically using the goofy Crowley personality to suppress and forget the vengeful Levan personality

Like the "Levan's soul got fractured and split into pieces and the pieces that remember his past are sealed away" theories, but instead of usual reasons it's him who sealed them away ironically to remain as true to his original self as possible, than if it remained and he turned into someone violent and hateful against his own principles.

I feel like it would be even more of a twist since they keep emphasizing how kind and peaceful Levan is so I don't think neither Meleanor, Lilia nor the audience would expect the OG Levan described that way to actually turn out cruel and untrustworthy who the seemingly suspicious and cowardly Crowley was actually trying to manage the whole time

Also it would kind of be more straightforward as to why he would choose to forget Lilia and Malleus than if Crowley was fucked up Levan and forgot them even though his goal would be to revive Meleanor and his old life with them anyway

It's hard to tell right now but Crowley despite his goofiness doesn't really seem to harbor any malice against anyone, nor would he be the type to seriously blood sacrifice any of his students, even if he does abandon them sometimes. In this new context maybe it would even make sense if he abandons them so the subconcious Levan doesn't try to find opportunity to break out/cause trouble through blot and magic related situations?

So yeah it would be cool if it turned out Crowley was the "good" version of Levan all along, and Levan overtly and subtextually is just trying to gaslight the audience into distrusting Crowley so they can set a chain reaction of events going to unseal him so he can do whatever he wants to

Also Crowley probably knows he has to keep Levan locked away no matter what but also doesn't dare try to remember what Levan remembers because that would go against the whole point of keeping Levan locked away in the first place. His memory of his past is just puzzle pieces w/o the bigger picture. He has to be atleast partially aware that he has to not give in to the voice in the back of his mind for the sake of others

Like he knows he had to leave behind a family behind and forget them so he would not hurt them, but he doesn't exactly remember who anymore which is why he isn't really flinching or anything when around Malleus and Lilia at NRC

Though I feel like him suppressing Levan lowkey also took a toll on his mental state. So they actual conclusion would for him to basically symbolically stop suppressing his trauma in an attempt to be a perfect victim because it's not working either way and the only way for Levan to rest in peace is if he finds closure. Whatever that may be.

Maybe if Yuu and co. find out they encourage him to do this to his surprise basically saying "Don't worry headmage we'll beat the shit out of evil Levan for you if he goes out of control (you are so annoying so we've always wanted to do this)"

The reveal and Crowley needing to stop supressing Levan in his subconcious to let him process what he should have would make sense, since it would also tie in to the overarching theme around the overblots:

That even though they're ugly and hurtful manifestations of trauma they need to play out so the OBer can finally grow as a person instead of bottling it all up and being in denial

And also so they can finally come to terms with something that happened to them even if they can't change it

^ Accidentally sort of also combined this with the "Crowley's mask is hiding the fact that he's in a paused state of overblot that he just managed to sorta control" theory. Maybe overblot is what he had to stop Levan from devolving into in the first place

↑ This ties back to my HC for Levan's personality being a natural coward and not as battle-oriented but tries to be strong as he sees Meleanor and Lilia to be as well as making the most out of the skills the does have (using cowardice and sensitivity to be a master diplomat and educator instead) so he can feel like he has the right to continue to stand by their side. Maybe he didn't even care much for being considered kind until that's what Mel and Lilia saw his actions as instead of weak or foolish, that being what made him want to work on that newly defining trait of his now

Lilia at one point mentions that even tho Levan tries to perform honor student he could be as picky of an eater as Meleanor was and Lilia would have to eat his spare food too

Adding to the possibility Levan was always the type to make twice an effort to be 'kind' and strong to compensate for his nature that he sees as inherently lacking. This is also probably why he'd be super harsh on himself as Crowley

Oomf also suggested that this may add a layer to why his catchphrase ended up being "For I'm so gracious". As if to remind himself to keep up the effort to be such because he fears his natural state is one that isn't, as well as him encouraging himself to always be forgiving so Levan doesn't gain the upper hand from his subconcious

↑ Ok so I don't have the brainpower to paraphrase this too so I'll just copy paste what I talked to another oomf about here because it's also interesting

That's pretty much it, hope the general idea and effect was conveyed properly🔥🔥🔥 I don't think the exact details need to be followed since it probably has a bunch of holes itself, but the general gist of Crowley being the more positive side of Levan instead of the expected inverse all along + it making more sense as to why Levan would be motivated to forget + tying into the themes of overblotting and trauma would be interesting I think. Kind of a clever misdirection. All of this is not super substantiated though since even now we barely know anything about either Levan or Crowley, so really only time will tell. Personally kinda got attached to this direction for Crowley's character so I hope they go with something adjacent to the heart fo it at least

The other option is he's not Levan at all and we're racking our brains over this for no reason lmao

[musubi-sama]

“Classmates”

You are officially Shoko Ieri’s girlfriend, but why are you being followed and gently threatened by two tall, disgustingly handsome men?

CW: afab!reader x shoko ieri, modern au, mild stalking, the boys being intimidating, toys, cunnilingus, shower sex, lady love, mild plot

AN: This is baby’s first fan fic, my first piece of fiction and self-indulgent prose. The world needs more yuri/sapphic/lady stories and I hope I can do it a modicum of justice. I will probably write out the two flashback references as additional chapters once I figure out what I want to do with them.

WC: 4.9k

Next chapter —

“Let’s continue that little thread from last night after classes today?” she responds before pulling away and heading off to the lecture hall. “I’ll make sure to take ‘extra meticulous’ notes for you!” Your girlfriend puts extra emphasis and holds up sassy airquotes (even gives a little sideways nudge with her hip) because she’s notoriously a poor lecture student and you pay attention almost too much and too well, taking notes furiously from your front and center seat.

You give her a cute giggle and wave as she walks away; you’re heading off to meet with your adviser to discuss a research opportunity. While you walk across the quad into the neighboring dining hall to grab your usual Starbucks order (iced caramel machiatto).

Meanwhile, a pair of tall, offensively handsome men doing what would otherwise be a scene from a spy movie, fold the top half of a newspaper down and watch you and Shoko embrace and go your separate ways.

“Suguru, who the hell was that talking to Sho?” the white-haired, ethereally blue eyed man says a bit too loudly to his dark-haired, enigmatically purple eyed friend. The pair sit on the bench gawking, although the dark haired man winces at the volume of his friend.

“You’re going to give us away, shush, Satoru! I don’t know who she is or what that was about but let’s follow her” Suguru gets up and beckons in your general direction “and see where she goes” Satoru gets up and they both follow you at a safe distance, catching up with you as you are waiting for your order at Starbucks. Satoru perks up and nudges Suguru in the side with a cheeky smile when he hears the barista announce your order. “She can’t be that bad, she’s got a sweet tooth!”

“Let’s see where she goes from here.” Suguru pinches his chin as he watches you from across the cafe. You navigate around a few tables to reach the exit and head off to your meeting. While waiting for the elevator to the fifth floor, you catch a flash of messy-but-styled white hair from around the corner, but chalk it up to sleep deprivation and stress.

You make it to your adviser and he walks you through a few research opportunities, but the drawback is that you will need to take a year between finishing your primary in-classroom education and your clinical rotations. And the one that you like the most is across the country. Great timing, just after you finally get a girlfriend and think you may have your little life settled into a comfortable routine. Maybe you wait a few weeks to discuss this with Shoko. But maybe she would want you to bring it up sooner, it’s not like you haven’t known her for four years already. The responsible partner would talk about it soon. But you’ve never been too keen on bringing up tough subjects in a reasonable or quick manner, opting to mull quietly, by yourself, not wanting to bother other people or respond to negative feedback.

As you’re arguing with yourself, you take the elevator back down the ground floor and head outside to hole up in the library until Shoko is out of the morning’s lectures.

Except you don’t notice the two tall handsome boys following you from the lobby across the quad. They take notice of your internal conflicts written across your face and lack of spatial awareness to surround you and you bump into a dense, immovable statue. Fortunately for you, it’s not an actual statue, but a person, so there is a softness in the knock and a pair of arms quickly wrap around you to make sure you don’t fall. Two sets of arms, actually.

“Ah, Iamsosorry” You attempt to stammer out as you are brought out of your internal arguments. You look up to see long, feathered jet-black hair, reaching past the shoulders, but pulled partially up into a bun. Face framed by bangs hanging on one side. Piercing, focused, concerned violet eyes, and a soft smile. Your first impression is that he is cat-like. He catches you off-guard but you feel safe. As you step back to give him space and continue to your destination, your back bumps into an equally statuesque figure. But he’s the polar opposite when you tilt your head back and look up at him. A shock of white hair, dark round sunglasses, giant smile bearing all his teeth, ocean blue eyes piercing you. It’s unsettling how it feels like he’s reading every thought you’re having right now, in the past, and the future. “Oh, excuse me…” you mumble but it just trails off.

“Oh hello there.” Suguru places his hands on your shoulders to steady you. It feels nice, reassuring, considering you just knocked around some coastal rocks. “My name is Suguru Geto and this is Satoru Gojo. We just happened to see you walking across campus and you seemed distracted. Wouldn’t want you walking into anyone and causing a disturbance. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Yeah, what’s a girl like you doing so distracted?” You’re caught off guard by the brazen question. And confused by the implications. What kind of girl do they think you are?

“Sorry, I really just want to go to the library. I’m meeting my girlfriend soon.” You try to side-step the pair and they move in tandem to block your path. Ah, you start to feel the familiar anxiety of being pestered by someone who can’t understand that ‘no’ is a full and complete statement. What you fail to notice, is the shock that zipped through the boys’ expressions.

“I am sorry for the brashness of my companion” Suguru tilts his head up to give Satoru a piercing stare before his gaze softens again and he looks back at you. You feel as if you’re the only person in the entire world as he looks down. Completely taken by his gaze, feeling his arms re-settle on your forearms for a moment before dropping to his sides, giving you space with the lack of physical touch. “But we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her. She always introduces anyone beyond a mere acquaintance to us, and we are only looking out for her best interests.” Satoru uses this opportunity to step around to your front, hands in his pockets. Although he still has a mischievous grin on his face.

“Er, what? I am sure that any one I am friends with surely doesn’t require a white knight or dark stallion to protect her honor.” You attempt to cut the conversation short.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely correct, dear. How about we get to know you over dinner? Our treat for being so forward. Tomorrow, pick you up at 7:00? I know a place that does great bananas foster with homemade caramel” Satoru winks, and you realize you’re still holding your coffee. You’re clutching it now, hoping he didn’t see that you asked for extra caramel drizzle in your coffee today. You’re a people pleaser, so you just quickly agree to the plans. You ask for their LineID and as you’re walking away, you get two messages immediately:

Can’t wait to see you, sweets! Looking forward to dinner and getting to know you.

Finally making it to the library, feeling buzzed, and not from the sugar or caffeine. But you manage to find some shred of focus for the next two hours. Your phone buzzes and you start to pack up your books and laptop. You respond to Shoko’s message that she’s out of class and heading to the dining hall with a quick “Yay, save me a seat!” message even though you know you don’t have to ask.

“How was the Pharmacology lecture?” You ask, while attempting to unhinge your jaw around a particularly ambitious forkful of salad. Your girlfriend just smiles at you over her soup.

“Hm, well you know how engaging Dr. Smith is at his age. I made sure to get an audio recording of the lectures and of course the slide notes include the markups from in-class.”

“Aww, thank you! You’re the best.”

Shoko gives you a fond smile as you both settle back into eating lunch. You continue chatting about classes, you feel confident over your polite dodging of any real answer to how your adviser meeting went “Ah, well, I am waiting for him to email me with some details on a couple research opportunities.” Shoko seems satisfied, or at least doesn’t have any follow up questions to your response. You don’t feel comfortable about lying to your best friend, your girlfriend, but you didn’t really tell her lies. Just, not the whole truth. You’ll tell her, soon. You promised yourself. That was the decision you had settled on right as you bumped into-

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. I have two friends I’ve known since forever and I want to introduce you to them. I have kept you from them until now because they can be somewhat, very, incredibly, protective of me and intrusive to anyone who gets close. But they are good people, even if I have to kick their asses when they pull their little “baby Shoko” stunts.” Shoko puts her hands on yours and looks straight at you, although struggles to keep eye contact when she mentions her friends’ not-so-kind traits.

You consider her question and do not want to respond too quickly or eagerly, but you have wanted to build some new relationships before your life gets too much more hectic with clerkships, graduation, and intern year on the horizon. And if these new friends are already friends with Shoko, then it’s even easier because you would want any new friends to be comfortable with both of you. You may only be newly dating, but you’ve already fallen for Shoko quite hard and want to settle down. Or something like that? You haven’t taken a breath to really figure your brain out.

“Oh, well, why don’t we get drinks and see how things go? I like the idea of making new friends, let’s give it a try!” You try to hold back your over-eagerness, but you let slip big excited eyes and slotting your fingers into Shoko’s hands and squeezing. A small squeal may have also escaped your lips, you’re bad a poker. And Shoko loves it. She gives you a soft smile, leans over to drop a peck on your cheek. The rest of lunch passes with easy conversation. You head off to your afternoon lectures and study sessions together.

After classes finished, you both headed back to Shoko’s apartment. Even before you started dating, you spent most of your free time at her place. It was closer, bigger, quieter, and nicer than your apartment. You grab a pair of beers from the fridge after you finished cleaning up from dinner and walk over to the couch. Shoko turned on Netflix and started the nightly ritual of scrolling new and recently updated shows to see what caught either of your interests before settling on one of the six shows you’re already in the middle of watching. You sit sideways and hand over one of the beers, laying your legs across your girlfriend’s lap. She settles on watching the next episode of your shared guilty pleasure, Doctor X. During the opening credits, your phone buzzes several times with messages on Line.

“Ugh, what is it now? I should’ve left it in the bedroom” you grumble as you lean over to the table and pick up your phone that has now buzzed four times. You see a newly familiar name pop up and scowl.

“What’s wrong, love?” Shoko perks up and looks over to you as you start to read the messages, more coming in while you’re reading.

“I literally ran into a pair of criminally attractive guys. Boys, really. They did that High School-Hollywood thing of boxing me in, making me look up, and then not taking no for an answer. I agreed to get dinner with them tomorrow just so they’d leave me alone and go away.” You flash her the phone with the messages. Her usually subtle expression shifted much more dramatically when she saw who you were talking about.

“Wait. You ran into, literally? Gojo and Geto? Tall, one with white hair sticking up in stupid directions and acting with way too much bravado, the other with big ear gauges and an air of incredible self-confidence? Today? Where? When?” She stops her idle massaging of your legs and turns towards you, taking your phone to read more carefully what they had sent:

Heyyyyyy. Wear something cute? Do you like Mediterranean? :)

“Yyyyeah that matches the pair. Why, do you know them? Have they bothered you on campus before?”

Shoko snickers softly. “You could say that. Remember the pair of friends I wanted you to meet? Looks like they found you first.”

“Oh.” You look down at your hands for a moment and then suddenly you remember what Suguru said to you “we saw you with a friend of ours and we were just concerned for her…” “Oh, wait a second. You’re the friend they were talking about!” And you relay the conversation you had with Suguru and Satoru to Shoko who just shakes her head and sucks her teeth.

“Yeah, those bastards. I told them to wait till this weekend, I had news for them and someone to meet. But they just HAD to get impatient.”

“I will call off dinner! Can I have my phone back, please?” you reach out your hand to begin composing a polite response to the nuisance pair.

“No, don’t. Just have them come over first. And then they can take BOTH of us to dinner.”

As soon as you send off your address, you put your phone down. Shoko’s ministrations on your legs intensifies subtly, but clearly with an agenda. You lean back against the arm of the couch as Shoko slowly massages her hands up your legs, focusing on the softer flesh on the insides of your thighs. You part your legs for her slightly as she gets closer to your clothed core.

The days have been long and you’ve hardly had time for yourself or your relationship since you’ve put official titles on it. You shift yourself so you’re now straddling Shoko. You reach your hands around her neck, threading your hands under her long, wheat-colored brown hair. When you met her, her hair was only touching her shoulders, but now it’s reaching far down her back. Her lips are so soft and inviting, a gentle sheen of spit covering them. Your eyes rake over her face, taking in every facial micromovement. You admire her lone freckle below her eye, something you’ve always found cute.

You lean in, lips parting slightly as her eyes glance up at you, pupils darkening in desire. As your tongues slipped past each other, they danced delicately but with increasing urgency as your lips press harder and Shoko takes a brief opening to nip at your lower lip, drawing out a soft moan from you. Your hands hold her neck tighter, one slipping up through her hair, giving it a light tug. Her hands start sliding back in between your legs, the side of her pinky finger lightly grazing your center which elicits a small grind from you. As your kiss slowly turns more frantic, trading breaks for air with trails of urgency on each others jawline, Shoko reaches under your shirt to gently wrap her hands under your voluminous tits. Still seated in a soft bralette, your nipples begin to harden as her hands slowly squeeze and make their way into the bralette and find your nipples with a soft squeeze.

You drop your hands to your sides and toss your head back at the sharp, but pleasurable sensations and start to roll your hips in Shoko’s lap, looking for some friction and relief for the growing tension. You whimper as the pinching and squeezing intensifies, tilting your head back up and you are met with eyes filled with pure lust. “I told you I wanted to continue from last night” Shoko growls. You just respond with a low moan. Shoko then uses her forearms to slide your shirt up and over your head, taking your bralette with it.

Now, your fully exposed chest and abdomen, your nipples clearly taut in response to the pleasure being shown to them. Shoko then leans down to one, taking it in her mouth with a light suck. Keeping her hand squeezing the other, she lightly bites down, rolling the puckered nipple in her teeth, sliding her slick tongue across. She releases it with a pop, letting it and your breast drop and give a little lewd jiggle. She repeats the process on your other nipple. You are still wantonly grinding your hips in her lap, keening against her touch.

As your body continues to relax, your brain slowly shutting off the noise and entering that cozy, listful, lustful subspace headspace, your hands claw at your girlfriends’ shirt and pull it off of her during a brief moment when her lips aren’t attached to your body. The moment her skin is exposed, you bring yourself vertical and then over, pressing your breasts into hers, enjoying the soft and supple squeezes from your body weight onto Shoko. You reach in to grasp the sides of your shared mass of tits, squeezing and pushing them together.

You are in a daze, skin on fire, as you are drunk from your beer and the lust spreading through your veins. You always knew you were bisexual, although you couldn’t put a fine point on it until you met Shoko while at your lab’s new grad student orientation 3 and a half years ago. You moved across the country for grad school, knowing you’d need to start over again and find new (local) friends. You were taking in the space when you turned around and saw Shoko Ieri walk in the room, immediately disorienting you and a sudden warmth spreading into your center. You couldn’t look her in the eye for the entire first month.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Shoko brings you out of your daze as she wraps her hand around the back of your neck. “Want to start with that new toy I picked up recently?”

“O-oh, yeah, I haven’t tried something like that before!” You start to untangle yourself from Shoko and roll off the couch. You’re chased by Shoko into the bedroom as she reaches out to pinch at your sweatpants-covered ass, you making sure she can still catch you. There’s fun in the chase, but so is there in getting caught. You leap at the bed, spin around and sit on your legs patiently while Shoko disappears into her closet. She returns quickly, now in nothing but a lace thong and brandishing a modest, slightly curved silicone dildo in her hands, twirling her hair with her other hand. You bounce a bit in anticipation, soft tits still jiggling as you stop moving. You move to remove your sweatpants, but are cut off.

“Ah ah ah, hands off. Why are you trying to deny me the fun? I said we are going to continue from yesterday. Which means it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“We don’t need to keep a running tally for equitability sake!” you whine, sticking your lip out in an over-exaggerated pout.

“You’re right, but since this is celebrating us putting some structure and a title to” she waves her hand between the two of you “this, I want to finish what you started. Now, lay back, please.” You settle on the duvet, heart racing, feeling giddy. Last night you off-handedly said ‘I love you’ over dinner at home. It came out of nowhere, but you were just chatting and catching up from the day over a bowl of spaghetti, and it just fell out of your mouth while Shoko nearly choked mid-slurp.

Shoko sets the toy down on the bed and climbs up the bed, caging you in. As she reaches your middle, she sits back on her heels and tugs at your pants. She loved how you always returned to your own apartment or hers and would immediately change into comfortable room wear, shedding the stuffy denim and wired bras for soft cottons and gentle elastics. Pulling your hair back to keep it out of your face, it certainly made easier to grab in the heat of sex and teasing. After she removed your pants and panties, reveling at your exposed frame, Shoko admired your neatly trimmed hair framing your glistening pussy. “Mine.”

Soft kisses with small nibbles sprinkled in begin to chase up the inside of your legs, feet planted on the bed. As the kisses intensify, your knees fall further apart. Your hands come up to your hair as you lace your fingers through to ground yourself. Gently, two fingers spread your folds open and you let out a small gasp. “Mmm I just love to tease your pussy.” One slender finger slides in, your soft walls pulling it in deeper until your girlfriend’s middle finger is sheathed up to the knuckle. She flips her palm upwards and curls the finger inside of you while bringing her thumb to rest on your hardening clitoris. Your hips begin to buck at the movements, moans increasing. Slowly sliding her finger out, pressure still on your clit, Shoko adds a second finger and begins to rub circles with her thumb and thrusting her fingers in and out. She looks up from her ministrations to watch your face go through a million small emotions in pleasure. “That’s it, love. Let me hear you, don’t hold back.” You unwind on her hand, fluttering around her fingers, riding out your high with loud moans and grinding hips.

As you come back down, Shoko reaches over to the toy, aligning the flat, angled tip with your hole, pulling out her fingers. “Ready?” she whispers, but with an edge of gravel on her voice. She also grabs a small remote that you didn’t initially see and reaches up to place it in your hands. “I also got a treat for you. Feel free to press the buttons as you want and see what happens”

Slowly, Shoko presses the toy into your soaked pussy, as the tip disappears in, she turns it on to the lowest vibration setting. You give a sharp inhale as you push your head back further into the pillows. You recollect yourself as the toy makes its way further into you, and bring your hand up to see what this remote is. Just two buttons, marked by a plus and minus sign. You touch the plus button and suddenly a sultry and surprised “Ahhh mmmmm” Shoko whines from between your legs. Her progress to slide in the toy momentarily halted as she adjusted to the vibrating inside of her. She regains composure as she seats the toy fully inside you and rotates it around until you slam your eyes shut and cry out in pure pleasure. “Ah ha, found it. So hot.” Shoko bought a g-spot vibrator and adjusted it till she found the right spot inside of you.

Squirming somewhat, Shoko slowly moves the vibrator around, placing her free hand on your abdomen with pressure against you. Your hips begin to gyrate and roll with increased intensity every time the head of the toy makes contact with the spongy sensitive bundle of nerves inside your walls. “Sho—Shooookoooo ple- FUCK please~” you preen and attempt to stammer out some words. You increase the intensity on the remote.

“Ye-s, l-ove? You’re doing so, so, hnf, well, better than the fantasies I had all day of this- of this mooooment.” Shoko showers you with praise, stuttered by her own building pleasure, knowing exactly what is to come next.

“Ahhh, Sho—Shoko, I’m-com-” You attempt to tell her what you’re feeling as the pressure in your abdomen has reached a fever pitch, ready to incinerate you at the lightest touch. Shoko steadies the vibrator right on the nerves and brings her thumb up to apply pressure to your clit and lowers her body to get closer to your core. “Give it all to me.” At that moment you scream obscenities as your body releases the built-up pressure and you squirt directly into Shoko’s waiting mouth. Helping you ride out your pleasure pushed Shoko over the edge, too, as she rolls her hips along with the waves of her own orgasm. As your body begins to slow it’s movements, she turns off the vibrator and removes it from you. She also reaches down to her own bullet vibrator and removes it, still shaking as you’re too high on your own pleasure to find the remote.

Shoko sits up and wipes your slick from her face, reaching a hand up to you to clean off. “Good girl.” You whimper at the affirmation, pulling on her wrist to bring her up to you, her body draped on yours. When you finish lapping up the wetness on her hand, you twist your head over and your mouths meet in lazy but passionate kissing. Tongues lazily exploring each other, gratitude shared between the two of you.

“Shower?” You nod, slowly rolling yourself over, legs finding the ground albeit a bit shakily. Shoko steps out ahead, sliding into the en suite ahead of you to warm up the shower and grab towels. You stand in front of the mirror admiring your body, re-adjusting your hair and pulling the strays that have fallen out back up. You step in to the shower, bottoms of your feet chilled on the hard tile floor, but skin warmed by the scaldingly hot shower.

“Ahhhh, perfect” You reach out to rest your hands on Shoko’s waist as you both take a moment to relax in the warmth of each other and the water.

“Yeah, you are, love.” You giggle at the admiration. Shoko’s hands come up to gently massage your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples. She closes the gap between you and nudges her leg in between yours, rubbing her thigh against your sensitive folds. You let out a soft moan, feeling sensitive and on-edge already, after just a moment. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You continue to grind on her thigh as she holds pressure against your heat. Your hands slide up to Shoko’s chin, cupping her face and you dive in for a kiss. Your lips are urgent and needy as you moan into her mouth, biting her lips with every wave of building pressure. After several minutes, Shoko breaks the kiss, pulling away and you whine as her leg also pulls back. She begins kissing down the column of your neck, down the center of your clevage, past your navel, sinking to her knees to worship at your altar.

Wordlessly, Shoko nudges your legs further apart, guiding you so you are now leaning against the cold wall of the shower. Placing her hands on the front of your thighs, she slides them up to your folds and with her thumbs, spreads your pussy open, exposing your wet core to the warm shower air. She leans in to take a soft lick, savoring the first taste. You lean back on the wall for support, hands threading through Shoko’s hair.

“God you taste amazing. I can’t get enough of you.” Shoko uses her nose to rub against your oversensitive clit, reaching her tongue inside your sensitive cunt, applying light suction as she goes. Drinking up every drop your body offers, you can feel her moans reaching deep within you. Moving between deep licks inside your pussy to abusing your clit with the tip and flat of her tongue, you can feel the coil again twisting inside of you. With your moans completely unrestrained, you use your grip on her head to keep her pinned against your center.

“Baby, love, god” Shoko praises you at each short breath she takes. You don’t even have a moment to tell her as suddenly the coil snaps and you silently scream as she eagerly accepts the orgasm she pulled from your body. Her hands wrapping around your hips, holding you close as you buck against her touch. Once you have stopped moving so harshly, she stands up and your lips crash together one more time, you licking your wetness off her face, her embracing and holding you.

“I’ve never felt so relaxed with someone, Sho. You’re my best friend, my love, I can’t see a future without you.” Your mouth is moving faster than your brain, letting your admissions tumble out. A common occurrence for you recently. Shoko just smiles and you wash each other clean, taking time to massage tender areas, and scrub the rough ones. After you step out of the shower, you both go through your nightly skin care and pre-bed routines. Passing products between each other, prepping and moving as one practiced unit.

Now laying in bed, you are in the crook of your girlfriends’ arm while you both scroll on your phones. Eventually putting them down and rolling into a more comfortable sleeping position (as cute as cuddling is, you both know that it’s not comfortable for sleeping all night. No one likes numb limbs!). You both drift off to sleep, feeling happy and content with each other.

[enavstars]

Some characters in the Cyberpunk au (part 1)

I tried to make Echo and Zane more robot-like since robots are pretty much treated like people regardless of their appereance. And Garmadon's design is from when the rgb are kids so he's younger (he's not an Oni in this au).

Characters details from within the story:

Echo

Echo is created by a younger Julien (like in his 30s) as a test run for his project to build himself an assistant to deal with his chronic disease, which, despite not being deadly per se, it could still leave him impaired in the long run and therefore he needed some sort of safe net just in case.

But sadly, the prototype's AI ends up being deficient for his purpose as he is not able to process neither human emotions nor their needs, so after much deliberation, Julien decides to set him free rather than letting him collect dust in his storage.

However, Echo could not fit into the city's human society either, as people would not accept his strange speech nor behavior. This eventually culminated in an assault by one of the problematic gangs that sprouted up after the crisis, where they thrashed the helpless robot relentlessly and even managed to damage his voice module. He then was trashed out to the Outside, and from there, mauled and hopeless, he wandered aimlessly and without a purpose in life for a long time.

But at one point through his senseless journey, he stumbled upon a couple of abandoned kids crying in the middle of the woods. Even though he did not understand what their tears meant, he was curious, so from then on he started acting as their guardian.

Thanks to them, slowly but surely he began to learn about human emotions and, as he could only do little beeps to communicate, he also figured out a way to communicate without words. Although sometimes he was still lacking as a caregiver, he worked hard to develop the necessary skills to look after their (newly discovered) basic human needs, like fishing and hunting. He even takes a third kid in after Kai and Nya find another lost boy in the woods and convince him to keep him.

As they grow, he also begins to teach them how to be self-sufficient, because he is painfully aware that he would never be capable of being a better parent due to his poor programming. It is in this context when, years later when Echo finds a potential job opportunity as the ferryman to the city, the RGB urge him to take the chance, knowing that he wants to work to feel more useful and wanting to have more solo adventures.

Even though he was reluctant to leave them behind, he is now the happiest he's ever been and still looks after his children whenever they need him (even going so far as to risk his job) out of his gratitude for granting him another chance in his doomed life.

Ronin

Currently retired, he used to be a renowned mercenary and bounty hunter in his youth. However, he gradually gained more and more enemies and got himself into more and more dangerous trouble (which is why he’s a full cyborg now), until eventually, battered and grown past the age of peak physical strength, he decided to quit to save his ass.

From then on, he started looking after the demon children around the most miserable parts of their struggling segregated neighborhood in exchange for minor treasure hunts; this is why he is now protected from his remaining enemies, as many of them grew up to become members of some of the local gangs (also as an added bonus Garmadon is a pretty ominous legend and people are kind of afraid of hurting demons because of him, but more on that later).

Although he lives rather isolated from the rest of society because of his (extensive) criminal record, he still manages to make ends meet with the treasures he got from all his exploits and the profits of the little side quests he tasks the children in exchange for his care.

No he’s not charity, he’s a wine uncle, but he is an asshole to everyone (especially humans) except the kids. In fact, even though he does not give out help for free, he always ends up rewarding them with his teachings and advice and about life on top of the food and shelter, so almost every child he's taken under his wing ends up becoming pretty competent to face the harsh society they live in.

And in particular, he grows to like the RGB a lot because he recognizes their wit and appreciates how cunning they can be, sometimes even negotiating with him and being capable enough to uno reverse his little tricks on the kids like they are equals (for example, Nya stealing her brother’s bionic eye blueprints to avoid being totally dependant on Ronin for maintenance).

In fact, later on when Nya introduces him to Jay (a human) to be his apprentice as a mechanic, she somehow convinces him despite his hate for his kind.

Bonus: when he meets Jay at first he’s irritated at him because he takes his fear and shyness as racism, but the kid is just intimidated by the sassy cyborg (don't worry, eventually he figures it out and the child grows on him, Jay is too cute).

(I will talk about Jay in my next post dw)

Zane (24NE)

He’s the successful final product of Julien’s project, a kind and refined assistance nindroid knowledgeable in human care. His role is very important to him, so when his father died he lost all purpose in life and, unable to deal with his grief on top of that existential crisis, he became depressed and stagnant, trapped in his own mind inside his creator’s abandoned home and slowly wasting away due to his mental stress and a lack of maintenance now that nobody could look after him.

And he stayed in that sorry state until the RGB found the house and, upon looting it for supplies, Nya stumbled upon the nindroid lying dormant next to Julien’s bed. When she wakes him up, his rusty voice module is damaged and he can’t speak properly (Julien is shit at making those apparently), so she repairs it as best as she can and as a result, he eventually becomes their friend.

Although they were wary at first, they understood his situation, and in the end they decided to help him by introducing him to Doctor Rashid (an oc) to learn more about biology and medicine.

Speaking of, I’ll talk more about Dr. Rashid in another future post but basically he’s an oc of mine I inserted in this au, a friend of Kai and Nya’s and sort of a parental figure.

Garmadon

He is an elusive red-eyed demon, the rarest of his kind, and a criminal brought to legendary status. Now vanished and rarely ever seen amongst the city shadows, he used to be an undefeatable wandering warrior. He would spread chaos everywhere he went and, along the way, he would mercilessly murder anyone opposed to the Demon’s Rights movement.

However, one day he disappeared suddenly from the face of the earth. But his legacy carries on to this day: he is feared universally, considered an antihero by his followers and a bloodthirsty criminal by the rest.

A few months after his disappearance, though, a human woman named Misako gave birth to a demon child with ominous red eyes. Soon, people started making the connection and his mother, who by that point had developed a deep hatred towards demons, was put under such public scrutiny that she ended up abandoning him on the Outside to leave behind the city and her trauma along with it.

Sadly for Garmadon, it was too late when he finally learned that he had a son. He’d left Misako pregnant without either of them knowing, and after he was gone she had been unable to reach him. For that reason, when he came back to the city years later and at last he found out, in the end he decided to let Lloyd be with his new family, as he he realized he had no right to take him in after being absent the entirety of his short life when he already had the two loving siblings looking after him.

After that, he turned back to his wandering, and he was barely ever seen again.

[rae-pss]

Good afternoon rae! hope you have a nice day 😌

So about the whb self aware Au , The reader ( us ) is control the Mc ( Ra-on ) nody right? even so there will be a difference bitween reader/us and the Mc like : souls , aura right? the devil or even the angel pretty much can sense it but need some time to distinguish between both. Like when the reader control or even talk through Mc body is will show ( little / much ) the difference right? I just wonder how they will reaction about it when they start to knowlege that the mc being control by us for that moment can be? ( No need all the reaction of them , like the seraphim or the king ) 🤔🤭

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . good afternoon to you too! damn, inspiration tends to come to me once per month or how is this even possible; yet, i'll post separately the seraphim ones (one i manage to write it down). well, whatever, once more thanks for sharing your ideas with me, sweetie. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 448 words.

〔 SATAN 〕

—satan's the first to realize the sudden changes that the human suffered at times. the fact of being with her most of the time gives him the privilege of being able to notice those strange quirks before anyone else.

—that said, sadly, it didn't dawn on him that it could be a sign that the presence he felt at times seeing him was manifesting in ra-on. It wasn't until he found himself lost in her eyes that her pieces wanted to form the puzzle.

—loves being able to talk, being able to just be with you whenever the opportunity presents itself. this demon seems to live longer every time that, for some other reason, he manages to feel an iota of anger in you when you are in the human body.

〔 MAMMON 〕

—when he realized how his master's aura was becoming more intense, and how her behavior was consequently changing, it didn't take long for mammon to connect one point with another.

—now he understood why the others, aka the gehenna demons, seemed to not want to leave her alone with anyone else for long.

—he doesn't miss an opportunity to talk to you, that superior being who seems to control ra-on in the crazy adventure he lived there in hell. once even admitting that there was when he could touch your bottom directly.

〔 LEVIATHAN 〕

—observative and perceptive as he alone, it did not take leviathan long to realize that these changes in the human were due to the presence that seemed to be over everyone.

—firstly, as it should be, he took it in a somewhat bad way. his envy shining brightly knowing that some already knew before him. the audacity… despite that, as it should be, he had to accept that even with his internal rage.

—if the opportunity arose, he would spend it with you in her castle, preferably inside her chambers where nothing and no one could interrupt you.

〔 BEELZEBUB 〕

—of all of them, I would say that beelzebub is the last, or one of them, to realize what is happening regarding you and the position of ra-on's body. for nothing other than the reason we all know, his constant disappearances and unforeseen appearances.

—of course, he only needed to be in front of that new human aura once to decipher who he was really talking to. that characteristic side smile of his showing itself on his features.

—every time he gets the opportunity to be close to you, be sure that he will take advantage of it. however, don't get too attached, because as always, he will end up leaving before you know it.

[jjungkookislife]

Slumber Party!

pairing: rommate!jungkook x bi! f. reader x bi!original character

genre: roommate au, fwb, friends to lovers, angst, smut [18+]

summary: Friday nights are for slumber parties with your best friend, Kari. A night of drinking, watching movies from your younger years, and kissing that usually leads to more. Jungkook is aware of your routine, leaving for a night out with his friends that he cuts short. However, he's in luck when Kari catches his eye and invites him to join the two of you.

wc: 7k

warnings: fwb (reader and oc), oc and reader have crushes/feelings for each other, alcohol mention/use, slight voyeurism, mention of m. and f. masturbation, marking (hickeys, scratching, biting), some self-deprecation(?), spanking, hair pulling, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), ffm threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, tit fucking, cum facial, snowballing

date: September 1, 2023

The moment Jungkook informed you he’d be out for the night, you knew it was the perfect opportunity to invite your best friend Kari over. Kari was a goddess in your eyes; absolutely gorgeous. She was shorter than you, with long hair down her back that was half black and half blue right down the middle. Her beautiful, sun-kissed skin had tattoos scattered on her thighs, chest, and arms. The day she stopped wearing bras and pierced her nipples was glorious; she was a beauty, and it made your legs go weak. Not only that, but she was an amazing friend and kisser.

The thought of your best friend made you giddy. Not only would you be able to have a sleepover like usual, but with Jungkook gone for the night, you’d be able to hook up and be as loud as you wanted. You weren’t going to lie. Having Jungkook’s room on the other side of your wall proved to be an inconvenience when Kari was over and you were in a mood.

“Call me if you need anything or want me to come home,” Jungkook states seriously. He clings to the front door, his head still in your apartment with the rest of his body out on the porch. You’re trying to shut the door, but his big ole head won’t move.

“Jungkook, I appreciate the concern. I do. But all we’re doing is watching Twilight and taking shots whenever Edward rejects Bella. You know, a typical Friday night?” you say and Kari nods from her spot on the couch. Jungkook looks at you and then at Kari, who smiles widely, waving hard enough for her boobs to bounce. Jungkook’s eyes widen, cheeks pink as he looks at you one last time. “Promise me you’ll call if you need me?”

You nod. “I promise, Jungkook. I’ll call if we need you.”

Jungkook licks his lips as he looks at you, nodding as he waves and finally leaves. You giggle as you shut the door, shaking your head.

“Got the drinks ready?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen to grab Kari’s favorite wine tumbler, a pretty glow-in-the-dark one that reads “Witches Brew”. 

“Got it! Bring the wine coolers too!” Kari shouts in response. You pop open the fridge, grabbing two wine coolers before shutting it and heading to your bedroom. Kari is already lying on your King-sized bed by the headboard, her sleep shorts riding up on her thighs to display her tattoos. Thighs you hoped to be smothered with later on.

“Start it,” you tell her as you set your drinks on the nightstand before climbing under the covers with her. She waits for you to settle before she hits play and moves closer to you, easily draping her arm around your waist.

“He’s such an asshole, and for what? He ends up banging her anyway,” Kari scoffs as Edward tells Bella she needs to stay away from him again.

You laugh, earning a scowl from your friend. “He acts like he’s not gonna knock her up right away.”

“He’s misunderstood,” you say, knowing it’ll make her spiral into a rant about Edward and how he’s such an asshole. You love listening to her speak, so you listen attentively, nodding along and ignoring the movie playing in the background. The two of you haven’t even touched your drinks, both left forgotten on the nightstand.

“And don’t even get me started on Jacob!” she exclaims, her face flushed as she crosses her arms over her chest. She looks so cute, you can’t help but lean in and kiss her cheek. She flushes, turning into a stuttering mess. 

“Keep talking, baby,” you encourage her, placing a kiss on her shoulder beside the strap of her tank top, her pierced nipples noticeable through the thin material.

“It’s just so dumb,” she complains as you cover her in kisses. 

“Mhmm, dumb,” you echo as you tug the strap off her shoulder.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kari giggles as you look up at her with glittering eyes. 

“Yeah, listening,” you smile goofily. She rolls her eyes. Her lips press against yours, so soft and sweet, it makes your heart somersault in your chest.

Friends, you cruelly remind yourself as she climbs over you. Your hands cradle her face, tongue pushing past the seam of her lips to meet hers. 

The way she moans your name has your body thrumming as you kiss her once again, hands sliding down to her hips. Her arms wrap around your neck, marking your skin gently.

“Pretty,” she murmurs against your neck, moving to sit up as her hands lace with yours. Her soft gaze has you melting beneath her.

Kari had always been straightforward, and confident in each of her moves, and when all this had first begun, she was the one who had kissed you in the backseat of a rideshare. From the first taste of your lips, she had realized she wanted to be more, even if it just meant friends with benefits. Kisses shared between friends meant nothing, right? Right?

“Kari,” her name escapes you easily, hands cupping her breasts as she rolls her hips against yours.

She hums in acknowledgment, her lips trailing kisses between your breasts. Her hands easily remove your top, unsurprised to find you without a bra. Her manicured hands grab a handful of your tits, thumbs flicking your pert nipples, giggling when you moan her name in a heady tone. She wants you tonight, no doubt about it. She wants to be the reason you’re trembling, out of breath, and sobbing because you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. She wants you in any way she can have you and for now; it seems like friends with benefits is what works for both of you. 

With gentle hands, you remove Kari’s top, kissing every new inch of skin that’s exposed. With a few giggles and bashful touches, your lips meet hers when you’re both topless.

She’s gentle with you. Her hand cupped your face as her tongue met yours, moaning softly against your lips. Your hands grip her hips, canting against her. You’re both dripping wet, eager to get a taste of each other…

Jungkook had half a beer before he decided he wasn’t in the mood to be out and get hit on nonstop when he was just trying to enjoy his night out with his friends. So with a sheepish smile, he wished his friends goodnight, reminding them to text him when they arrived home safely.

If he was honest, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew what your sleepovers with Kari consisted and he knew he’d be ruining your night hooking up with her, but he just couldn’t stay out and pretend he was having a good time when you weren’t at his side. Instead, he goes home earlier than expected, hoping you can forgive him for coming home so soon.

His thoughts overwhelm him, lost in his own world, as he walks through the front door. He’s on a whole other plane as he kicks his shoes off, tugging his shirt over his head before tossing it onto the couch. He unbuttons his pants, intent on heading to his bedroom until he hears a moan.

His eyes widen, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. He pauses outside your door, guilt bubbling in his abdomen, knowing better than to spy on you, but when you moan, his brain short circuits and he’s pressing himself against the wall beside your bedroom door.

Kari looks at your bedroom door, wondering if her eyes are playing tricks on her or if she’s seen your roommate. She says nothing, eyes focused on the crack of the door, noting movement when Jungkook tries to sneak past toward his room.

Kari smirks. “Would you fuck Jungkook?”

“Obviously,” you respond, kissing down her neck. Not thinking clearly enough to wonder why, as she moans when you bite down.

“How about a threesome with him?” Kari asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes, a sly smile on her lips as a moan of your name escapes her when you take her pert bud into your mouth.

Her fingers weave in your hair, losing her train of thought as your warm, wet mouth suckles her breast, tonguing her piercing. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, back arching off your bed as she moans your name.

Jungkook feels like a pervert watching from the door, cock throbbing in his tight pants. A groan escapes him, his large palm muffling it before you can hear him. He curses himself mentally, palming his cock with his free hand.

He was fucked. 

So fucked.

Kari has an evil gleam in her eyes, finally making eye contact with Jungkook. He swallows thickly, unable to form words. He’s helpless. Frozen in his spot, obligated to hear your answer.

“I’d let him rail me from one end to the other. Are you kidding? Have you seen him? I bet his cock is big, fuck.”

“So if he came home right now, would you let him join us?” Kari asks, smiling devilishly.

Jungkook glares, but she ignores him, licking her lips instead.

“Obviously. He’s hot as fuck. You haven’t seen him walking around in just his boxers, Kari. He’s a wet dream come true. Exquisite,” You bring your fingers to your lips, blowing a kiss into the air.

“You can join us, Jungkook,” Kari calls in a sing-song tone that has you whipping your head toward your bedroom door where a sheepish Jungkook stands, hand gripping his cock over his jeans.

“I should have known,” you chuckle when your eyes meet his. His sheepish smile has you melting as you beckon him into your bedroom.

Jungkook trips over his feet as he stumbles into your bedroom, doe eyes wide as he stutters out an apology. “I wasn’t spying! I came home early, a-and the door was open.”

“Don’t care, come here,” you instruct, and he gulps before nodding and making his way to you. You get off the bed to stand in front of him, licking your lips as you take in his perfect figure. You find it hard to keep your hands to yourself but lock eyes with Jungkook. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes as you run your hands over his shoulders, sliding them down his torso. Jungkook watches you closely, licking his lips when your hands grip the waistband of his unbuttoned pants.

Kari giggles on the bed as Jungkook blushes. “I was on my way to bed.”

“To listen and jerk off?” Kari asks as she crosses her arms over her chest and Jungkook looks away, cheeks blooming pink. He quickly realizes you’re topless as well and looks up at the ceiling.

“Jungkook,” you say his name gently, your hand on his cheek to make him look at you. “Do you want to join us?”

“Yes,” he answers honestly, nodding.

“Then don’t look away from us,” you tell him firmly as you place his hand on your breast. “We want you to enjoy yourself.”

Kari nods in agreement, going to stand beside you. Jungkook swallows thickly, the urge to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, becomes too strong. 

Kari and you share a look, covering your mouths when you giggle. Kari is the one who speaks up, smiling brightly. “You’re not dreaming, Kook.”

You nod. “We’re surprised it took you this long to join us.”

Jungkook can feel his ears burning, a shy smile on his lips as he looks at the two of you. Had you genuinely been waiting for him to join? 

“I didn’t want to impose,” Jungkook answers as you tug on his waistband, smiling at him before kissing him. Jungkook is quick to kiss you back, his hands gripping your hair to hold you to him while Kari sinks to her knees. 

Jungkook moans against you, his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips when you push yourself closer to him. He groans when Kari’s hand palms him over the denim of his jeans. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, biting his bottom lip as he looks down at Kari, whose big brown eyes meet Jungkook’s hooded ones. You’re both so gorgeous, Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. Sure, he’d dreamed of this moment time and time again, usually with his hand wrapped around his cock, biting his lip to keep from moaning your name, but now that it was happening, he was almost stunned. 

“Koo,” you whine softly, a soft kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth. He turns to look at you, but you’ve occupied yourself with trailing kisses from his jaw to his neck, finally kissing the irresistible little mole that drives you insane. You run your tongue over it, sucking his skin and making him groan while Kari is palming him harder, adding more pressure until Jungkook is tangling his fingers in her hair, gripping the teal harshly. 

Kari pouts, eyes meeting Jungkook’s before she’s tugging on your hand. You reluctantly part from Jungkook, dropping to your knees beside Kari with a wide grin. 

Fuck. Jungkook’s mouth waters at the sight of you two down on your knees for him, eager to take his cock in your mouth. His head spins, tongue peeking from between his lips to swipe along his bottom lip. 

Kari turns to you, capturing your lips in a kiss as your hands fumble to unzip Jungkook’s pants. Jungkook watches you intently with hooded eyes, lip caught between his teeth as the both of you pull his pants down his thighs until they bunch at his ankles. With a few hops and kicks, Jungkook gets his pants completely off, kicking them to the side on your bedroom floor. 

“Ooh,” Kari gushes with excitement once she wraps her hand around Jungkook’s hard length. 

“Fuck,” you curse, finally moving your hand to place on his cock. You’ve dreamed of this moment, unable to keep your thoughts innocent when it comes to your hot roommate. There were plenty of nights you’d go to bed with your hand in your panties and his name on your lips. You ignore the skip of your heartbeat, knowing getting your feelings involved leads to nothing but heartbreak. You weren’t sure you could handle Jungkook’s rejection as well as Kari’s.

Kari releases Jungkook, her lips pressing kisses to his hips as her fingers toy with the waistband of his CK boxer briefs. You stroke him over his boxers, feeling the pre-cum that soaks the cotton. Jungkook is overwhelmed with pleasure, eyes shut tight as he throws his head back; pretty marks left on his skin bloom with color. 

Pride swells in your chest, knowing you’re the one who’s left your mark on his pretty skin. Your heart skips a beat, cheeks flush with heat as you realize you’re finally going to be with your crush. Sure, you liked Kari a lot. She was gorgeous. But Jungkook also had your heart from the moment he moved in. 

However, you were willing to put those feelings aside if it meant you’d get to have him like this once. Just to get a taste of him. 

Who knows if he even liked you past the physical aspects? Maybe he just wanted a quick hookup after all those times he’s had to cum on his fingers after a night of listening in. You frown for a moment, shaking the thoughts out of your head. You weren’t going to let anything ruin this moment, not when his cock was hard and aching in your hand. 

Kari finally pulls away from Jungkook, giggling at the tiniest little hickey she’s ever made. You smile, pecking her lips before looking up at Jungkook, his lust-filled eyes already on you. 

“Get on the bed,” Kari demands as she stops touching Jungkook, moving your hands off his cock. 

Eager, Jungkook does as he’s told as Kari takes a second to kiss you, her hands cradling your face gently as her tongue slips past your lips and your hands are gripping her hands. Jungkook watches on in awe. He knew the two of you were more than friends, but seeing the two of you kiss made it clear that there was more to your friendship than just hooking up.

“Kook,” you say when you climb onto the bed with Kari at your side. You sit back on your heels and let Jungkook get an eyeful of your tits and hers, cupping them in your hands and rolling your nipples between your fingertips before Kari is kissing you again, pushing you onto your back and grinding her hips on yours.

Jungkook’s lips are parted, hand on his cock as he strokes himself. He bites his lip to keep some control over his rampant moans, eyes fluttering shut as he raises his hips to fuck into his hand.

There was no way this was happening.

When Jungkook opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see Kari naked, her panties on your bedroom floor. She’s unphased, her face between your legs, gripping both of them as she kisses one thigh and then the other. You play with your nipples, eyes focused on Kari as she flattens her tongue, swiping against the thin, soaked material of your pink panties.

“Kari,” you moan softly, hand gripping her hair as she does it again and then a third time before she pushes your panties to the side to get a taste of your essence. 

You’re dripping wet, pussy clenching around nothing as you moan Kari’s name again and again. “Kari, fuck.”

Jungkook wishes it was his name you were crying out.

Kari smacks her lips, tongue swiping along her bottom lip as she looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder. “Don’t just stare. Do something.”

Jungkook blinks once before moving closer. He meets your gaze, his hand reaching out to cup your face as he leans in close until his lips capture yours. Slowly, the two of you kiss, his lips muffling your moans as Kari takes your panties off.

Jungkook ends the kiss, licking his lips as he settles behind Kari. His hands run over the curve of her ass, gently smacking it. Kari giggles in response, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Jungkook smirks, his palm coming down harder on her cheek. It reddens underneath his palm. A soft curse escapes Kari, her moans muffled when her tongue meets your clit, swirling around it after.

Nerves eat up Jungkook. He’s dreamed of this so often, but truth be told, this was the first time he was in bed with two people. He was at a loss. 

Kari paused her actions, taking Jungkook’s hand in hers before bringing two of his tattooed fingers to her lips. With her eyes locked on his, she sticks her tongue out, licking both fingers before taking them in her mouth.

Slowly, Jungkook pushes them past her lips, in and out, until Kari is drooling around them. Once she deems them wet enough, she guides his hand to her wet cunt. Jungkook only hesitates for a moment, your moan drawing his attention as Kari is back between your legs, talented tongue making you moan her name.

Jungkook’s cock throbs in the confines of his boxers. Biting back a moan, he focuses on Kari. He slowly pushes into her wet pussy, curling his fingers. He moans, slowly fucking in and out of her while her face is buried between your legs, her moans muffled as Jungkook fingerfucks her. 

You arch off the bed, hands gripping Kari’s hair tighter than necessary, thighs shaking as her tongue circles your clit just the way you like. Her fingers work your cunt, familiar with your body enough to know what gets you off. You're a mess on the sheets, only worse when your gaze meets Jungkook’s heated one.

“Fuck, Kook,” you moan, biting your lip as you refuse to break eye contact. He never stops fucking Kari with his fingers. Instead, he adds a third finger and his thumb to her clit, smirking when Kari’s thighs tremble.

Kari raises her head, smirking at you as her fingers gently pinch your clit. Your eyes lock on hers as she licks her lips slowly, going back between your thighs as your hand loosens slightly on her hair. You curse, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, breathing ragged as watches the two of you, making sure his actions don’t stop as Kari fucks back onto his fingers. She raises her head just enough to beg Jungkook to fuck her.

“Shit,” Jungkook nods. He ruefully leaves the two of you, climbing off the bed to grab his jeans and pull two condoms out. He sets one on the nightstand, noting your untouched drinks and setting the other packet beside the bottles.

“Kari,” Jungkook breathes as he strokes his cock, groaning when he palms himself. “Are you sure?”

Kari raises her head again. “Yes, please. Please, Kook. I need it.”

Jungkook nods, ignoring the way his heart thunders in his chest. With a tattooed hand, he holds the condom packet to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth with practiced ease. He still takes a moment to make sure his teeth haven’t punctured the latex before he puts it on. His hands shake as he does so, but he’s excited and perhaps a little nervous.

Kari is still eating you out with reckless abandon. Your sweet moans fill the bedroom and go straight to his cock. Fuck, he can’t wait to bury himself inside you as well.

Jungkook grabs a handful of Kari’s ass, cursing when it jiggles as he smacks the other cheek. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve two beautiful women, but he will cherish it for as long as he lives. 

He’s gentle as he slips his fingers back into Kari, who arches into him, round ass nearly pressing against him as he teases her entrance. He uses her arousal to lubricate his cock further before he’s pressing the head of his dick to her cunt.

Kari curses, but it’s muffled by your thighs when you press them to her head, arching off the bed as you moan her name. Your hands grip your breasts, fingers teasing your nipples as your breath grows heavy. Your mind spins, falling over the edge as Kari grips your thighs tighter in her hands to keep you from squirming out of her reach.

Jungkook lines his cock up at Kari’s entrance, slowly pushing the head in. 

“Fuck, Kari,” he breathes, head falling back, eyes sewn shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Fuck, it’s so big,” Kari breathes as Jungkook slides home. His hands dig into her hips as she takes a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes meet yours and she’s nearly panting. “You were right.” 

Jungkook raises a brow in confusion before Kari continues.

“He has a fat cock, fuck,” Kari nearly slumps forward, face first into your cunt as you giggle and help hold her up. You get on your knees in front of her, kissing her. Jungkook strokes Kari’s back, his hands moving to grab handfuls of her ass, spanking her while your tongue slips past the seam of her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.

“I fucking told you,” you goad as Jungkook chuckles. He cards a hand through his long hair, his lip rings catching the light. You clench around nothing as you watch his broad shoulders, his chest tapering to his tiny waist and finally, to where his body connects to your best friend, and fuck, it’s a miracle you don’t cum then.

Jungkook catches your gaze, smiling wolfishly as he grabs Kari by the hips, pulling nearly all the way out just to slam back into her. Kari’s head falls forward, his name rolling off her tongue in a needy whine. You bite back a moan, focused on Jungkook fucking Kari, each thrust making her moan and curse. You wish it was you but you know you’ll get your turn so you lay back and watch, your fingers teasing your clit as you watch Jungkook fuck Kari.

“Fuck, Kari. That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Just like that,” Jungkook curses as Kari meets each of his thrusts. You moan, the sound of their coupling filling the room, twining with your wanton moans as you work yourself to an orgasm. Jungkook smirks when you fall apart, his name on your lips as you lock eyes with him. Crying out for him and then Kari as you fall into the pillows. 

“Fuck,” Kari moans and makes you scoot closer to her. She takes your thighs in her hands and licks you clean, moaning while Jungkook fucks her, spanking her just to make her scream into you.

Jungkook slips his hand between her legs, rubbing her clit and moaning her name when she clenches around him. Her moans grow higher in pitch, her body still meeting each of his thrusts as her legs quiver and her breathing grows heavy until she’s hitting her peak and cumming around Jungkook, near tears when he thrusts into her again and again.

Jungkook pushes his hair out of his eyes, focused as Kari takes every thick inch of his cock, creaming around him until he’s moaning, cumming into the condom as soon as she falls apart one more time. You follow soon after, Kari’s tongue a treasure as you fall limp into the sheets once again with Kari joining you.

Jungkook chuckles, taking the condom off to discard it into the trashcan under your bedside table. He’s sweating, his perfect chest glistening and you lick your lips when you eye his abs. Fuck, you’d lick him clean up and down right now if you weren’t so spent.

Jungkook is still hard, his cheeks pink as he wonders what he should do. Should he go to his room or stay and wait to see what happens?

“Come here,” you instruct him, patting the spot beside you. Jungkook nods, swallowing thickly as he climbs onto the bed. You kiss him when he lays beside you, your hand cradling his cheek. Slowly, the two of you kiss, his hands gripping your hips as you straddle him.

“Get comfy, baby,” you whisper to him as you kiss your way down his jaw toward his neck and down his chest as your hands greedily explore every bit of his perfect torso. Fuck, you’d love to eat off his abs, take his cock down your throat until tears ran down your cheeks. There’s so much you want to do but you’re easily distracted when Kari and Jungkook kiss above you while you continue to head down south, kissing and marking each of his hips.

Jungkook moans your name, grinning when you tease him with the tip of your tongue just to wrap your hand around him. Your lips plant a wet kiss on the underside of his cock, your tongue following after as you lick him from base to tip.

“Can I sit on your face?” you hear Kari ask and Jungkook eagerly nods in agreement, helping Kari sit on his face while your lips wrap around him. He curses but it’s muffled, enjoying the heat of your mouth as you tease him, your hand rolling his balls in your palm until you're popping off him with one last lick to the head of his cock.

Straddling Jungkook, you stroke him with one hand while grabbing the condom off the nightstand. You rip the package open, tossing the wrapper off the side of the bed before putting the condom on Jungkook. He groans when you squeeze him after, nearly drooling at how hard he is.

Slowly, you sink onto him. You moan his name, cursing and closing your eyes as you bottom out. Jungkook grips Kari’s thighs tighter, his tongue only faltering slightly. Fuck, he feels so hot, like he’s going to combust any second.

Kari reaches behind her, grabbing handfuls of his thick hair to steady herself as her hips roll, her clit rubbing against his beautiful nose. Fuck, you can’t wait for your turn on his face. You wanna suffocate him, have him begging for air as he grips your thighs to keep you in place, his need for you outweighing his need for air.

Your hands fall flat on his chest, your hips rising and falling on his cock. You love the ache of the stretch, nearly gasping for air as you sink on him once again, your hair falling over your eyes until you raise your head. Kari leans forward, grinding down on Jungkook as you lean to meet her lips.

One of her hands releases Jungkook’s hair and the other grips yours as she fucks herself on Jungkook’s face, suffocating him for all she cares as you fuck yourself on his fat cock, whimpering into the kiss as you take more and more of him.

You feel so fucking full and tears form in the corner of your eyes as you bounce on him, your kiss with Kari growing sloppy; nothing but teeth and tongues and pleasure for the three of you.

You tighten around Jungkook.

Jungkook grabs Kari’s round ass, his other hand reaching for your clit. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the both of you to cum while fucking him. He’s so overwhelmed with pleasure, Kari’s essence heavy on his tongue and your warm, wet cunt begging to be fucked full of cum, someday.

For now, he settles for the warmth and wetness as you cry out for him, nails digging into his chest while Kari’s thighs tremble at his head. He slurps hungrily, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Fuck, he’d love to see the look on your faces as you cum, using him for your pleasure and nothing else.

Jungkook’s cock twitches and you groan, riding him harder, faster as you beg him to make the two of you cum. 

Jungkook curses; focused on nothing but pleasuring each of you. Kari is the first to go, screaming as she grinds against him, cumming so hard, she grows dizzy for a moment. She doesn’t climb off him, just scoots forward to help make you cum and kisses you for a split second before you’re falling apart again.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” you scream. Kari climbs off him and he sits up, rubbing your clit, grateful he can see you cum on his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for us,” Kari encourages in between kisses, biting the sensitive spot on your neck that makes you tighten around Jungkook as his hands grab your ass. He moans your name, eyes fluttering shut as his head lolls back on the pillow.

He licks his lips, forcing his eyes open to watch you crumble on top of him. Kari is guiding your hips, a hand between your legs, nearly drooling as she watches you cream around him, crying out his name and hers as your body tightens and you whine for Jungkook.

Jungkook curses. “Fuck, ride me, baby. Just like that.”

“So close,” you grit, ignoring the sweat beading on your forehead. Your hips meet each of his thrusts, crying out when Jungkook plants his feet firmly on the mattress. 

“Hold on,” is all he says before he’s raising his hips to fuck into you. You cry out, nearly sobbing as he fills you to the brim. You feel him in your stomach as your thighs tremble to cling to his hips. Kari is moaning beside you, her hand between her legs as she watches, nearly coming undone just from watching the two of you.

“Jungkook! Kook,” you moan, nails digging into his abs as he cries out. You’d love to hear him moan some more, melt with each one.

Kari cums first, crying out as she falls apart beside you. You both watch with lust-filled eyes until you’re clenching around Jungkook, head lolling back, his name on your tongue as you cum wrapped around him.

Jungkook watches you intently, drinking you in fully in case it’s the last time. Mesmerized by the wanton look on your face, the rocking of your hips, and the way you say his name repeatedly. His heart skips a beat and nearly drowns out the last moan of his name that escapes you.

Once you’re trying to catch your breath, Jungkook smirks.

“Up for one more?” he asks. You nod, ignoring the trembling of your legs as he kisses you. His hand cups your cheek, and you melt into his touch, tasting Kari on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to kiss Kari.

“Come on, baby,” Kari guides you off Jungkook’s cock. She helps you onto your hands and knees while she lays beneath you. Jungkook settles behind you, his hands running down the curve of your back, focusing on grabbing your ass and spanking it to draw a moan from you.

Jungkook spreads you open, licking his lips before he’s leaning forward to lick you clean. You’re moaning into Kari, pushing your ass into his face as his tongue works wonders on your cunt. He’d love to eat you out all day and night until he can’t breathe but his cock throbs and he reluctantly pulls away. He lines his cock up at your entrance, pushing in and cursing when he bottoms out again.

“Ugh,” you whine as you bite down on Kari’s thigh. She moans your name, turning into a puddle under you as you lave your tongue over the bite mark. She grips your hair as Jungkook sets a comfortable pace, allowing you to feel him deeper inside. You arch your back, taking every thrust like a champ as he grips you tightly.

“Fuck, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook groans, eyes focused on where your body meets his. Kari whines under the two of you, slowly sliding out from under you to get to the side. She loves to watch, smirking as Jungkook fucks you harder. Her hands run over his body, pinching his brown nipples and he grunts. 

Jungkook grips Kari’s teal hair, pulling her close to kiss her while you fuck yourself on Jungkook’s thick cock, crying out his name and begging him to make you cum while Kari pushes past the seam of his lips, moaning when he pulls back and bites her lip. Kari licks her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he slowly helps raise you. Carefully, he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and you nearly cum at the insinuation.

“Please, Koo. Choke me,” you plead, nearly in tears as your hand rests over his on your throat. You add a little more pressure and Jungkook curses.

“Gently squeeze the sides,” Kari instructs. She raises his other hand, putting it on her throat and guiding him on where and how much to squeeze.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg. That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s squeezing the sides like Kari had shown him moments before. The effect is immediate, you’re fucking against him, taking his cock as deep as possible just to slam back down on him. Jungkook watches your ass jiggle as you use him for your pleasure. Your head falls back onto his chest and he leans in to kiss you, muffling your cries of pleasure as you finally let go and orgasm around him, squeezing the soul out of him.

Jungkook grunts, holding back as you cum and nearly sob when he lets go of your pretty throat. You look gorgeous in the throes of passion and it’s something he will engrave into his mind for as long as he lives.

When you finally come down, you’re panting. Kari giggles when you fan yourself, nearly collapsing on both of them as your thighs shake in an effort to hold you up.

“You didn’t cum,” Kari notes with a frown as Jungkook pulls out. He shrugs.

“No big deal.”

“Do you want to?” Kari asks.

Jungkook blushes but nods and says yes.

Kari nods as she takes Jungkook hand in hers. “Care to stand?”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook swallows thickly as he quickly takes the condom off to discard. Kari grins as she gets down on her knees. 

Jungkook tongues his cheek, watching her with hooded eyes. He tongues his lips rings as he looks down at her, eager to make him cum. Her dark brown eyes are like melted chocolate, soft and comforting but striking when the light hits them just right. Her black and blue hair suits her. He runs a hand through her hair as she wraps her hand around his length, stroking him slowly. Kari leans forward to spit on his cock, using the saliva to aid her.

“Shit,” Jungkook curses, shaking his head. He’s so sensitive, just wants to cum but also wants to last as long as the two of you need him too, though you both look spent. You scoot closer to watch, licking your lips as you watch Kari’s skilled hand stroke him, her tongue teasing the head of Jungkook’s cock.

Kari grins, she teases him a little more, spitting and wetting his cock before she presses her tits together for Jungkook to fuck. 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, cock aching for release. Kari allows him to set the pace, licking and kissing the head of his cock when it gets close enough. She giggles every time Jungkook grunts and groans. His sweet moans hit the two of you hard until you can’t resist the temptation anymore and climb off the bed to join Kari on the floor in front of Jungkook.

“Fuck, please,” he pleads in a tone that sets you alight as Kari strokes him while you palm his balls, licking the head of his cock while Kari focuses on the parts you can’t reach.

The two of you kneel as close as possible, both tonguing at his dick. Jungkook throws his head back, moaning in pleasure, cock throbbing in your mouth when you welcome him in. You bob your head up and down, swallowing when he hits the back of your throat. Kari kisses his hips, thighs, moving down to lick and suck at his balls, mindful of her teeth and your head when you take him deeper. 

You focus on breathing, your eyes locking on his when you look up. You slowly pull off him, lips and cheeks coated in spit and pre-cum and Jungkook thinks you look gorgeous. He guides you back onto his cock, grunting when Kari sucks on his balls, and then joins you in licking and slurping at his thick cock. He’s so close, his body thrumming with pleasure and the need to cum.

Jungkook grabs you by the hair, fucking into your mouth. You open wider, moans muffled by his fat cock on your tongue until he’s pulling out enough just to cum on your lips and tongue. You moan, eyes shut to avoid the sting of his cum. He chuckles for a split second before pleasure overwhelms him and he strokes his cock to milk every last drop.

Kari watches, licking her lips, and waits until Jungkook collapses onto the bed before she makes her move. She leans in close as you slowly open your eyes, grateful Jungkook’s aim isn’t bad. 

Slowly, Kari licks the cum from your cheek. She giggles when you do, swallowing what’s in your mouth before you kiss her to share. Her moans are muffled by your lips, your body over hers when you push her to the floor gently. She cradles your face in her hands, moaning as you kiss and rub against her.

When you both pull apart, you’re panting. You smile at each other before crawling over to Jungkook. 

“Can we lick you clean?” you ask as you place your hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s eyes widen before he nods.

The two of you are gentle with him. You’re careful with your tongues, watching him for any discomfort as you lick his cock clean, kissing each other when you meet at the head of his dick. Jungkook smiles, the two of you are just too cute.

Once you’re done, you both climb on the bed. Jungkook scoots toward the end of the bed with you between him and Kari.

“We should clean up,” you state but end up yawning instead.

“We will,” Kari promises as she cuddles into your side. 

Jungkook hesitates but you drape your arm over his waist to keep him in place. 

“Stay here,” you murmur as you try your best not to fall asleep. Your body feels heavy, well-spent, and satiated.

“Okay,” Jungkook promises as you cuddle into him and he pulls the covers over the three of you. Kari smiles, her heart sinking only a little.

You’re spent after taking Jungkook’s fat cock and receiving several orgasms. You easily fall asleep between Jungkook and Kari, curled up in her chest while Jungkook’s arm drapes over your waist. 

Kari locks eyes with Jungkook, looking at you briefly to confirm you’re sleeping before she speaks.

“You better be good to her, Kook.”

Jungkook is taken aback. “What?”

“Be good to her. She’s liked you for as long as I can remember.”

“I thought the two of you…” Jungkook trails off as you stir but don’t wake.

Kari shakes her head. “No, I don’t do relationships, not the kind she wants. But I see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you.”

Jungkook nods, at a loss for words.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Kari.”

When you wake, you’re draped across Jungkook with Kari nowhere in sight and your heart crumbles a little. 

Jungkook wakes when you kiss his cheek and he smiles, pressing his lips to yours and everything fades away. Nothing matters but you and him, even if your heart aches just a little.

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube. 

[eds6ngel]

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part two

summary: with the christmas fayre coming up, alena offers for steve to help run your stall with you. but, how will alone time between the two of you affect your ever-growing feelings for one another?

if you aren’t caught up on the story, read part one here!

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. fluff. angst. robin being a matchmaker. slight age gap [r is 24, steve is 29]. r has a breakdown towards the end. more warnings in future chapters! [4.2k].

Can a teacher date a student’s parent?

Can a teacher and a parent be romantically involved?

Is it okay to have a crush on a student’s parent?

Hours upon hours spent searching the highs and lows of Yahoo! just to be met with the same answers.

Wouldn’t encourage.

Not advised.

No.

“What are you still doing up? You have kids to teach from 8am tomorrow,” your roommate Amy says, you peering at the clock on the wall, it reading 11:47PM.

You groan and bury your face in your hands, letting the inevitable frustration take over your soul, “I thought this new search engine was meant to be reliable? It keeps giving me the same damn answers.”

The sound of running water floods your senses, Amy taking on the task to tackle the growing pile of dishes you’d left rotting in the sink from your evening meal. “I mean, does that mean it’s unreliable? Or is it just not giving you the answer you desire?”

You slam your laptop lid shut, resting your head on top of the heavy, black outer, buzzing your lips, “Maybe, I’m not right about everything.”

“No one’s right about everything honey, that’s just life. You’re letting the self-doubt flood your mind again,” she reminds you, your mind racing about the situation at hand.

You lean back in your chair, Amy coming over and massaging your shoulders, “I think it’s time for you to get some sleep. Take your mind off of things.”

You let out a deep breath, one you weren’t even aware you were holding in, “Yeah, probably for the best.”

You leave your laptop on the kitchen table, raising from your seat and dragging yourself to your bedroom. Throwing on your pyjamas, you head to the bathroom to complete your nightly skincare routine. However, the silence of the small apartment made your thoughts worse. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way, had these same exact questions. Although, there was nothing for him to worry about. He didn’t have the price of his whole entire job at stake.

By your own research, you also stumbled across articles of “breaching confidentiality,” which made sense to you. If you became a mother figure for one of your students, it would destroy the power dynamic. And with not many teaching roles available around the area, you couldn’t lose your one opportunity. An opportunity that you actually enjoyed.

You flop onto your bed, snuggle yourself underneath the silken sheets and try to let your mind wander into a weird dream that could never be explained. You needed a break before seeing his face again tomorrow.

The next two months felt like torture. Seeing his beautiful face, those gorgeous brown curls every morning and afternoon just made your crush on him intensify. And not only that, but Alena was improving in Math. He listened to you. Not only was he an extremely attractive guy, but he was also an amazing dad. The most deadliest combination of them all.

And you would also be lying if you said if you didn’t spend at least a few times a week scouring the internet for the answer you wanted to your question. However, with every new response, it just directed you further away from your desired answer.

“Thank you for being such wonderful, respectful and kind students today! I’m proud of each and every one of you,” you say, a smile plastered on your face. “Now, as you all know, the Christmas Fayre is coming up next week! You have all been working so hard on forming your chocolate boxes. But, I will need a volunteer to help me run our stall, and that volunteer I was hoping for would be in the form of one of your guys’ parents! So, if you could be so kind as to ask them—”

However, your request is cut short by Alena’s hand shooting up in the air, her practically bouncing in her crossed-legged position, “Yes, Alena?”

“My daddy will help!” she beams.

If there was anyone you hoped wouldn’t offer, it would be her. But, how could you deny? She was a six-year-old kid, you couldn’t just tell her no because you couldn’t cope around her father who you also so happened to have a crush on.

“That’s very nice of you to offer Alena, but wouldn’t it be wise to ask your daddy first just to see whether he can make it?”

“Oh, I know he’s free!” she says straightforwardly, “He finishes work at 1 on a Friday, all he does for the afternoon is sit at home!”

“Okay,” you breathe out, clapping your hands together, “Stev— Alena’s daddy it is! Don’t worry the rest of you, it’s all sorted now! Now, who wants to go home?”

A chorus of “Me!” can be heard from the voices of the children sitting on the rug, you walking over to the window to check what parents had arrived, and sure enough, Steve was standing there patiently waiting. You can’t help but give him a small smile as he looks at you, waving his hand.

God, stop acting like a teenage girl.

You look down and compose yourself, calling over to Alena and Harry, his mom also there ready to collect him. Alena bumbles over to you, giggling away at nothing as she cheesily grins. “Okay honey, off you go. Have a great weekend!”

Steve is smiling as his daughter runs up to him, causing him to slightly stumble back as she races into his legs and hugs them tightly, “Good afternoon to you too Missus! How was your day?” he asks, grabbing her hand and leading her out to the school parking lot.

“Sooo good!” she jumps, “I got all my math problems right!”

“That’s great pumpkin! That extra homework really helped out, didn’t it? Miss. L/N is a genius!” he beams to his daughter, trying to hide the fact that he was just complimenting your intellect as a human being, rather than just in your profession.

“Uh huh! And then me and Timmy played Hopscotch and I won, of course,” she says sassily, putting her hand to her chest, making Steve laugh. He was proud she inherited his confidence in a positive way, he couldn’t bear to see his own family turn out the way he did in his schooling career.

“Oh, did you? Was Timmy just not up to your level? Doesn’t have that Harrington magic?”

“Nope!” she shouts, popping the ‘P,’ “And then I got ten out of ten in my spelling bee! And we got to do lots of drawing as it’s Friday and Miss. L/N lets us have lots of fun on a Friday!”

“Sounds like you had a very busy day then!” Steve says, lifting her into the front seat and putting her seatbelt on for her. Alena waits to answer, kicking her feet in her seat as Steve situates himself in the driver’s side.

“Yeah! And then at the end of the day, Miss. L/N talked about the Christmas Fayre and I said you could help her out!”

Steve almost chokes on his own spit, spluttering out, “You said that I could help?”

“Yeah! You always talk about how lonely you are on a Friday without me, so I thought you could help her out!”

“That’s very nice of you to offer sweet-cheeks, but I thought I was taking you around the Christmas Fayre next Friday? That way I wouldn’t be lonely without you!” Steve says, trying to find any way out of the inevitable trap his daughter had put him in. It’s not like she understood, how could he blame her?

“But Miss. L/N really needs help daddy. Pleaseeeee! Auntie Robin could take me instead and I would still see you.”

He knew she was right. But, he may have found his one-way ticket out of the task, “But, sweetie, Robin works until two on a Friday, remember? She may be too busy.” She better be fucking busy.

“Can you just ask her daddy? Pleaseeeee!” she drags out, Steve caving into his daughter’s cuteness.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs out, “But, just keep in mind she may say no, okay?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take her,” Robin smiles, Steve hearing the smirk in her tone through the receiver.

“Robin, that was a rhetorical question, I want you to say no. For the love of God say no,” Steve begs, knowing his best friend was fully aware of his crush on you. The countless hours of him both down the phone and in person rambling away about how beautiful you were, Robin soon picking up on the cues, and then her teasing him relentlessly about it was still going strong.

“Oh, poor Stevie can’t handle spending some time alone with his daughter’s teacher,” she whines dramatically, Steve rolling his eyes.

“I know you think you’re being funny Robin, but that is the exact mess I am in. How am I meant to stand there and run a fucking Christmas stall with her when she is the most gorgeous woman in the world?”

“You just gotta be yourself,” she laughs, telling him her signature advice, knowing that it has never helped him in the past.

“Stop with that bullshit Robin, you and I both know that neither of us have ever followed it,” he admits with a shake of his head, “Look, can’t you just say that you and Vickie have a date or something?”

“We’ve been together for eight years, Steve. You think we still plan weekly date nights? We’re almost thirty, you know,” Robin reminds him, the idea of the couple scheduling time out for romanticism seeming utterly ridiculous.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he complains, ignoring the fact that he was one year away from hitting thirty, “Right, I’m gonna call in Lena, just make up some excuse please, okay? She’s six, she’ll believe literally anything.”

“Fine,” Robin agrees, “Your loss dude.”

After Steve shouts Alena’s name, she comes running in, feet pattering against the wooden floor, “Auntie Robin is on the phone, she has something to tell you,” Steve says, passing the phone down to her smaller height.

“Hello?”

“Hi Auntie Robin!”

“Yeah?”

“Really?”

“Thank you!”

“Okay, byeee!”

Steve notices Alena’s pitch get higher as each word was spoken, her attitude getting happier and happier. Robin had definitely told her the truth.

As Alena passes the phone back, Steve quietly thanks her as she patters back to her bedroom, him raising the phone back to his ear, “You told her you could take her, didn’t you?”

“Uh huh!” Robin cheerfully replies.

Steve shakes his head in annoyance, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

After you had gotten all the kids with their parents, it was time for you to tackle setting up the stall. As previously told, Robin had collected Alena and Steve should be arriving any minute. The school had already set up the tables for every class, so all you had to do was transport the chocolate boxes over to your designated table.

A faint knock can be heard on your classroom door as you spin around, Steve standing there sheepishly, waving to you.

You giggle to yourself, “You can come in, you know? We’re technically out of hours, you don’t need to stand around like a lost puppy.”

He puts his hands up in defense, making his way over to you, “Nothing wrong with some good old fashioned manners.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” you smile, “Thank you for coming by the way, Alena was persistent on you being the parent to help out.”

“If you think she was persistent here, you should’ve heard her in my car that afternoon: ‘Daddy please help out Miss. L/N, she really needs it,’” he says in a baby voice, upping his pitch to match the tone of his mini-me.

You laugh at his impression, “She’s a character, that’s for sure,” you reply, before explaining the situation, “Okay, so the kids made a bunch of chocolate boxes. I’m gonna sell them for $1.50 a box purely for the array of brands. My bank account is currently punishing me, but that’s okay.”

“Wait, you bought all the chocolate yourself?” Steve queries.

You sigh, “Yeah, but it’s no problem, really. It was a great way of combining learning with fun. As you can see, all the outside boxes are decorated differently, so it was good to factor in their knowledge of shapes along with some artsy work.”

“You know, if you asked the parents, I would’ve happily chipped in with a few bars of Hershey’s,” he honestly admits, copying you as you begin to pick up some of the chocolate boxes.

You shake your head, heading out of your classroom and down towards the main hall, “Honestly, it’s nothing. That’s the kind of thing you sacrifice for being a teacher. We’re underpaid as it is, our wages not factoring in this entire classroom decoration business, so $10 worth of chocolate bars wasn’t breaking the bank too much. Actual Christmas shopping is the real breaker,” you softly laugh.

There it was again: that kindness. You would do anything for those kids, anything to make them happy, to allow them to enjoy school. Even if it meant dipping into your own savings. That was admirable.

You arrive at your designated table, “Okay, so just line them up in a way that makes them easy to see. No need for any fancy order or anything,” you explain, “There’s thirty boxes altogether, so don’t spread them too far apart. The table is pretty small after all.”

“You got it,” he replies, laying out the items on the red cloth-covered table, as do you, before you both walk back to the classroom and repeat your actions.

Once you have completed your task, you take a seat on the chairs that the staff had so kindly laid out for you beforehand. You breathe out, “Now time to relax.”

Steve checks the watch perched on his left wrist, “What time does this thing start again?”

“2:30,” you tell him, further adding, “I got lucky in the sense that I only had to lay out these boxes. I know other grades made snowmen and other decorations, or fourth grade did the classic antiques stall where they get the kids to bring in old or unused items from home. And then, of course, we have our lovely outside visitors who are doing the raffle, hook a duck, stuff like that. We also have to give the cafeteria staff enough time to prepare food since this is going on until 5pm. Oh, that reminds me, I bet Alena didn’t tell you how long this was on for!”

He smiles, thinking to himself how you cute you were when you rambled, “I think you forget it was on the flyer you gave out to the kids.”

You laugh in an embarrassed manner, hiding your face behind your hands, “Sorry. I genuinely forget that sometimes you are just a parent of one of my students. Like, as I’m talking to you right now, it just feels like I’m talking to a regular guy, you know?”

He softly chuckles, “I understand. I mean, I always feel like I’m just talking to a pretty girl instead of my daughter’s teacher.”

You become rendered speechless. Did he just say what you thought he said?

“You… You think I’m pretty?” you tenderly question, making sure you weren’t living inside of your own fantasy world.

Steve fumbles over his words, “I, um…” before he shakes his head, “What the hell am I lying for? Uh, yes. Yes I do think you look… pretty.” He looks down at his lap, twiddling his own thumbs as he awaits the ultimate rejection. You can’t just say that stuff to her, no matter how much it’s true.

You blush at his compliment, internally thanking yourself that you weren’t imagining his feelings back, “Thank you… You look handsome too.”

She’s just saying it to be nice. She’s just saying it to be nice. She’s just saying it to be nice.

“Um… Thanks.”

But, now that it was reciprocated, you began burying yourself into a deeper hole: the questions. The questions answered no. You can’t date him. You could lose everything. You couldn’t lose your job over a stupid boy. A handsome boy. A nice boy. A kind, sweet… caring boy. Could you?

An hour into the event and half the chocolate boxes were already sold. You had been doing the same stall for the past two years, the idea coming to you your first year of teaching after talking to another teacher about Christmas gifts. But, it had never sold this fast. Although, you noticed by the body language of some parents that Steve’s charm and looks were playing a major part in the quick selling. But, he had charmed you, so who were you to judge?

You were out of earshot and attending to another customer as Robin and Alena approached the stall, Alena shouting, “Daddy!” Steve’s facing lighting up with delight.

“Hey pumpkin! How’s it been so far?”

She giggles and bounces in her spot, “Soooo good! Robin got me some candyfloss and I had a hot chocolate. But, I got too excited and burnt my mouth. But, it didn’t hurt too much and I drank the whole thing!”

“The sugars definitely had an effect on someone, hasn’t it?” he says, lifting his eyebrows at Robin, giving her an accusatory look.

She scoffs at him, “Give her a break, it’s Christmas. Plus, I think we have better things to be talking about,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He sighs, “She already called me handsome because my big ass mouth couldn’t shut up and told her that she looks pretty right to her face,” he mentally facepalms himself.

Robin grins at him, “Well, that’s perfect!”

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, are you kidding?” she asks, “She complimented you back after you complimented her. She literally reciprocated back. Girls don’t do that for no reason.”

“Robin, you don’t even like men.”

She looks at him dumbfounded, “Straights and lesbians aren’t that different, you dingus. We still react the same way when it comes to someone who likes us.”

“Whatever you say,” he replies, trying to ignore his best friend’s advice.

“I’m just saying, give it a shot,” she says, “At least if you get rejected, you can move on. I’ve had enough of you love-dumping about her down the phone.”

“Hey,” he points a finger at her, “This is payback for when you wouldn’t shut up about Vickie in your senior year.”

“And we’re still happily in love eight years later, so who’s the real loser here, Harrington?”

He rolls his eyes at her, Robin copying his action as you become free from the previous customer, tending to Alena.

Steve licks his lips as he thinks to himself: God, maybe Robin is right. What else has he got left to lose? A million girls rejected him during and after high school, that’s only another one to add to the never-ending list, right?

The event ended a little later than expected, a remaining two chocolate boxes left for you and Steve to carry back to your classroom, leaving the pot of money on the table for the staff to collect and count up.

“Thank you for helping out, you don’t understand how grateful I am. It’s much easier to sell products when there’s two people doing the convincing,” you say with a soft laugh to your tone.

He buzzes his lips and waves his hand, “It’s nothing, trust me. I would’ve been doing nothing all afternoon if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “Alena told me that last Friday.”

“She did?” he asks with a smile, you nodding along, “The cheeky little shit.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that when she said it. Like, damn girl, really outing your father’s loneliness like that,” you laugh, “Kids are so brutally honest, I love it.”

“Yeah, Alena’s definitely a straightforward kid, that’s for sure.”

A delicate smile crosses your face as you lift up a chocolate box to him, “For you.”

He takes it out of your hands, questioning, “Are you sure? You don’t need them for anything else?”

You shake your head sadly, “No. All the school does with unsold items is keep them in storage until next year or throw them in the trash. So, for food like this, it’ll get put in the trash unfortunately.”

He sighs solemnly, “That’s kind of sad, if I’m being honest. Like, there’s kids crafts here. Why throw it away?”

“That’s what I’ve always said!” you quietly shout, your voice small enough to not disturb the silent atmosphere, yet loudly projecting to show your agreement, “Like, you only get so many memories of the children that pass through this school, why discard them as simply as that? It’s like they don’t appreciate the kids personalities and only see them as future employees.” You sigh whilst shaking your head, shoving the remaining chocolate box into your own bag, slinging it over your shoulder, “Anyway, I should get going home. I’m sure you wanna go and see Alena too.”

“Wait!” Steve yells, the word spilling out of his mouth before he has time to compose himself. Just you standing there, you looked so beautiful. Your eyes so soft as they look up at him, lips slightly parted as if you wanted to question him, yet you let him continue. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out, “Anything.”

Steve shakes his hands, trying to jitter the nerves out of his body. It was now or never.

“God… This is gonna sound so forward, and I’m sorry, but… Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

It was like a knife to the chest, you letting out a shaky breath as you clutched the binder and notebook in your arms, looking down at the floor as you swallowed. You really wanted to say yes. God, it was like a fire burning within you to say yes. But, you had to make a choice. This job was forever, who knew the long-term circumstances of the potential relationship? Was it really worth it to put your hard-earned degree in the background to focus on a love that might not even last?

And it’s not that you didn’t trust it to last, you had a feeling deep inside you that told you that he was the right person. But, there’s always the saying: Right person, wrong time.

“Steve, I… I can’t, I’m sorry,” you reply, trying not to let the tears fall as you explain your reasoning, “It’s not you, I promise it’s not, it’s just… confidentiality, you know? Because of Alena, if we became a couple, I could get accused of a lot of shit, potentially even lose my job. And I’ve worked a long time to get here, and I can’t be throwing it away for a relationship. I’m really sorry, but… Yeah, that’s why.”

You look up at him, his face telling that he was heartbroken, him wanting so desperately for the answer to be yes. He knew it, you were just being polite.

“Yeah, I get it,” he mumbles out, convinced that your reasoning was a cover up for your lack of attraction, “I get it…”

“Again, I’m sorr—”

He cuts you off, “It’s fine…”

You sigh out, “Well… I have to head home, it’s getting late,” you say, him nodding along, still not making any eye contact with you, “Have a good Christmas, Steve.”

“Yeah… You too,” he replies, you turning your back and heading out of your classroom, not returning for another two weeks.

You stormed out to the parking lot, the night sky covering over, the stars twinkling away as you throw your bag into the passenger seat. You slam your door shut, breathing out, the tears now falling down your cheeks as you hit your steering wheel forcefully, screaming out, “Stupid fucking bullshit rules!”

You pull your car out of park, reversing and steering out of the lot. You try to drive as carefully as you can, the rush of anger coursing through your blood making it extremely difficult to stick to the road safety rules you were taught at sixteen.

After arriving home five minutes earlier than normal, your bad energy keeping you slightly above the required speed limit, you unlock the front door to your apartment, Amy not expected to return home for another two hours.

You throw your keys and bag on the kitchen counter, grabbing your laptop and speeding to your room. You open up the lid and once again type in, ‘Can a teacher date a student’s parent?’

“Come on… Come on… Please, please!” you yell, your body shaking as you frantically search the web for the answer you so desperately require. There had to be some way around this. You couldn’t let this slip through your fingers.

Wouldn’t advise.

Strong discourage.

Do not do this.

Definitely no.

You scream as you throw your laptop away from you, crying out, “Just give me the fucking answer!”

But, that was the issue. That was the answer. No amount of wishful thinking would change that. You couldn’t date Steve Harrington.

everything got a little bit angsty towards the end, but that's what makes a good fic, right?

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 comment if you want to be added!!

→ next chapter.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

i am currently catching up on neon void, and it is a delight to read. your descriptions of leo’s mind is mesmerizing and grabs the reader’s attention so well. it’s very diverse and unique compared to other interpretations and fics♥️

i’m curious to know what your thinking process was like while writing leo’s insanity and his own thought processes.

(spoilers for ch11) the scene that stuck out to me the most was when leo was about to infect donnie. it felt so vulnerable and raw ahh

anyways i just want to dig into your mind a little to know how it works.

keep up the great work, you are doing wonderful.

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭 you are so sweet thank you!! 💙💗‼️and ohmigosh what a fun ask.

tbh i sat on this one for a while to think of how to dive into it-- beware of my (VERY) long ramblings below!

this question really got me Thinkin' and i kinda popped off but!! If i may indulge myself, here's sort of a wild explanation of how i approach Leo's Insane Brain for this specific fic:

does it meet R.I.S.E???

R - Realistic? I - Interesting? S - Silly? E - Existential?

R - Realistic

"How the hell do i make this sound realistic" is often an obstacle i run into. but it's also the Secret Sauce. What really gives the thought process direction. Given Leo's current situation, he's battling between what he wants and what he needs to do. Which is often a very real problem real people have. Exaggerating it helps create a fun back-and-forth dialog that can make his thoughts seem muddled.

With Leo in this fic’s setup, there are about five main key factors i rely on with his decision making:

Happiness The root of Leo’s general personification. He’s the guy who beat Krang One. The one who escaped a place worse than Hell. After years of missing home so much he’s FINALLY home. He’s drunk on happiness. He was finally home. And that relief and joy is what makes him so jubilant and goofy.

Awareness of his goal Though Rise Leo is a very funny dude, he's still a Leonardo. Throughout the series, Leo is the voice of reason when things are getting out of hand or are potentially dangerous. Leo's had nothing but time to think. Wishing what he'd done different. Wishing he had been more serious. After five years obsessing over his mistake and missing his family, the moment he see's the opportunity to make sure this never happens again he'll latch onto it. And when the stakes are high, accentuating that tension can help with frantic impact of his thinking.

His desire to see his family This desire often clashes with point number 2. Writing his internal struggle between the two helps with the “overwhelmed thoughts” vibe. It’s hard for him to choose! And he doesn’t wanna have to choose! Playing out the conflict between his 'want' vs his 'need to do' helps me bring out his nervous thinking process.

He's self-reprimanding thoughts We all love an Angsty Leo. It was hinted in the show that he had some self-esteem issues, but who doesn't love ramping it up to 11 for a fic??? That, and he was trapped with Krang this whole time. After hearing he was nothing but trash for five years PLUS the guilt of nearly ending the world, the guy doesn't exactly see himself in a great light you know? This can help clash with point 1, again helping with that 'what he wants' vs 'what he needs to do' inner conflict.

Instinct to Survive / Feral Tendencies This one is super fun. I love feral AUs/tropes. With little to no socialization in the Prison Dimension, Leo's sanity started to slip, leaving his body's natural instincts to become more profound. Plus, with the Krang Parasite, I like to exaggerate how feral/dangerous he could be outside of 'turtle' instincts. (Seeing that parasite hosts in the movie were very violent). Sprinkling in feral moments is just a delicious thrill I love adding, and it makes the insanity factor skyrocket and it's so fun to write 🩵🩵🩵

I - Interesting

Is Leo's thought process interesting to read??? Honestly, I just gun for what I think is the most interesting; Leo's relationship with his brothers (especially Raph), and the cause and effects of his shenanigans.

Also, I liked to experiment with wonky texts to help emphasize key moments or words to grab attention. Mostly because it feels like a fun surprise to read them in my opinion. Though not necessary in writing, I thought using some funky fonts might entice and excite 💙

S- Silly

THE BIG ONE!!! EVERYONE'S FAVORITE!!! 🎉🎊🥳🎉 Something I really love love love about Rise's style is that it's silly It's unique! It's fun! I love that Leo and the others are goofy and have some slap-stick moments. And I wanted to keep that with Leo despite everything. Plus, I ADORE that in this iteration of TMNT, the characters are such showmen. They are DRAMATIC. They are SILLY. And that's something I wanna celebrate!! Plus, as much as I love angst, writing nothing but pure angst is exhausting. (And I'm sure reading pure angst isn't enjoyably to everyone.) Throwing in Silly moments is like a little moment of refreshment to me 🩵

I also like to believe that Leo kept his sense of humor out of sheer SPITE. The 'wipe that stupid grin off your face' line in the movie really stuck with me. I feel like Leo would smile through his fear and still be a clown just to spite Krang One.

E - Existential

At the end of the day, Leo is dealing with a VERY big issue. I felt like the Rise movie did an excellent job portraying the severity of an alien invasion for the setting Rise had. And the weight of the situation would be too great for one person. And this is often what I refer back to to make Leo snap. A relapse in clarity of mind. A moment for the panic and PTSD to come back in full force and make him rely on his instincts. Usually the feral instincts he became more attuned with while fleeing/fighting Krang One. It also goes hand-in-hand with his awareness of his goal (as mentioned in 'Realistic' above).

And that's kinda a word-vomit of how it goes!! Honestly??? The tug-o-war between conflicting thoughts helps me write the madness in his head. It's been super fun and interesting, and I hope it's been fun to read!!! (Though I'm telling you now I will NOT be doing those floating text tables again OOF)

Thank you again for the ask it was super fun to think about ;w; 🩵‼️

[emry-stars-art]

YES, PLEASE AND THANK YOU @snazzy-jas-z-is-a-fan-of !!

(Find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕)

And I’ll do an art-only version of this post for your reblogging pleasure here :) there's always always more to be said about this so I might make another post on the same topic but later

Anyway onto the juicy stuff

Okay so. Evermore and Palmetto both have glove etiquette, but in Evermore Nathaniel never had to worry about it, because he was expected to constantly be wearing gloves from first day he’s able to after getting nasty scars on his hands. Except for when he’s working or helping Nathan work. The nobles and specifically Prince Riko made it clear that they had no desire to see how ugly his hands were. (This is also why he has a habit of wearing a little of his hair down on the left side; it helped cover the scars on his cheek that ruined his pretty complexion.)

Then he comes to Palmetto and Day introduces him to a whole new set of rules. Gloves are a common and important part of dress and fashion, but people are also able to decide whether or not to wear them at any given time. The only real rules on gloves are when not to wear them; you always take off gloves to eat or drink, and to offer your hand in greeting or service.

Nathaniel gets to kind of ease into it; he’s not around anyone important enough to need to offer proper greeting or help, so mostly he takes his gloves off to eat in the servants quarters, where he doesn’t deal with more than curious glances. There’s a lingering fear of letting anyone important see his hands, no matter what Day says to assure him otherwise.

Then Nathaniel becomes the prince’s guard. Nothing changes for a while - the prince has always been more self-sufficient than most - until one day Nathaniel sees the prince eyeing the fall from his horse. (Really Andrew is trying to get up the courage to dismount, because even if the fall isn’t actually an issue for him, his fear of heights sometimes catches up to him when dismounting horses.) Nathaniel understands by now that he’s allowed and expected to help, so he reaches out - and remembers. He’s also acutely aware that the prince hasn’t yet seen his hands, then also also acutely aware of how serious Day was about the proper etiquette, and slips off his glove. The prince gives his hand a curious look, but accepts the help and all but crushes Nathaniel’s hand in his as he finally makes the fall. Even on the ground, though, he doesn’t let go quickly. Instead, the prince’s thumb brushes once across the back of Abram’s hand and he turns his hold, pulling Nathaniel’s hand up to examine it. The only thing keeping Nathaniel in place is the bone-deep instinct that he isn’t to deny anyone, especially a prince. Maybe the prince would decide he didn’t actually want to see Nathaniel’s hands and Nathaniel could go back to wearing his gloves with little more than a strike to the cheek for making the prince look at them.

But the prince does no such thing. He drops Nathaniel’s hand and continues on as normal. Nathaniel does his best to do the same, but that’s probably the first kind skin to skin contact he’s had in years. He isn’t recovering as quickly as he imagines he should.

(Meanwhile Andrew was NOT about to let an opportunity to hold Nathaniel’s hand slip like that, and he finds that he doesn’t mind the roughness. Most other guards were pulled from a much more privileged crowd - usually who had some callouses or scratches at most. Nathaniel’s hands show Andrew that this one isn’t all bark and no bite. Andrew… really likes them.)

Gradually, Nathaniel (likely soon or now Abram) gets used to taking off his gloves. He doesn’t without reason, it takes him a while not to feel naked without them, but it only takes a few more instances for him to realize that the prince truly doesn’t mind his scars. Helping the prince from his horse becomes easy habit (GS isn’t necessarily tall, but neither is Andrew. No step stool = Abram’s help).

Maybe there’s even a few times Abram is completely gloveless when he’s around only Day or the prince. He finds himself hiding his hands subconsciously when he’s not thinking about it, but he’s never once told to cover up.

Then Abram is kidnapped, taken back to Evermore. All the same rules are enforced and more. In this case, gloves aren’t all that different or upsetting. That much is okay.

It’s when he gets back that things change. Since he’s blind for a while, he’s relying much more on touch and hearing. It’s also a good tactile reminder; if he were still in Evermore, he would never be bare handed. This is when he truly gets used to not wearing gloves. (During this time he’s also touched more gently and more often than ever in his life. Others’ bare hands on his naked skin to care for scars and rashes and fever, first Day and medics and then Day and Prince Andrew. Abram finally, finally realizes that this is what he’d been missing. He actually finds himself calmed and cared for in being touched.)

Even when his sight returns, Abram only wears gloves out of doors or to formal events. Slowly and so, so carefully, Andrew finds more small reasons to touch Abram’s hands, and Abram always finds rationalization to accept. Then Abram even leaves his gloves in his saddlebags or pockets when they go out.

Winter hits. Abram has very few burn scars on his hands, but even the simple knife scars can seize and ache in cold weather. By now Andrew is very attentive to Abram’s pain or discomfort, so he notices. Abram’s hands hurt.

So Andrew buys him new gloves, lined with soft, warm fur. Abram is both pleased and disappointed - pleased because any gift from Andrew is a good gift, and disappointed because the prince expects him to wear gloves again. But the first time Andrew sees Abram wearing them indoors, he says easily, “They’re to keep your hands from the cold. Wear them only as much as you need.” (Because, again; he’s not going to admit it, but he loves Abram’s hands.)

It probably takes a long time for Abram to get accustomed to much more touch. He likes holding the prince’s hand, he’s used to that this far into their courting, but anywhere else with anything more than clinical intent - sometimes including with clinical intent - he gets overwhelmed very easily.

Andrew is careful with him. Like we mentioned in the last post, Andrew’s had about six to eight years longer to get readjusted to wanting and touching; Abram is essentially starting fresh. It’s a lot for him to handle.

(Don’t worry, though, I promise they figure it out. Just like they always do, in every universe, for all of our mental health.)

[starillusion13]

My Princess

Pairing : Bandit! San x Princess! reader

Genre: Pirate Au, Fluff, S2L, Royal

W.C: 4k

Warnings: Nothing, just don't follow a stranger like in the story coz everybody is not going to be a San in your life.

Request from: @vvshere

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @yeoobin @anyamaris @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames

Note: Thanks for joining the event and loving my works. I love interaction so please do tell me how you all like my works.

*under the cut*

Being a princess has never been a peaceful and wonderful life for you. Commoners may have dreamt to have a life like you in the way they have imagined but never actually got to know how exactly you are living your life. Wearing a heavy long princess gown with corsets which sometimes make you feel like dying out of lack of breathing. The feeling is similar to being inside the four walls of the castle every day. You are not allowed to go out in the public because according to the king, your life is always at the stake of risk and the bandits out there may use any opportunity as their only chance.

Bandits! You heard about this from the guards and the king and sometimes you saw the scared faces of some maids when mentioning about them. You don’t know how even they look or what actually they are but as far as you got to know from these people, they are the criminals of the town rather the whole kingdom keeps their wealth and jewels protected from the bandits. So, as you are a curious little being who has a new adventure in her life now to get to know more about these bandits and at any cost you want to encounter with one. You don’t know how or will it be okay after this or not but you have made yourself determined to get out of the castle.

With all the courage and self-enthusiasm, at midnight you disguised yourself as one of the maids to get away from the castle. The maid who helped you in this situation is very much close with you since your childhood as your mother never cared for you and always busy with herself and your brother and this never bothered you because the maid always accompanied you in every possible way. The king has always neglected your presence inside the castle but never let you go outside. If he does not like you then why not letting you to be yourself? Oh! It’s just because he wants you to get married to the neighbourhood kingdom and he needs to maintain a proper image for that for his benefit.

“Will you be really safe?” you are looking around the dark backyard garden to see whether any possible being is aware of your acts when you heard someone beside you is concerned.

With a smile and confidence radiating self, you turned to your side “Of course. Its not like anyone can recognise me as no one in general knows me or have seen me that much to be recognisable in this state.”

“I am not worrying for you to coming face to face with any commoner.”

Your restless self replies quickly, “Then why are you worried? If am not any royal member then nothing worse can happen.”

“Stay away from Bandits and Pirates. They are not the types to be a part of your adventures.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I would be so careless to get myself into any trouble with them. I just want to get to know the outer world and who are these people whom people are so afraid of.” Giving her a smile of assurance, you picked up your tote bag and adjusted it in your hands. The bag has few necessary items which can be needed for you few days stay in the village.

“I will manage everything here. Just be safe out there.” You nodded on her words and followed the dark pebbled way towards the forest.

————

Your senses hit with a foreign feeling of being out from the walls of castle. You feel like having escaped a cage and now you can spread your wings of freedom. If only I had wings, I could have fly away long ago! If only it was a daytime so that could make the surrounding seem wide and bright to give the feeling of being freed. Looking around during midnight, it seems like an endless dark place with mysteries beyond the paths.

You are excited to be finally on your little adventure but deep down, there is a fear of worst situations that you might have to face.  

You tried to recall the path the maid has described to you and following that you have to turn to your left to enter the east sector of the village where you can stay for as long as you want without anyone being conspicuous because al lot of sailors and other kingdoms visitors stay here. Well, the most advantageous would be able to see bandits and pirates. You just have to pretend that you are searching for a work here and that’s it.

“Ouch!” How the hell did I just trip? Bending down, you caressed the ankle where it is paining like somebody has cut off the feet.

“I told you I heard somebody was here.” A deep voice echoed in the silent atmosphere of the forest and you are just thrilled when you recognised it as a male’s voice.

Another voice spoke up from the same direction, “Hmmm….. and that’s why I came along with you.”

The rustling sounds nearing your form making you panic in your place and you are not able to process of what to do then.

You took one step forward when someone holds your upper arm to yank you around. The person is not properly visible to you except those eyes which are bright due to the lantern in his other hand holding at the face level. His eyes are shining like lost diamonds in the dark forest and anytime those bandits would come look for it.

“What are you doing here?” This voice sounds like the first one you heard before.

“I- I am here just….” You can’t think of any excuse when you know very well what you have to tell in such situations. The grip on your arm is really strong and you are wiggling your hand to let you go. Only if he tried to do this in the castle, he would have been dead in no time.

“Who are you? What are you even doing here at this hour?” The second person made his presence known to you when coming beside the previous male.

You gathered a little courage to handle the situation a bit, “I’m from the other side of this village and I have lost my way so I was going towards the main sector of this side of the village for a night stay.”

The man let go of your arm and moved aside when the other one comes in front of you. He also has a lantern in his hand but his eyes are very piercing and the way they are scanning your face as if he can reveal your original identity. You feel conscious on this thought and pulls your scarf to cover your face. He holds your wrist preventing you from your act and started dragging you towards the direction where you were supposed to go.

“What the hell are you doing? Leave my hand. Where are you taking me to?” Is this the end? Are you really going to die? Or something worse? No no you have to run before this man decides to do anything with you. Your thin white silk gown is not helping the night cold and the pain in your ankle is becoming worse.

“Do you have a place to live tonight?” His sudden question made you stop fighting against him and your other still busy adjusting the bag on your shoulder from slipping for him pulling you.

“…..no but I can manage on my own.”

“I can see how you can do that probably becoming the meal of any wild animals or getting kidnapped by some sailors to trade you off to a different country.”

“Trade me? Is this even possible as the king- “you are really going to get caught at this point when you are just about to reveal your original identity.

“Do you think that king even care for any commoner? He doesn’t even care for his own daughter.”

“How do you know about his daughter?” You asked him on seeing his confidence on commenting about the relation between the king and his daughter. To some point it is true that he does not even care for you but maybe he would have done something in this sort of situation.

“Do you think he care for you?” He is staring at you directly into your eyes and for a second you thought he directs the question to you as if he knows you are the daughter.

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. See! no one has any confidence to agree with that the king care for anyone.” He started to walk towards where he was taking you before, your hand still in his firm grip and the other man beside you still busy looking around the place.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To give you a place for tonight and to change your mind on your decision.”

“How can I trust you? And what decision are you referring to?”

He completely ignores your query and spoke to the other male, “Yeosang! Tell captain that we are having a guest on our ship and maybe we have to discuss on some matters later at night.” The latter eyed you for a moment and walks away.

“Captain? You…you are a pirate then…..Are you going to sell me to those sailors?” you wanted to encounter those pirates or bandits but not like this during night when you don’t have anywhere to run for your safety and also not on the same night when you ran away from the castle. Your shaky pupils where tears are threatened to fall looking at the man pulling you.

His piercing eyes turn towards you for a precise moment to read your expression, “I know you are afraid of me but am not a…..pirate. You can trust me and please follow me quietly because I don’t want others to know about our presence out here or we both will be in danger.”

Coming to the main sector of the village, you can see the surroundings a bit more clearly because of the lights coming from different sources around you both and then when you notice this man. This man is a stranger dressed up in a white loose shirt inside with a beige-colored fringe coat and a half sleeved brown leather jacket and a light brown velvet pants. The street is enough lit to take in the surroundings and you smile a bit to be finally walking between the common life environment but to your dismay, you are with a pirate or someone like that.

“Are you cold?” A concern wrapped around his words.

“Huh?… oh…no it’s okay.”

“Hold on. We will reach there soon and then I will give you something warm.”

You remained quiet as to why he is caring for you that much. Your gaze fall to where he is holding your hand then look up to the back of his head and then when you notice the red streaks in his black hairs. Those red streaks are mysteriously highlighting like the way his actions are mysteriously too nice towards you.

“Why are you helping me? Are you really same like how you are showing yourself to me right now?”

He didn’t say a word but increased his speed and you followed him quietly. You literally don’t care if anything happens to you because to you this is an adventure and you want to experience it any way possible atleast everything seems better to you than being within the four walls of your room.

You can hear the waves hitting the shore because of high tide and the smell of wet ground hitting your nose calming your panicked self. A smile appeared on your face and the same moment he turns to you but you were busy looking at the sea. Even though the place is dark but the sound of the sea shore and the silence of the dark night is giving you comfort. You feel like to be the free soul in this outside world and just want to run beyond the horizon. A tear rolls down your eyes and before you can wipe it off, a somewhat rough finger slide through your cheek.

“Don’t waste your tears on such silly things.” You made a ‘tsch’ sound on his remark.

“What?”

“You don’t know how I am feeling right now.”

He pulled you towards a ship, the only ship docked at the shore. You both walked towards the wooden gangway which leads to the plank of the ship. He helped you get into the ship and then when you reached the deck. You can hear some faint voices from a small room situated in the middle to your left and to your right, the man is settling down some boxes. You are looking around the ship as this is your first time being on a ship and also on a pirate ship. The ship has damp and sea shell smell, to people maybe this is disgusting but to you this is a smell of a momentary freedom.

“What’s your name?” you asked him when you settled down your bag on a wooden drum.

He looks at you and down to your leg and you followed his gaze and hen you realized that he is looking at the bruised portion. The bright lantern on the ship making the presence lively and visible to each other. You both looked up at the same time and made an eye contact.

“San.”

“Hmm…thanks for your help, San. I don’t know if I’m safe with you here or not but for the time being am experiencing a lot of new aspects of life.”

“Sit there on the stool beside you. I will bring some patches for your ankle.”

“Its okay. I will go to any medic in the morning.”

He didn’t listen to you and walked away towards a door where you could hear faint voices of males coming. Oh gosh! There are so many men all around me and I don’t even know how to fight. The worst is that if the king find me here in this situation, I would be dead before these pirates change their mind from helping me to killing me. You were so lost in thoughts that you didn’t someone is standing before you.

“Are you worrying about your adventure?”

“Huh?” you are confused on his words. Adventure? He is not probable referring to your original plan. Right? Or maybe he is.

He bends down and sit on his knees to match your sitting form on a stool. He lifts your leg and then you stopped him by holding his wrist.

“I can do it myself.”

“You really think life is so easy everywhere.”

“Why? I just told you I can apply those patches on my wound.”

“You don’t know how to handle wounds from animal traps so let me do it.” He is right as you never applied cream on your simple cuts and always your maid was there to guide you on everything. But being a commoner, they know how to handle these.

“maybe….”

When he was applying the cream, you noticed a wooden opera glass stuck to the band on his waist and then it struck your mind that the maids always used to say how they heard a dangerous bandit always carry this.

“Are you a bandit?” He looks up to meet your scared eyes and again his gaze returned to your ankle where he was done patching up.

“Yes. My brothers are pirates and one of them is a medic whom you saw earlier and am a bandit.”

You abruptly stood up and a pain shoot your legs making you stumble in your place. He helped you balance your form but you yank him away.

“Don’t do this. Sit down or the pain will become worse.”

“You all are dangerous people surrounding me and how can I just think of a wound right now.”

“We are not always dangerous.”

“You all rob and kill people. How can I believe that you are not lying?”

He paused before coming closer to you and staring with raised eyebrows, “The way am believing you that you were in the forest only because you had lost your path.”

“What are you even saying?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know that you are lying to me all this time.”

“I a-am not ly-lying.”

He chuckles, “sure.”

“I am telling you everything truly.”

“Let’s go inside, the night is too cold and you are just wearing a scarf and a thin gown. I’m sure princesses don’t stay out at night for too long.”

“Princess?” your shocked eyes didn’t even try to hide your expression on his words.

“Are you not the princess Y/N?” you are stunned how he pronounced your name dearly with remark princess.

“How do you know?”

“Let’s head inside then we can talk about it.”

Hearing yourself to be called a princess, the feeling of suffocation returned back to you and now you don’t even want to go anywhere confined other than being under the bright full moon and vast sky with an endless night sea surrounding where you can smell the freedom.

You look up towards the moon, “I don’t want to go inside.” The moon is visible through between the mast and crownest.

“Do you want to go up there?”

“Where?” He points towards the crownest.

Your pleading eyes asked “Can I?”

He nodded and then when he helped you climb up a rope stairs. Your fourth attempt made it a success to finally reach there. The wind is giving a fresh and unconfined feel to you.

You grinned on this feeling, forgetting all worries about your escaping the palace and encountered a bandit with whom you are experiencing the air of freedom. It can be possible if he kills you up here where not a single being of the ship can be aware of his deeds and maybe get all your golds and money from your bag.

“It’s beautiful right?”

“Yes!” You turn to your side to see him already looking at you. His piercing eyes looking like a flashing edge of a knife under the moonlight. The more you are seeing him, you are curious of what a bandit do or how they are different from others. They are humans like you but how come people are afraid of them when they are like this.

“Why were you alone in the forest?”

“How do you know me being a princess?”

You both asked on the same time. He nodded and looked away towards the moon and then he spoke up.

“I know everything about you.”

“How?”

“When someone wants to do something, the person tries to do it but when it comes to someone’s desire then the person can go beyond his limits to do it. The bandits always have passionate desires in them.”

“Your desire was to know about me?”

“No the king?” he looks back to you.

“Why?”

“The king never let the commoners follow the old rules which your grandfather had settled and it leads to a lot of business problems among the sailors and the commoners and also to the pirates. We once went to a meeting with the king and then when I saw you.”

He paused for a moment, “that day you were with a maid and you both seemed so close and then the days of my stay inside the place, I always followed you without you being aware of me and then when I got to know everything about you. You already know how bandits can get every detail about something and I don’t know why but I wanted you to get away from that place.”

“Why didn’t you just abduct me from the palace? I could have freed long ago.”

“I couldn’t n’t because the easy suspects would have been us if they get to know that you getting kidnapped is followed by the disappearance of our ship from the port.”

“You kill people so what if you kidnap someone.”

“We just kill who is a threat to kingdom but I agree with us robbing people. We just rob rich sailors and kingdoms for us.”

“So, you are not that dangerous like how I have heard.”

“Like not all princesses are happy in their palace.”

“Hm…”

“Do you want to go away with us. With me?” He turns his body to face you and then takes your hand in his to give you a little smile.

“You will get caught.”

“No one knows we are here in this village. We had to get something and so me and Yeosang went there when on our way of return, you stumbled in our way.”

“……”

“Do you want to be freed forever?”

Your gaze admires the way his warm hand holds your cold hands and then look towards the moon, “I want to be that moon who is dancing and shining brightly among the ocean of stars. You are a bandit who always look forward to the journeys beyond the horizon with your captain and brothers. But me….”

“What about you?” you look back to your hands.

“I never got anything, nowhere where I can be myself other than being a princess and following the royals within those four walls.”

He hugged you. This hug is a simple welcoming hug but to you this is the most precious feelings for getting warmth from someone. No one ever hugged you this way and no one even offered to help you even when there is a risk of others getting caught but he is willing to give you everything you want.

“But how did you know that it was me in the forest?”

“No one would be in that area coming from other side of the village other than the people from palace coming from backyard as I know the way. Also, the moment I saw your face I was confirmed.”

You gasped, “you were going to rob us?” You look up to him.

He is smiling down, “Remember I told I had to get something. It was an important thing to captain which the king had taken away.”

“oh!”

“So, do you want to be the princess of the sea?”

“Will you be with me on this journey?”

His one hand caressed your cheek and the orbs deeply staring at you, “I will take you beyond the horizon just to keep you away from the kingdom. I will never let a shadow fall on you to make you feel confined.”

“Thank you…..San.”

“So princess, lets start our journey?”

“Its Y/N not princess anymore.”

“You are my princess. The princess of my sea, Y/N.”

You smiled on his endearment and kissed him on the cheek and quickly hold the railing of the crownest to face the sea and closed your eyes to feel the breeze blowing. You felt some one back hugged you and rest his head against yours. You smiled to yourself, the adventure is no more how you did expected but it’s a lot more interesting than it could have been otherwise.

“Please let me prove that bandits can be good to their princess.”

“You have already proved me and I must say that I trust you the most.”

The crackling dawn in the sky promising a golden ray of hope in the horizon marking your journey towards the princess of the sea. Maybe, the stories of bandits were more scary than encountering one in real life.

[shiny-jr]

[[Damnation!Au(I think that's the name?) Reader on Jamil's and Kalim's story kept reminding me of these quotes for some reason]]((Note: Here where I live Jafar's parrot name is Iago, im not sure if it's the same where you live so I hope this makes sense))

Kalim: I lost Iago!reader...

Jamil: How did you LOSE Iago!Reader?!

Kalim: To be fair, they are very small.

.

Kalim: Jamil’s amazing at concentrating. Once he starts reading, the only way he'll notice you is if you take his book away. Not even if you hit him or shake him!

Iago!Reader: That was him ignoring you...

.

Jamil, to Iago!Reader: If you see Kalim, give them this message *makes a neutral face* He'll know what it means.

*Later that day*

Iago!Reader: Oh, and Jamil said to give you a message! *makes a neutral face*

Kalim: Oh no. The neutral face of displeasure!

.

Iago!Reader: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?

Jamil: Kalim, probably.

.

Jamil: I don't like bugs. Kalim, are you even listening to me?

Kalim: ...I seem to have misplaced my ant farm.

Jamil, at Iago!Reader: 😦

Gonna use this opportunity to mention some fun little facts and tidbits about ParrotMC, or as you refer to them as, IagoMC. Going by order of the quotes you gave. I'm currently just writing down whatever comes to mind so yeah.

They wouldn't necessarily lose this MC, it's just that they wander off frequently whenever the opportunity presents itself. What this MC is up to? Something they're not supposed to be doing, no doubt.

MC knows that Jamil doesn't like Kalim, and MC isn't afraid to tell him how it is. The only thing is, they refrain a lot of the time, because they don't want to raise alarms or make Kalim aware of Jamil's true malicious intentions. Of course, MC refrains primarily for their own self interests.

Jamil and MC get along surprisingly well, but maybe it's because MC keeps up the facade of being his old lackey. They'll openly make jabs at each other, but they'll also make jabs at Kalim when he isn't around. That often gets the vizier to crack a smile, and very occasionally even laugh.

Extending off that last part, MC will make jabs at Jamil. They'll point out and insults things from his appearance, to his personality, to his fears, and everything else MC notices. Although it seems harsh, Jamil does the same, and MC quickly learns what not to say. Just as MC notices things about Jamil, Jamil observes much more about MC.

[rarepears]

Xin Mo woke up, at least as much as a sword could wake up. This was rather surprising to the sword, as it had spent thousands of years accumulating enough energy to become somewhat sapient, only for its first true life experience to be its destruction at the hands of its last wielder and his husband. New as it was to being an individual, Xin Mo felt surprisingly ambivalent about the event, especially since it currently seemed to not be destroyed at all.

With what little awareness a spiritual sword has, it was able to examine its surroundings and found them familiar. The cavern it was currently sitting in, blade sunken into the dark obsidian rock, was where it had rested for the centuries between its final wielder and the one who came before him. Checking its internal sense of time, Xin Mo found it to be somewhat out of tune, as it seemed to have moved a number of decades back into the past. It wasn’t bothered — it was a sword and not some simple mortal who had to deal with curses such as ageing and boredom — as it could use this time it had been granted to figure out what went wrong.

Xin Mo, before becoming aware, had taken a rather simple approach to its wielders. Like all beings of the Abyss, those who wielded it would always seek to become stronger than their enemies and to reproduce. Xin Mo merely helped them achieve those goals, pushing them along if necessary, and then eventually they’d push to far, and it would eat their soul in exchange. A fair deal for the power it granted, Xin Mo thought. Its last wielder though… he had been different. It had pushed him on the path each wielder eventually followed, but he had ultimately rejected it, and then destroyed it. Clearly a different approach was needed, Xin Mo decided with its newfound self-awareness.

Xin Mo waited patiently for its wielder, as the years went by. Perhaps its sense of time had been knocked off by its destruction and subsequent displacement through time, but it seemed as if he took longer to find it this time. It didn’t really matter to it at the time, but when his old wielder finally drew him from that dark cave, Xin Mo realised something was different. This wielder was similar to its former one… but not the same. This one was weaker, angrier, and without the driving hope and desire he had had before. As it lay in his hands while he took a rare break to rest his body, it took the opportunity to slip through his mind and memories.

The difference was clear almost immediately — this version of its wielder lacked love, the ever-present thoughts of his future husband absent. Well then, Xin Mo would just have to change that, to give its wielder a happy ending — and hopefully avoid its own fate of destruction.

(aka: Xin Mo transmigrates into PIDW and decides to make BingJiu canon)

What is this masterpiece and what is it doing in my ask of all places :0

I love this! I want more! The set up is SO GOOD. Xin Mo is going to drive Luo Binghe crazy... for Shen Jiu! It's great! There's nothing like a matchmaker that one can never escape from!

The fact that Xin Mo was lodged into a stone is giving me King Author vibes. Only the true wielder can pull it out of stone! And then Shen Jiu can be a pillow princess.

[More in #Xin Mo transmigrates into PIDW and decides to make BingJiu canon AU]

[starsillys]

MASSIVE YAP WARNING!!!

getting this out here so I don’t for get later because the tamagotchi au is fresh on my mind and I forgot to elaborate further (I can yap for hours on end)

Kinito was the first created out of the three and was admired by a certain somebody quite a lot,,, he was a beloved character, so much in fact a silly secret guy basically decided to make his oc real and put a lot of efforts and time and lots of passion into creating this tamagotchi by scratch,, like doing the programming and assimilation and stuff,, so you can imagine the massive disappointment when his friend suddenly started bugging out quite frequently and eventually had just. Stopped working for a long while afterwards! Heart broken and stupid, unable to find the cause for this (something silly like. He like. Slightly dislocated a wire after dropping it or something causing it to constantly just have a blank screen by accident and he was unaware of this.. idk I never had a tamagotchi bfore guys I don’t know how they wor’k) he sold the gotchi as it over time became just. A sad memory for him yknow. Anyway Kinito was still very much on. He was awake and aware during this time of accidental abandonment. He just didn’t know the SILLY reasoning behind why his creator and supposed best friend had just left him aside to collect dust,, all alone,,, with no interaction for years,,, and he couldn’t really come out just as yet because after all that time he still had faith. He believed his friend would come back to him. That he wasn’t forgotten and just needed to wait! No need to come out. What if he was busy? What if he just didn’t had time right now? no need to come out, friend will come back so just stay inside. [spoiled once he was being sold like years later is when he actually finally came to the terms that he had indeed been given up on, and had purposely became inactive everytime you (y/n) after purchase tried to interact by feeding or playing with him via the tamagotchi mini games because he was still like. Horribly devastated. Still going through grief but overtime became more grown to his new friend, you!! Because despite how many times he’s refused to go along with any of the activities you tried to do with him, you never really stopped and gave him hope of some sorts that you won’t really be too quick to give up on him as easily! So he kind of took it as a new opportunity to start new,, and now being a bit more expressive of his needs for attention and care, rather than just waiting for you to do it for him whenever it is convenient for you, he will let you know when he needs something one way or another; being more confident with this new friendship to even going so far as to literally come out of the screen! Wowaz!

also side note. Ummmrrr,, kinito was always a very self aware/conscious entity. Like even during development, while he wasn’t rlly all there to process things and what they meant,, he was always conscious and listening. He’s basically one of those guys who had literally remembered everything since like the day of birth. You know those guys with crazy memory. Never forgets anything. so,, m mmm playing into a personal headcanon his creator who shall go unnamed wink wink nudge nudge is kind of a silly goofy guy,, a lil silly,, who likes to talk a lot even when alone,, ummm,,, Kinito picked up on everything dude. Like he was yess yess mhm I agree and listening silent and supportively. Listening to everything his friend was saying. Admiring his creativity and knowledge with what ideas he’d blurt out or how he’d talk to himself when he’d work. He especially loved the idea his creator would constantly talk about regarding the creation other digital entities(fish oc) Kinito loved this idea because it would mean he’d have friends of his own to interact with, since he figured he couldn’t directly so much with his creator, unfortunately. He would listen and observe the sketches or hear about the ideas and early concepts of jade and sam. He absolutely adored his friends, despite not ever meeting them before.