in a concrete room

Criminal

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
◊ Summary: As a rogue werewolf, you knew the dangers of trespassing into a pack’s territory, but that didn’t stop you.
◊ Genre: smut, werewolf AU
◊ Warnings: sexual content
◊ Word Count: 4,904 

A/N: Okay wow. So this took me 300 years to write, but I finally finished it! This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and it’s also my first smut scenario. Tagging @chokemejimin because you wanted to read it and @kookingtae because we screamed about this together lmao. Hope you enjoyed!


You hadn't planned on getting caught. You had hoped for the exact opposite, actually.

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2

Thank you for your lovely comments, darlings!!! I hope you like what I did with your prompts!! Enjoy!!! <3

Warning: Hot make-outs, smutty mentions, cute Bughead galore and just me fawning over the bae that is Cole Sprouse. 


“We have to go.” Kiss

“Hmm, in a second.” Kiss

“One day – kiss – we’ll get caught – kiss – and they’ll definitely expel us.” Hard Kiss.

“Oh, I’d love to see you, Betty Cooper – kiss – getting expelled over a steamy make out.” Bite.

Betty just let a breathless laugh, alternating the angle of her head and dropped her arms to his shoulders, crossing them by the wrists behind his head. Jughead’s smile grew more in delight against her lips and he dove in again, pecking her lips hard. They were in one of the dusty storage rooms of their high school, the smallest one and the one with no windows, exploring this new-found feeling of being in love and being a couple, mist old broken chairs and random school supplies. Betty was perched up on an unused desk that lay against the wall, dressed for her cheerleading practice in her usual white and yellow t-shirt and dark blue shorts, while her boyfriend was standing deliciously between her gorgeous legs, school bag, denim jacket and beanie abandoned somewhere on the floor, kissing her like there was no tomorrow for God knows how long now.

That was basically they daily routine. Ever since the two of them overcame their irrational fears of rejection and possible heartbreak and talked with each other about that kiss that held all of Jughead’s suppressed emotions all those years, they couldn’t overlook their mutual feeling of desiring to be together. Three weeks had passed since that day and, despite of the new challenges they were faced with every day, regarding their unconventional families and the amorality that seemed to emerge every once in a while of the core of their small town, the two teens were basking in the afterglow of their romance with affectionate gestures and heated make outs. The only cloud shading their Romeo and Juliet fairytale was that everything was being done in shadows, like a good, concealed secret.

They wanted to tell people; and they would do it. They weren’t afraid or ashamed, both emotions equally unfair to the wonderful union that it was them. They just wanted to do it in their own terms, without excited friends or controlling parents getting in their way, without having to explain themselves or put labels and boundaries in something that came and kept growing natural to them. So, janitor’s closets and storage rooms it was.

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Ok So

You mentioned that you wanted to know more about majors like engineering to get a feel for how the Fair Folk would interact with them. I have no idea if this is useful on that front, but, there’s a thing in Canada called The Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer. There’s a ceremony when you graduate with your degree, with the ritual words all written out by a poet, and you swear to have humility and take responsibility in your work, and are given an iron ring to wear on the pinky finger of your dominant hand. The ring has flat facets, so it will scrape across a page as you write or draw, to remind you you are wearing it. Optionally, a ring can be passed down from a mentor to a student.

The practice was started after a catastrophic collapse of a railway bridge due to a failure of oversight - something the engineers should have noticed, but overlooked. At the heart of it is a promise and an understanding that the work an engineer does - as dry and technical and by-the-book as it sometimes seems - holds human lives in balance. It is the work of taking scientific discovery and carving it into something useful, building out of all these separate pieces the accomplishments that change the world. There is a rush to having that kind of power, to holding the scope of human accomplishment in your hands. But you have to be careful. To not promise more than you can safely deliver, or pay a price.

I think there is something there that would be very appealing to the fae, though also terrifying to them, as these are the people who build fire and iron into every part of the world and make it inhospitable to them. The parallel of temptation and fear is so strong that the text of the ceremony could be a pledge to avoid deals with the fae literally without changing a word: the first line of the pledge is “I, [name], in the presence of these my betters and my equals in my Calling, bind myself upon my Honour and Cold Iron, that … I will not henceforward suffer or pass… Bad Workmanship or Faulty Material in aught that concerns my works before mankind as an Engineer, or in my dealings with my own Soul before my Maker.”

A deal with the fae is nothing if not shoddy workmanship.

[a note - this is really mostly about structural and mechanical engineering. Skyscrapers and airplanes and bridges so long they have to bend to follow the curve of the Earth. Other kinds of engineering - electrical and chemical and bio and nanotech and so on - have different things going on.

And there is also the lightheartedness, the endless bureaucracy and contradictory regulations, the desperate light-night coffee-fueled fighting with a 3D printer that only squiggles out incomprehensible plastic monstrosities. There are the weird moments of the unreal hanging around daily life, like the way a layer of ordinary blue masking tape on the tray helps the 3D print go smoothly. Or the odd regulations in the safety codes that make you wonder if this system was even designed by humans. The person in the computer lab who untangles your desperate mess of a spreadsheet without even saying a full sentence to you. Or even the way so many experiments have to be run at night and underground - even if you know it’s because of background vibrations, it still feels a little bit magic.]

(Plover)


Thank you so much! This is exactly the kind of thing I meant - I had absolutely no idea and it would have been such a terrible missed opportunity to write anything about engineering without knowing things like this! (Also wow this is as much a love letter to engineering as canadianwheatpirates’s piece about statistics, and just as beautiful)

So - engineers are concerned above all else with the real, with the concrete and logical. There’s room in it for the fantastic, absolutely, for the beautiful, even; things that seem to defy what should be. But at the heart of it it’s iron and fire, like you said above - break it down, piece by piece, and you’ve got something constructed painstakingly from the bottom up by people aware of the weight this holds in every sense of the word. There’s no room in that for magic, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that magic has less than no value here.

(But of course, being drawn to the incomprehensible is not solely a human trait.)