#and last year she said: he had more soul in his pinky than all of us combined

[septembersghost]

was looking at presley's insta and the first thing i clicked on was this:

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Csr9vaGJmmy/?igshid=YmM0MjE2YWMzOA==

the first lyrics r so elvis inspired i love it sm!!

ahhhh i love this! it never ever stops astonishing me how powerful his presence continues to be in music and as an inspiration to other artists, it's such a vibrant way to keep love for him alive. 💖

#chelsea and i were talking about tribute songs the other night #because i looked up wynonna judd's cover of burning love and came up with a song she wrote inspired by him instead #called sometimes i feel like elvis #and last year she said: he had more soul in his pinky than all of us combined #what particularly moves me is how an overwhelming majority of songs about him or reflecting on and capturing him #are written/performed by women #and even current artists (lana/phoebe/florence/gaga/miley/etc etc) referencing him and being influenced by him and dedicating lyrics to him #of course it makes sense presley would given her name!!! #i just love it so much...he's still with us because he's so influential and remembered #anonymous #letterbox #i was a dreamer

[enam3l]

Your writing skills are pure gold. I literally ate your rockstar Eddie posts.

Maybe the next step could be the tour and y/n accompanying Eddie as much as she can. Both living the tour life? And how about a spontaneous wedding when they have a show in Las Vegas? Nothing is more rockstar than a wedding in Las Vegas!

thank you so much!! so Eddie and y/n don't get married until 94 and that fic is coming - don't you worry. but your wish is my command! this is a bonus fic. a huge thank you for 500+ followers. thank you for enjoying everything and being a part of this story.

half the world away (rockstar eddie munson x reader) 4k / fluff / smut / slight angst

a direct follow up to rockstar eddie munson is gonna get the girl and god help anyone who stops him you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist!

Corroded Coffin’s first nationwide tour for their debut album started in New York with a full house. It started the precedent that Corroded Coffin were the must see band of 1989, it's also where you and Eddie parted ways. Much to Eddie’s despair, your work whilst flexible, couldn't allow you to chase your boyfriend round the country in a tour bus. Between weeping tears and desperate kisses, you said goodbye before Eddie got onto the bus, departing New York to complete the East Coast leg of the tour – leaving you behind. For a month you would be apart, only rejoining him in October for the West Coast dates. It was the longest you'd ever been apart since meeting earlier that year in February. Since confessing you were in love with each other over the summer, you could admit your heart ached without him, like part of your soul left on the tour bus with him. Ultimately you were pleased and proud, despite the boys insistence it was okay, you knew this was their first tour and they needed to experience it just the four of them without you crashing. Gareth had pinky promised to look after him and he had.

Before every gig, no matter the time zone, Eddie would call and you'd run through a pre-show ritual you'd developed over the weeks. Before you could ask anything, Eddie  would insist on knowing every detail he was missing; what happened at work that day, what you ate and how you slept. As if he wasn't the one living the adventure. Then in return  he’d recap the night before, how their journey had been, what his review of this city was and what the guys plans for the set were. Tonight’s show was Texas before the band took a week break in California then making their way through the west coast, curving over the top of the country and ending up in Indiana again. You were supposed to meet Eddie in California in a weeks time but some sweet talking to your boss found you on the plane from New York to Austin, Texas. The past month you'd been meeting deadlines early in hopes you could persuade your work to let you finish early and using the California offices before following Eddie on the last leg of the tour. In the months you'd been together you'd discovered one thing; Eddie would do anything for you and loved surprising you. Whether it be as simple as keeping your favourite snacks stocked to cancelling his whole schedule to nurse you when you had tonsillitis to surprising you with your favourite flowers. For once, you wanted to be the one surprising. It had been hard to keep your lips sealed as you heard the broken turn in his voice over the phone when he confessed how much he missed you. It was nearly impossible during last nights phone call when he said he’d call you tomorrow, to not burst into giggles and say he wouldn't need to call. 

Eddie was pacing anxiously as he dialled your number for the fifth time only to again be met with torturous rings. He was cursing himself for not having another way of contacting you, for never getting your work or neighbours number incase of emergency. He felt sick, he had heard your voice twice a day for the last thirty-two days, it's what kept him calm everytime he realised he was on tour and all these people were paying to see him. Your soothing voice was the only thing that helped him feel grounded. He was frantic now, rambling round backstage begging anyone to point him in the direction of another phone incase the one he'd been using was faulty. On his third phone he decided this wasn't technical errors - you weren't there. Eddie stared at the phone as the dead line hummed, the jarring noice only adding to his nausea. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them he liked. 

Were you okay? Had there been an accident? Did you forget? Were you angry at him? 

Eddie hadn't been pushy with the calls, every night he reassured you it was okay if you had plans and couldn't make the call but so far you had everytime without fail. Even when you'd been out you'd found a phone behind the bar, easily charming any staff into letting you use it to call your long distance sweetheart. 

The rest of Corroded Coffin watched anxiously at Eddie’s panicked ranting. They knew exactly why you weren't answering but they'd been sworn to secrecy and didn't want to ruin a surprise that he'd be grateful for in two hours time. Once it was show time Eddie felt awful knowing these fans had used their hard earned money to see him, he'd been there before, saving every penny to see his idols. But instead he could barely hear the music or the audience cheers, all he could picture was you hurt: hit by a taxi, fallen down the stairs, mugged, murdered, somewhere alone and in trouble when he should be there to protect you. There was also another horrifying possibility that nagged at Eddie, despite knowing you'd never believe anything, he couldn't help but fret Carla or someone like her had fed you something to make you angry at him. Eddie is grateful the set list had stayed the same, drilled into him so much that playing was instinctual and any mistakes were hidden by the other guys who could see him chewing his lip out the corner of their eyes. By the time the gig has finished, he's running off stage. Shouting a ‘Sorry man!’ at the roadie he just hurled his guitar at. Gareth is quick on his heels, not wanting him to go awol and miss the surprise. Luckily Eddie is back at the phone, rapidly punching in your number before chewing his nails as he's met again with taunting rings. Gareth carefully approaches, careful not to spook his friend. 

‘Hey bro… I'm sure there's a totally reasonable explanation. Why don't we head back to the bus?’ He attempts to carefully guide Eddie towards the exit but he digs his heavy boots into the ground. 

‘No Gareth! You don't understand! Something is wrong, I know it. I gotta keep trying!’

Gareth sighs, attempting a new tactic. 

‘Well if you get on the bus, you can get to the hotel where you can dial to your hearts content from the room. Right?’ 

Eddie nods his head letting his now red nails find his mouth again as he allows Gareth to tug him along. The rambling continues all the way to the bus door and Gareth is thankful you're not actually in trouble because he's not sure he could cope listening to the improbable situations falling out of Eddie’s mouth such as ‘rats are getting really fucking big in New York now man. What if one got her? What if it came up the fire escape?’ 

They're in the living area of the bus when Eddie tries to double back and return to the venue, 

‘Fuck!’ He whelps, 'shit, I should've called Marissa. Got her to go round and check on y/n. Fuck I gotta go call now!’ 

Gareth swoops round to barricade the door, attempting to block the exit of his friend who towers over him. 

‘Good god man!’ Gareth cries, ‘just go check you've got all your stuff in the room and then we’ll get you to the hotel. There you can call Marissa, the mayor, fuck me, we can even call President Bush and see if he can track her down. 

Eddie groans, scowling at Gareth as he opens the door to the bedroom area. He's puzzled to see a smirk spread over Gareth's face before leaving the bus completely. Brow furrowed, Eddie turns to face into the bedroom and his hand drops from the handle. 

There you are, perfect and in one piece, just as Eddie left you in New York. Your sat on his bunk wearing a new Corroded Coffin t-shirt from the tour and somehow looking more ethereal than ever. Eddie bounds over to you, the force of his steps and the leap onto the bed causing the bus to shake. You're in fits at giggles over his eagerness, Eddie’s face immediately burying his face into the crook of your neck. He's completely flattened you with his chest whilst he straddles you and you can feel wetness on your neck. Eddie looks up at you his hands grasping either side of your head, stroking back your hair and you can see tears escaping his big brown eyes. 

'You're here…’ he barely whispers. 

You smile at your sweet boy, your hands now brushing back his curls and fringe so you can take in the face you missed so much. 

‘Yeah, Eds. I’m here baby.’ 

Slowly the shock and overwhelming emotion leaves his face, replaced by his most smitten grin. He dives back into your neck, smothering all exposed skin in kisses between his confessions. 

‘I…missed…you…so…much…sweetheart…I can't… believe…you're really…here!’ His kisses and curls tickle you. 

‘I missed you too baby. I never even went back to my apartment. Just stayed in yours, needed to be surrounded by all your Eddie-ness.’ 

He's beaming at your sentimentalism until he remembers the panic he was in just minutes ago. Eddie’s face turns into a childish sulk and he begins to bat at you gently for worrying him. 

‘Hey!’ You gasp, ‘what the hells that about!’

‘You scared me! I was so worried! Missed our call! I thought something happened to you’ Eddie moans and you can tell by the look in his eyes how genuinely worried he was. You pull him down to your chest and press kisses to his head.

‘Oh, Eds… I'm so sorry. I didn't think. But I'm here now, yeah? We’re back together now. I needed to see you, couldn't wait any longer.’ 

Eddie peaks up at you and nods and whispers, 'thank you baby, the best surprise I ever got,’ a dark look comes over his eyes and a smirk appears, ‘wish you'd worn nothing but a bow though.’

Later when you arrive at the hotel, Eddie is dragging you to the room. The second you're through the door he's throwing your bags down, manhandling you and throwing you on the bed before crawling on top of you. Your hands roam his body, desperate to reacquaint how he feels under your touch. Eddie’s eyes are closed in complete bliss as you lean up to kiss him. Instantly your lips melt together, craving to taste each other again. You're both desperate as your tongues meet, eager to get as close as possible. You bite Eddie’s lip as you pull yourself apart to catch your breath. 

‘God, I love you,’ he pants. 

'I love you too Eds.’ 

For a while you just look at each other, taking in every little detail of the other that you've missed as hands trail over bodies. 

'Shall we get into bed?’ you sigh contentedly. Eddie nods. 

Eddie’s breath hitches as you appear from the bathroom wearing nothing but a smile. 

‘No pjs sweetheart?’

You shake your head. 'Don't think they'd be staying on long,’ you purr. 

A groan leaves Eddie’s throat and his hands grab for you. 

‘Get. Here. Now.’ 

There's no need for him to persuade you, you're skipping over and straddling him immediately. Every part of you has ached for every part of him for over a month. His lips at immediately on your chest, dotting kisses over your breasts and his fingers run over the curves of your body. You sigh blissfully, feeling relaxed finally now your skin is touching. 

‘Need you Eddie.’

He murmurs in agreement, feeling the growing wetness from your folds through the thin fabric of his boxers. In return you can feel his aching hardness. 

‘Going to fuck your girl good, baby? Like I'm your favourite groupie?’ You chuckle. 

Eddie looks up and the look in his eye makes your heart stop, he looks serious but his chocolate eyes full of so much adoration. 

‘No sweetheart. I'm going to make love to you, make you feel how much I've needed you with me this whole time.’ 

A gasp escapes your lips as he carefully flips you over so you're lying down and he hovers above. Lips reuniting in a deep passionate kiss, inhaling the other. Your fingers pull at his waistband and Eddie sighs as his throbbing cock is freed and you sigh at the sensation of your bodies completely bare against each other. Without realising, you're pushing your hips up to feel his length against you, both of you mewling at the friction. 

Foreheads pressed against each other as you both whimper as you grind against each other. Wetness covering Eddie’s length as he slides between your folds, catching your clit as he makes each movement.

‘Need-need you inside Ed’ you pant. Eddie tries to compose himself so he can form words. 

‘Not… not yet sweetheart. I just - I really need to taste my girl, okay? It's been so long.’ 

You can only nod as he litters kisses down your sternum, between your breasts, your stomach where he licks a stripe down to your belly button and then continues his kisses until he reaches your mound. Eddie doesn't care, he can't resist burying his nose into your triangle of curls. Inhaling your most natural smell, it's soothing, it's like home. It makes you giggle slightly, endeared at how blissed his face is. Your giggle is stifled as your mouth turns into an ‘O’ as Eddie quickly buries his mouth this time into your folds. His wide tongue lapping you with one broad swipe, his face blissed at the taste of you. Then his mouth finds your clit, suckling it causing your head to fall back against the pillows. The sensation alone nearly unravelling a months worth of pent up sexual frustration. Eddie brings his thumb to replace his lips over your bud as he watches the way your hands seek out your breast, pinching your nipples. He sees how hard you're trying to keep your head up so you can look at him. But regardless of how overwhelming the pleasure is, it's hard to look at Eddie when he's like this, his big eyes dark and sparkling with primal lust and love. Your mouth is agape and your eyelids fluttering as he continues to rub your clit whilst fingers circle your entrance. 

'You're so beautiful like this,’ he croons, 'I can't believe somehow I make you feel like this.’

Your hand reaches to caress his face, you're sure he's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. 

‘Eddie… no one has ever made me feel like this. No one ever will. My pretty boy.’

The nickname makes him moan and reattach his lips to your clit as he slides a finger inside you. You can see how he's started to rut against the bed and you're longing to make him feel good too. Struggling to speak you manage to whimper out 

‘I-I need you… inside b-but it's been a month. Need you to warm me up.’ 

Eddie freezes and looks up at you, his pupils now fully dilated. 

‘A month? Sweetheart… have you not touched yourself since I left?’

You bite your lip, a little embarrassed as you shake your head. 

‘No. Wanted to wait for you… it's not the same now I know how it feels with you.’

Eddie isn't sure whether to cum right then and there or cry over how much you need him so he settles with making his girl feel amazing. He slides another finger inside, scissoring them to ready you for his thick cock. 

‘Fuck, baby. I don't know what I ever did to get you.’ 

He fastens his fingers inside you as he returns to sucking your clit. Once he feels your fingertips begin to dig into his scalp and hears how loud your pussy is getting for him, then he knows you're ready. 

Eddie comes back up, arms propping him above you. Your mouths meet and you can taste yourself on his tongue, it only makes you more desperate to feel him inside you. You're longing for the closeness and reuniting of your bodies that can only come with feeling his cock within you. 

‘Please, please, I need you inside me,’ you beg now. 

Eddie spreads your legs further and guides his cock to your entrance. Both of you watch where you finally merge as one. Both moaning at the euphoria of your bodies finally joining again. You cradle each other's faces as he begins to thrust into you, tantalisingly slow. You look at each other adoringly, eyes filled with so much love. 

'Nothing compares to you sweetheart,’ Eddie pants. 

Eddie takes your thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position allows Eddie to bury deep inside you. The feeling is overwhelming filling and you love it, knowing you're physically unable to get closer to him. His movements remain luxuriously drawn out, his tip dragging past your sweet spot each time. You're only left with the ability to mewl, mouth agape. He begins to fasten feeling the way your walls clench him, making his balls clench in return. You reach out to pull him forward, giving you access to kiss and suck his pulse point in his neck causing him to keen your name. But your movement some how manages to bring him even deeper inside you and it makes your body freeze in shock and pleasure. 

‘Oh god, Eds… I need you to cum there. Deep. Inside’ you gasp. 

His pace fastens but remains as hard, ensuring he completely fills you.'Christ yeah okay baby, god I can feel how full of me you are… look at your belly.’

And he's right, as Eddie hits the deepest he can, your belly bulges with his cock and it makes you whine knowing he's completely taken over your body and heart. The pair of you struggle to look away, only doing so because Eddie's quickening pace has your head falling back. 

‘I don't think I can last much longer sweet boy, it's too good,’ you're practically whining. 

‘Me neither baby, missed fucking you so much.’ 

Eddie brings his hand now to rub at your clit and your stomach tightens instantly, your thighs clenching his neck. The noises you make are pornographic and drive Eddie wilder, near folding you in half so he can steal away the noises with a kiss. You make your walls pulse around him to edge him further and it leaves you mouth moaning into each other's open mouths. 

'I'm gonna cum Ed,’ you cry, ‘I love you so fucking much.’

He grunts, ‘fuck. Sweetheart say it again please.’ 

He's thrusting now deep and sloppily, his thumb pressing fast circles into your swollen clit. 

‘I love you I love you Eddie,’ you wail as your climax hits you harder than ever before. Your legs spasm round his neck and your fingers tighten round his biceps. 

'Jesus fuck I love you too y/n,’ he gasps as he says your name, his cum spurting deep inside you. He shudders and another rope fills your walls. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, exhausted after finally spending the cum he'd also been saving for you. You both pant as you brush away his fringe from his eyes. Both of your eyes and drooping, completely fucked out. After a while, he attempts to move but you stop him. He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

‘I… I need you to stay inside me. I've missed you so much… just need to stay close.’ Eddie’s heart melts at your need for him, he tucks your wild hair behind your ear before pressing a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. 

'Of course. Anything for you, sweetheart.’ 

Carefully, he rolls you both over so you're on your sides. One of your legs hooked around his waist, allowing him to stay inside you. Both of your eyes begin to close and his cock softens inside you. Relaxed for the first time in a month now you're reunited, you both fall asleep, bodies intwined. 

Everyone can't help but notice how the tour improves drastically with your presence. Eddie has never played better in his life knowing you're metres away, eyes full of awe and pride at your boyfriends talent. The way you fit perfectly into his life like this only adds to the lingering feeling you're meant to spend your lives together. Every night watches how you chatter with the roadies, always offering help, how you make sure the band has always eaten and are feeling good, how you point out shy fans to Eddie and how you love being immersed in the after parties. No bitterness resides you after the Carla situation, the usual girls who follow their shows respect you and apologies for her behaviour. Eddie’s heart melts at the sight of you tipsy and mouthing along to his songs. Then at parties how you fawn over him chatting every bartender and security guards ear off about how the guitarist is your man. That along with the t-shirt you'd shamelessly produced that read ‘PROPERTY OF THE LEAD GUITARIST’, Eddie has never felt so supported, so loved in all his life. 

The tour bus had been upgraded with a mattress on the floor for Eddie. He insisted on taking it whilst you took the bottom bunk it was placed alongside. Both your lip reading skills developed rapidly so you could continue to talk to each other long into the night without disturbing the other guys. Unable to fall asleep in each other's arms like you'd both prefer, you found yourselves drifting off; your hand dangling over the edge of the bed so Eddie could hold it all night. More often than not you woke up fingers still intertwined unless Eddie had sneakily pulled you out of your bed overnight so he could feel your full weight on top of him. The guys were deeply grateful for not having sex in the bus so it resulted in you and Eddie getting creative with locations for the few weeks you were on tour. Bathrooms and dressing rooms across the country were marked by you both. Praying the pulsating speakers covered the noises of your moans and Eddie’s balls slapping against you as he bent you over sinks and sofas or propped you up against bathroom stall walls. Eddie insisted he played better knowing his cum was dripping out of you backstage or that you were struggling to stand, legs still trembling after having his face buried in your core. 

The final show was in Indiana and butterflies filled you both, knowing the last time he played here is when he met you. It was the most meaningful show of the tour. Neither of you needing to say a word as your hands gripped thinking about it. You went into the crowd to meet the whole gang who'd travelled into the city for the gig. Eddie played like a man possessed, his eyes unable to part from yours the whole time as you stood with everyone he loved most at the barriers in front of the stage. Seven months ago he was performing here in Indiana, not knowing the person he'd spend the rest of his life with was there and now you're stood in front of him, beaming and bopping around. Eddie wonders if this is heaven, convinced this is the greatest sight in the world, watching you carefree and excited just from watching him do what he loves. He watches your face turn to confusion as during the encore he starts with some unfamiliar notes. It's a new song, your song. Eddie wrote it whilst longing for your presence on the first half of the tour. Tears well as you realise this song is describing you. Steve, Dustin and Robin grin seeing the love between the pair of you, thrilled their meddling resulted in their friend getting the love he deserves. As Eddie reaches his solo you mouth 'I love you.’

Never taking his eyes off you, he mouths back 'I love you too, always.’ 

Eddie can't imagine playing music now without you by his side. The two things that saved him. 

#enam3l asks #enam3ls rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson × fem!reader #eddie munson × reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #munson headcanons #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #rockstar!eddie munson #enam3l x eddie #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader

[love-overdrive]

Knocking on Heaven's Door

Summary: Mary insists on having Koichi take her to see her old acquaintance, Rohan Kishibe. Rohan, however, is less than thrilled to see his "rival" at his door.

Pairing: Rohan Kishibe x F!OC

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~2.9k

Notes: Reunion? Kinda? Rohan is an ass, Koichi is stuck like the poor kid between arguing parents. Both Mary and Rohan are delusional morons, please forgive them <3

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post future works <3!

“Do I know you?” Rohan asked drabbly, an irritated look on his face as he was once again interrupted from his work with a knock at the door. 

“Well, yeah, Mr. Kishibe, we have met before!” She eagerly replied to his question. Koichi figured it was only natural they have seen each other previously as he stood beside Mary. Rohan hummed then tapped his chin in thought until he snapped his fingers. Mangakas must have seen-

“Oh. A fan, right?” Rohan dismissively said, making Koichi and Mary jolt in surprise. “Hm… let’s see, was it during my tour in the north? Or my appearance at that con last year?” 

“What? No. Mr. Kishibe, come on, it’s me!” Mary pleaded, hoping for him to remember her. 

“You’re not a fan? Then what are you doing here?” Rohan narrowed his eyes, not pleased to be away from his desk any longer. 

“Wait, I am a fan but- ugh, not like that! You seriously don’t remember me?” Koichi grimaced as Mary looked to be deflated from her earlier excitement to see Rohan again. Koichi thought that, from how highly and affectionately Mary spoke of Rohan, that they had a close relationship. 

However, Rohan was rolling his eyes and about to slam the door shut on them. “I guess not. I only remember those worthy of being remembered.” 

Mary let out an offended gasp. “What? What the hell are you talking about?” 

Koichi hadn’t heard Mary get so aggressive before, while Rohan seemed to not care at all. “Exactly what I said. Now, tell me your name and state your business, or I’ll just assume that you are here to waste my time.” 

“I’m Mary. Mary Yazawa. You know, creator of Nina, and stuff?” Mary introduced herself awkwardly, hoping this would jog his memory. 

“Hm, Nina, I can’t say I-” just as he said that, his face dropped and he let out an angered gasp. “You!” 

Both Mary and Koichi leaned back in confusion when Rohan pointed at Mary as if she were the devil herself. “Y-yes?” 

“You dare show yourself to me like this? Don’t think you’re anywhere near good enough to breathe the same air as me!” 

“Why are you getting so angry at me, huh? I just wanted to see you again!” Mary folded her arms. 

“Oh, no, no, no, I know what you’re up to! The great Rohan Kishibe doesn’t need some talentless hack to visit him.” 

“Talentless hack? You’re so rude!” 

“It’s simply the truth. I guess they just let anyone publish anything nowadays, huh?” 

Mary glared at him. “You know what? Ixnay on this visit! I was just happy to see an old friend here!” 

“Friend? Please, you wish you could be my friend. Or did you simply think meeting me here would allow my genius to rub off on you and make your manga worth a damn?” Rohan said with a haughty smirk. 

“My manga is perfectly fine, thank you very much!” 

“And that’s what separates us two, you’re happy releasing mediocre and serviceable work under the pretense of it being ‘fine’. I, however, aim to excel and achieve greatness by surpassing all else.” 

“You sure excel at being an asshole!” Mary shouted back. 

Koichi stared in horror as the two mangakas continued to bicker back and forth. Rohan tried to keep his pompous air up, but the more Mary argued with him, the more his mask was slipping. Was Mary really certain they were friends? This didn’t seem like how friends acted. Or even professionals, for that matter. 

“I have more talent in my pinkie than you do in your entire body!” Rohan childishly yelled, practically cheek to cheek with Mary. 

“I put way more heart and soul into my work! You're just a soulless jerk!” 

“Soulless?! At least I don’t need to publish my manga in English to boost my sales!”

“What about it? They love my work!”

“That’s because they have no taste! What is so hard to understand about a stupid romance?” 

“It’s not just a romance, you idiot!” 

Koichi looked at his two heroes, eyes flicking between them as they traded even worse and more personal insults. 

“Yeah? Well your hair is ugly! Tell your stylist to give you a refund!” 

“Says the man whose hair looks like toothpaste!” 

“Screw you! You’d never understand the-“

“The what? The fact you choose to look like a tube of Crest every day?” 

“I’ll have you know, my grandmother-“ 

“Guys! Stop it!” Koichi screamed, attempting to push them both away from each other. Mary huffed and dusted herself off. 

“I’m sorry, Koichi. Mr. Kishibe just seems to be a real character.” 

“Hmph,” Rohan seemed to feel the same as he fixed his hair. “I’m sorry as well for losing my cool against a half-rate ‘mangaka’.” 

Koichi deadpanned. “Rohan…” 

Rohan rolled his eyes and sighed, folding his arms. “Fine. Sorry, to uh, whatever your name was.” 

“Rohan!” 

Rohan rolled his eyes again and sighed even louder. “Sorry, Miss Yazawa.” 

“Fine. Apology accepted. Mind telling me what that was all about?” She furrowed her brows at him, now curious about the reason for his hostility. 

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself. You know very well the reason for our mutual dislike of one another.” 

“What? No, I’m actually really confused!” 

“You need me to spell it our for you, huh? Or are you simply pretending to be daft to attempt to mock me?” Rohan dramatically said. Koichi looked at Mary curiously, but she only shrugged, seeming just as lost as Koichi was. “Well, if you need such a reminder, it all starts back on the day we first met!” 

Mary, of course, remembered that day. Koichi knew about it after Mary gushed with stars in her eyes about how a young Rohan had bumped into her after a meeting with her editors. He had accidentally picked up some of her drafts that had fallen on the ground, and looked through them. Mary had said it must have been fate, that the handsome young man was the one to give her better tips and advice to make sure her work got published. That didn’t really sound like Rohan, but Koichi nodded along, thinking the story at least made him sound somewhat nice. He was certain, though, that past Mary’s rose-tinted glasses, Rohan probably said a few insults that were sprinkled with genuine criticism and promptly walked away. 

That sounded more like Rohan. But even still, he didn’t see how Rohan could view that day as a sign of disrespect or mutual dislike. 

Rohan placed a hand on his hips and pointed an accusatory finger at Mary. “That day… that day you scorned me and ignored my very existence, I’ve always had it out for you! You think you could dismiss me and look down on me? Please, the only reason you are close to beating me in sales is because Viz published your manga in English! Otherwise, you’d be so far behind!” 

“I don’t think you two are on the same page…” Koichi mumbled. Even if Rohan was an ass, he didn’t see why Mary of all people would ignore him for no reason. And why was she saying the nicest things about him before while he assumed she was ignoring him? 

“I am on the correct page,” Rohan argued. “It is her who started this feud, and it is I who will end it!” 

“I didn’t even know we were in a feud,” Mary casually stated, resting her chin between her thumb and index. “I never ignored you, by the way. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. Are you mistaking me for someone else?” 

“I do not have you mistaken! You must be a complete airhead to forget that day!” 

“Alright, then what happened that day?” Mary challenged. Koichi leaned in closer to hear Rohan’s explanation. 

“Fine. Since you really are ignorant, allow me to enlighten you. It all started the day of the award ceremony. I had, of course, just won the ‘Best New Shounen’ award, and you had won the ‘Best New Shoujo’ award. My editor, for some reason, said it would be good for me to congratulate you. I went up to you, and you didn’t even spare me a glance! You kept looking away and mumbling under your breath, then left without even saying ‘thank you’! I wanted your damn manga cut, but somehow, you still have a job!” 

“Eh…?” Mary gave a dumb smile as she listened to Rohan. “But that wasn’t-” 

“What, going to insist that you did nothing wrong? Tell me I was mistaken again? I know what you are, Miss Yazawa! And I won’t stand for someone like you attempting to feel superior over me!” 

Koichi nervously chuckled and waved to get their eyes. “I think I understand the issue here.” 

Both mangakas looked at him, Mary with a hopeful look and Rohan with a stern glare. He gulped, feeling their attention on him. Both of them wanted an explanation for their frankly one-sided rivalry. 

“Well? Go on and tell us,” Rohan urged. 

“Don’t be so rude to him,” Mary countered. Koichi shook his head. 

“I think you two had a different idea of your first meeting with each other.” 

“And that would be?” 

“Mary went on and on about how nice you were and helped her before her manga was published. You think she snubbed you and ignored you during the award show. Both can’t be true, unless you forgot about your actual first meeting, Rohan,” Koichi fumbled to explain. 

“What? No. We met at the award show,” Rohan retorted. “I would know, I was wearing my white Versace shoes that night. And I only wear it on special occasions.” 

“No, we met outside the halls of Shueisha. We bumped into each other, remember?” 

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Rohan dismissively said. “Why would I talk to someone I bumped into?” 

“You did!” Mary cried and then covered her cheeks with her hands. “You picked up my manuscript from the floor!” 

It was like magic, that moment! Our fingers touched, and you were in your simple white pants and shirt. I looked into your green eyes and knew I was destined to meet you! You had a serious expression on your face- that real cool-guy type of look! The kind of look that said ‘hey, I’m the best around.’ And like, you so were! Everyone was fawning over your new manga, and the fact you looked at me and even talked to me was incredible!

For that moment, I understood what it was like to be at the center of attention. You had that smooth and relaxing voice that I wanted to melt into. Your voice, it was so soft, but your words- they were so harsh! You looked at me with that smolder and told me my work had potential but I was squandering it. You, the genius mangaka, was telling me I had potential? My heart soared! I thought I should cry about it, but how could I when you looked at me with those beautiful eyes? 

I almost thought I died that day and went to heaven. When you gave me back my manuscript and told me to do it again, I totally knew I had what it took to succeed! And thanks to your words of (dis)couragement, I have been a shoujo sensation! 

Rohan raised a brow at Mary’s flushed face. “Is this normal?” 

Koichi pursed his lips and nodded at Rohan. “Yeah…” 

“Hmph, well, regardless, I clearly remember us meeting at that award ceremony.” 

Now, we already established I was in my white Versace shoes. They need no introduction. By the way, this award show was for my second award- Pink Dark Boy truly is a masterpiece that I have cultivated from my very being. The sales figures did not lie, and the ratings from the readers of Shounen Jump proved I was a legend in the making. And now, my work has amassed me great fortune and fame- none of which I care for since I am writing to be read. Pink Dark Boy must continue for as long as I, Rohan Kishibe, continue! Until my very last breath, I shall- 

Wait, wait, off topic. The award show, right. Yeah. Kyoka had insisted I ‘make friends’ with that girl that won. I don’t really need friends, because none surely will ever come close to my level. And second off, why would I want to congratulate that girl? I read a page of her work, and while there was potential, I found it too slow. There was no hook. I mean, what is the hook to a premise like ‘two women with the name Nina accidentally meet on a train’? Am I missing something? I bet I could go on a train right now and find about three women with the name ‘Naomi’. That’s not really anything special, that’s just statistics. 

Agh. Again. Well, I was gonna just go give her a quick congratulations, yet when I walked up to her, she covered her mouth and nose! What kind of rude person does that? Was she trying to imply I smelled? I can assure you, I do not, not after I have sprayed my Calvin Klein Eternity cologne! Rude. And then when I went to shake her hand, she took a few steps back and refused to look me in the eyes! 

That, I can assure you, is a declaration of war! I was about to pity her and give a half-hearted congratulations, but her insistence on snubbing me and insulting both my appearance and work is unforgivable! If she wishes to act superior to me, then I will make sure she knows she was sorely mistaken to have crossed me! Ever since then, I have been laughing away at the sales numbers with my morning coffee. I will make sure she understands she does not have what it takes to best me! 

“W-wait, you really have been looking at my sales numbers?” Mary gasped, her eyes widened as she covered her mouth. 

“Heh, obviously. Since you turned down my offering of praise, I have checked our sales numbers to compare it many times. And what do you know, even with your numbers on Viz from this quarter, you still have not caught up to me!” Rohan triumphantly leaned his head back. 

“Really? I’m… wow, the fact you took the time to look at my numbers is so… it’s so touching you’ve been keeping an eye on my growth!” Mary grinned in shock.

“Of course. You can rest easy now knowing I’ve seen your progress, and cannot wait to crush you further,” Rohan chuckled back. 

Koichi’s jaw dropped as his eyes darted between the smug Rohan and the bashful Mary. 

“W-what? But you two aren’t saying the same thing! I-I think you guys are on different planets right now!” He shouted, but the two mangakas seemed to be focused on each other. Rohan pointed again at Mary and smirked. 

“Let it be known, just because we are in the same town, I still don’t forgive you. I will be keeping a close eye on you. You better give me something worthwhile to surpass, Miss Yazawa,” he stated, although Koichi noticed Rohan’s pompous words seemed to have a bit of eagerness in them. Was he seriously insulting her to do better so he could ‘win’ more? Mary gasped and nodded. 

“Yes, Mr. Kishibe! I totally will!” She nodded, clasping her hands together as she stammered out. “I’ll, uh, I’ll make sure you regret picking up a pen!” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Rohan gloated, dramatically flipping his hair. “Now get out of my house, I have work to do.” 

He said with a grin as he slammed the door shut on Koichi and Mary. Koichi stood close to Mary, who was completely silent, and waved his hands. 

“P-please don’t listen to Rohan, he just doesn’t understand how-” 

Mary interrupted Koichi’s apology with a quiet squeal. “Oh my gosh, Koichi, he does remember me!” 

“Uh-” 

“He even checks and compares our sales numbers! The fact he regards me so highly means I’m doing amazing!” 

“But he just said he wanted to crush you.” 

“Oh, he’s just joking,” Mary dismissed. “Men like Rohan, they’re driven by one thing! Their self-imposed ideals and goals! That fact I’m now one of his goals to crush means I am, in fact, important enough to become a goal! He just can’t admit that, yet. I mistook his harsh words earlier for a brute, but now I see he really does care for me!” 

Koichi looked gobsmacked at Mary’s excited cheers. “W-what, that is literally not-” 

“Koichi, thank you for today! I owe you my life!” Mary beamed. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner soon! But now, I need to go home and start my new chapter!” 

“But, but you and Rohan still-” 

“Byyyyyyyeeeee~!” She waved as she sprinted off in her heels to presumably head back to her house. 

Koichi was left speechless at Rohan’s front porch, wondering what the hell he just witnessed. He couldn’t believe his two favorite mangakas were such weirdos. Is that a requirement for all mangakas at this point? 

#jjba #mary 4 #mary yazawa #jjba oc #self ship community #my oc #self ship #jojo oc #kishibe rohan x oc #mary x rohan #rohan kishibe #kishibe rohan #rohan kishibe x oc #selfship community #selfshipping community

[grubus]

i know it was a while ago but,if you still do the wip ask game, could you tell more about Marked Red, Ten Makes It Even and the WQW/MQF one? 👉👈 thanks!! all your ideas are so good

Oh no problem!!!

So with WQW/MQF I haven't written all that much, but it's basically the ones from my SYoNR fic :D It's a oneshot of them meeting and getting together, and is kinda meant to not only explore my idea of their backgrounds but also to answer some questions people have had. Mostly about WQW's full body tattoos ;) What I've written, I'm not sure I'll keep, so that is all on that you get!

More under cut for the other two!

Ten Makes It Even is a classic Shen Twins AU, where SY is, as you have guessed, SJ's twin. I began to poke at it even before I started SYoNR, but I took the... child mind concept from there and used it in SYoNR. Here's a tiny peek!

Shen Yuan is four years old when he realizes something is wrong. 

He sits next to his twin where they have been idly drawing in the dirt as their mother bargains with customers at her stall of goods, knowing her children are safely tucked away behind her, doing what children did at their age. That is when he blinks and everything is startlingly clear.

He looks at his mother and knows while he is of her blood, it’s not the right mother. Her hair should be dark brown and curly, not black and straight. She is tall and willowy rather than short and steady, wearing rough, traditional clothes instead of jeans and high heels. 

Shen Yuan peeks past the stall, craning his head over his twin’s. The dirt road through the village is dusty, the houses ancient looking. 

There are no cars, only horses and carriages and a man sailing past on a sword that has his twin stare in fascination and makes Yuan deeply confused because swords can’t fly. Except they can, he knows that. But they shouldn’t be able to either and– 

Shen Yuan knows there’s a word for what is happening. It’s on the tip of his tongue. 

( Error. Error. )

( Soul Transmission Corrupted: Soul and Body Incompatible. )

( Rebooting… rebooting… )

( Please Hold. )

He blinks, and giggles as his mind settles back down into that of a four year old. Hazy and happy and feeling utterly safe, tugging at his mother’s robes to beg for food. 

It’s too early for an adult mind in a child’s body.

THE END

Marked Red is an original story of mine, set in a fantasy world and there's kind of a hunger games vibe about getting the throne? That only a few "chosen at birth" can participate in. It's from the POV of Rowan, a hot tempered gay girl with super strength, who teams up with a bunch of other people (including Alma, her Big Crush of more noble standing) that all have various gifts and questionable motives.

Mostly the idea was that the plot only moves forward because they're all late teens/young adults making dumb decisions. I think I've been poking at the world building for... years??? I should actually write the story one day but I loooove world building <_< Here's a little peek!

The water was green and brown. It looked thicker than mud and twice as unhealthy, with mosquitoes and bloodflies buzzing above it. It was the kind of water that reminded Rowan of rotten wood and something pure toxic. "I dare one of you to touch it," Sivan said, effectively breaking the silence that had fallen upon them all as they stared.  "Touch that? It looks like poison," Alma protested, tucking her hands under her arms as if to further protect them from bug bites. She wore thick gloves; Rowan did not, and felt an intense flare of jealousy when another mosquito landed on her pinky. That had to be the millionth bug bite in the last hour. "I'm immune to poison," Nur said. "You're just a chicken," Sivan told Alma. "I'm not a-!" "I touched it," Nur said, knee deep in the swamp. An alligator burst out of the water, jaws missing Nur's head by an inch, and they all shrieked.

#WIP ask me meme #wooo stories lets go

[sabu-rina]

Sour - past Touya/OC (NSFW)

tags/TWs \\ References to Underage, Reference to grooming, Spit Kink, mention of vomit, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Canon, Deku is dead and the villains won, Touya survived

Villain!Eun AU. She once loved him, so Touya could be the key to getting Eun back, but it's easy to forget or dismiss the damage done when you "date" a 16 year old girl as a 24 year old man. Now 18, Eun isn't the girl he knew. (AO3)

Eun ran her tongue from palm to pinky, collecting the lime juice that had dripped from her lips. She set her shot glass on the bar with the others, leftover salt from the rims crackling beneath it, then picked up the next one. She paused a moment to stare down at the clear liquor with eyes so heavy-lidded she looked as tired as she felt, but the good parts of her soul needed a little more drowning to shut them up, so she threw it back, not bothering with a chaser. No flinch, even if it did burn all the way down.

As she reached for the last glass, she felt warmth at her back as two long arms appeared in her periphery, easily reaching around her to grab the bar, effectively locking her in place. Lips pressed to the shell of her ear, further heating her booze-warmed body.

“I never took you for a tequila girl,” came the low, raspy voice of Dabi—Touya Todoroki. His leather jacket creaked as he unbent, tilting his head to see at least part of her face. She was flushed, but no more than when he’d walked in. Rather than turn, to see his face, she flagged the bartender for three more shots. He nodded, but she knew if she were anyone else, he would have cut her off.

“What do you want?” she asked coldly.

“Just thought you’d want to know I survived your little trick.”

“Yeah. I saw.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“You dropped a building on me.”

She heard his smirk and couldn’t help the upward tick in the corner of her mouth. Her gaze dropped to the glass as she picked it up, then she sat back a bit, the small distance all she had before her shoulders met the wall of his body. She closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out to lick along the rim, collecting as much salt as she could. When she tilted her head back to down the shot, her black, glassy gaze bore into his, her expression uninterested while the light in her eyes almost appeared heart shaped. She swallowed and he saw the bob of her throat, but then his eyes drifted lower to the hemline of her tank top where a small dark bruise had freshly formed on the top of her breast.

Fuck.

He quickly resettled his eyes on her face, which was now facing him fully as she kept her head rested on his shoulder. The little quirk of her lips was gone, leaving her emotions unreadable even to him. After a brief silence between them, she spoke first.

“Are you going to cage me all night or sit down?” she asked dully.

“We both know the second I move, you’ll use an illusion and escape,” he said. She studied him for a moment, then sighed and leaned forward again, turning away.

“No, I won’t.” The bartender set down her trio of shots and went to clearing away the rest. “I’m not done drinking.”

Touya stared at the back of her head and contemplated dragging her out of the shitty villain bar. Without a Quirk dampener or shock anklet, there wasn’t a soul inside that could stop him…Except her. The fight wasn’t worth it, so he sighed and made his way to the empty stool beside her and pulled it right next to her before sitting. Well, all the stools were empty. None of the other patrons sat at the bar with her. He glanced behind at the tables of people talking quietly amongst themselves, and no one looked in their direction.

He looked at her next, letting his eyes trail up the entire length of her body, from her feet to her cute, little nose. Even hunched, he could see how long and tall she was, especially her legs, which were no longer covered by joggers. He remembered hating the sweatpants after seeing her in nothing, wishing she’d wear a skirt like she did at school. The thought skeeved him out now; Dabi could ignore the whole age thing, but shame had introduced itself to Touya.

Even though she was an adult now, he found himself preferring joggers and oversized t-shirts over her current getup. She wore thin, dark grey leggings with torn knees and shiny black hotpants. The black tank top was lowcut and just as skintight as the rest, giving the illusion of more cleavage and leaving little to the imagination, including the fact she was braless. Gone were her sneakers too, replaced with boots that had seen better days.

He let his gaze wander once more before seeing the bruise again. His eyes narrowed and flicked up to her face, which paid more mind to her next shot than him. He watched her lick the rim again before downing it, then biting into her last slice of lime, the juice dripping down her chin as it had before. Before she could wipe it away, he reached over and grabbed her chin to smear it with his thumb, just to get her to look at him for real. She didn’t look surprised and made no move to pull away, just stared at him. Tired. Gone.

“Eun,” he said softly, his thumb moving to her bottom lip. He pressed gently, nearly mesmerized by the glossy pink flesh, wet from the lime. He wanted the stars back, the way her black eyes would light up when he showed her affection, a surprisingly adorable reprieve from the darkness. But when he looked into her eyes again, there was still nothing there. He pulled her lip down a bit before letting it go and retracting his hand.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low and brow furrowing. “What are either of us doing here? You should be at home, not throwing back shots in the slums like it’s all you’ve got left.”

“Oh? And where should you be?” she asked, her blank expression unchanging.

“With you,” he said, without thinking.

She laughed once, humorless, then scoffed and looked forward again. Three more fingers, the bartender nodded and cleared the old, not sparing Touya a glance. He watched her, trying not to be hurt by her reaction, but his heart had grown 3 sizes since they met almost two years before. She waited for her drinks before responding, pointedly doing her next shot without salt or the lime, and even more pointedly, slamming it on the bar dangerously close to where his hand rested. She turned on her stool and slammed her boot into the stool between his legs, forcing it backward and actually startling him.

Finally, she showed an emotion, but it wasn’t one he wanted. She seethed at him and bared her teeth.

“I don’t need saving, and I sure as fuck don’t need you. The only reason that building didn’t crush you is because I didn’t want it to, but not because I have feelings or some bullshit. Not for you.”

“So, it’s true…” he said quietly. She faltered, confused, then looked more pissed than before, if that was possible.

“What is?” she asked.

“When you stabbed Mr. Anger Management, you missed on purpose. You could have killed my little bro too, but you didn’t. Just like Uncle said.” She opened her mouth to argue, but then snapped shut. She sat a little straighter.

“Uncle is here?” she asked, suddenly incredibly calm. “Where?”

“Can’t say,” he said, then added, “Don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Really, Eun. He comes and goes.”

She gave him a once over with a look as though he were dogshit on her shoe, then turned again and got off her stool, boots thudding heavily on the creaky wood. The bar had gone silent, the other patrons staring down at their drinks as they waited for the storm to pass. Without sparing Touya another glance, she reached over and grabbed the last two shot glasses, then turned heel, and marched for the door, unimpeded by anyone.

Once her figure had disappeared out the door and into the rainy night, the low din of the bar returned as relief washed over everyone. The bartender clicked his tongue and mumbled about not paying, so Touya pulled a stack of cash from his pocket and slid it to him, earning a surprised but elated look. He got to his feet, waving off the man’s gratitude—it was his dad’s money anyway.

Lightning cracked when he set foot outside, lighting up the vacant street and all the connected alleys. Touya squinted through the heavy rain and looked both ways for her. It didn’t take long to find her thanks to her dirty blonde hair catching the light from one of the working streetlamps. He jogged lightly to catch up, then slowed to a brisk walk once a little closer. She was hunched with her arms crossed, fuming for reasons he wasn’t quite sure yet. Luckily, she wasn’t going as fast as she could, so he caught up to her just as she turned into an alley.

“Fuck off,” she said once he was close.

“Eun, please. Just talk to me.”

“Eat shit.”

“Wait a fucking second.” He grabbed her arm suddenly and yanked her back, his Quirk flaring for just a moment, enough to light up her face as she spun around. The rain running down her face looked like tears, her hair glued to her forehead or pushed behind her ears, leaving her eyes wide open for him. She looked surprised rather than angry, but that changed when the blue fire died away, leaving them in shadow again.

“What do you want?” she spat. She ripped her wrist from his hand and shoved his chest with surprising strength.

“I’m trying to tell you, it’s okay to come home! They’ve been trying to tell you sorry, but you’re too stubborn to listen! You don’t have to work for that dusty ass, you don’t have to be a villain!” The irony of his own words made him sick, but he needed to get through to her. The others were so sure he could, that he might be the only one who could, but that was proving incorrect. She stared at him for a long while, the whites of her eyes almost glowing in the dark. Slowly, she spoke again.

“I’m where I want to be,” she said quietly, “And it’s not with you, or with them.”

“It’s Shigaraki, then?” he said, the sharp edge of jealousy leaking out. She clenched her jaw, not going to qualify the accusation with an answer, but then he was in her face, one hand on her shoulder and the other holding her hip. She didn’t move away or flinch, not even when his fingers dug into her flesh, shaking ever so slightly with anger. His hand drifted from her shoulder to her neck, then her throat where it tightened, jerking her even closer to him. She was only an inch or so shorter than him, but his boots gave him a couple extra, making him look down at her just a bit. Her lips parted in a small, silent gasp, her eyes widening as he leaned closer, his own lips drifting closer to hers.

Then he relaxed his shoulders a bit and let go of her throat to run his hand down her chest, fingertips grazing over her collarbones on their way to the top of her breast, where they lingered and pressed lightly on that damned bruise. Her breathing stopped, knowing exactly what he was touching.

“It’s Shigaraki,” he repeated, almost whispering, “It’s this. That’s why you’re here.”

“…What are you saying?” she asked, barely breathing.

“You let him touch you,” he accused, “More than that?”

Suddenly, the wide-eyed girl with a cute little nose and pretty lips, the one who kissed him earnestly after he’d been such an ass, the one who still cared for her friends despite all the agony life threw at her, that girl was gone.

In the moment her face darkened, and her fangs returned, when her third eye shot open and glowed red, he felt his limbs wrench from his body, saw them bounce off the gritty alley walls on either side of them. His guts lurched as he was pushed back by an invisible but incredible force, his feet leaving drag marks in the ground, then the force was gone and he fell to his knees, barely catching himself on instinct as he emptied his stomach on the concrete. As he huffed, vision swimming, it dawned on him that he still had his arms and legs, even though the pain had been real. He coughed, more spittle joining the puddle, then leaned back on his legs so he could look up at her. She was staring down her nose at him, third eye slowly closing again.

“I let him touch me. I let him fuck me too, and sometimes we cuddle, and I pretend it’s love. But you know that already, because I’m just a stupid little girl who will lay down for any older man who shows me attention, right? Spit in my mouth. Praise me. Degrade me. Show me what I’ve been missing. And I’ll call him daddy because daddy issues are hot. Pun fucking intended, you fucking asshole.”

Her boot collided with the center of his chest, sending him onto his back. He felt his heel hit the mess he’d expelled moments before and grimaced. Thud. Thud. She slowly approached, each foot on either side of his waist when she stopped. Then, he grunted as she aggressively sat on his aching stomach. Rain hit his face, his eyes stinging with each thick drop. She grabbed his face with her hand, index and thumb pressing into the lines where the healers removed his staples and tried to fix his scars. She kept pressing until his jaw was forced to open, then leaned forward, knees on the ground, and eyes boring into his. She blocked out the rain and that was when he saw it, a little bit of light in those endless black irises. It glowed red, but it was something in the abyss. He tried to smile, but her fingers were pressing into the hinges of his jaw too hard. She was hurting him…

Eun loudly cleared her throat and, with a sneer, spat the glob into his open mouth. She forced his jaw shut, making his teeth clack, and smirked as she pressed her palm over his lips.

“Swallow for me, baby,” she purred, “You’re so good at it.”

He swallowed it and felt it slide down his throat. The sensation went straight to his cock, which was already twitching from her grabbing his face like that. She got to her feet and walked toward the street, purposely stepping close to his head like she might stomp it. He listened to her receding footsteps, barely hearing them over his own panting. Fuck.

“You…you said you liked it…You said you…loved me,” he forced out, straining to speak loudly. His entire body was sore from her attack, like the aftermath of having the wind knocked out of him by a tank. She paused at the end of the alley.

“I do,” she said, “And I did love you, really. But then I grew up.”

He wasn’t the man for the job, after all. Touya smiled to himself as he heard her leave and thanked the rain for washing away the blood running down his cheek and cooling the burning shame on his skin.

Thanks for reading! I hope there's enough context here, and I think I got enough warnings in. There is an epilogue as well, "No Love Among Villains."

#oc x canon #eun mha #mha oc #original character #touya todoroki #touya x oc #dabi x oc #tw grooming #tw vomit mention #eun is 18+ but she wasn't always #sabuwrites

[inner-sakura]

Hypothetically Ever After

[childhood friends AU, adrienette, slowburn, fake/pretend relationship]

With only two weeks of summer vacation to spare, Marinette enlists Adrien’s help with a task of utmost importance.

“I need you to help me seduce your brother.”

Quite predictably, nothing goes according to plan.

a fic inspired by jennifer echols’s the boys next door, and starrycove​’s Brothers AU (where PV Félix is Adrien’s older brother) because both of them have lived in my head and my heart for many years. 

read the rest: AO3 | ff.net

chapter thirty-four

At some point over the course of the evening, Marinette managed to acquire a drink—a can of some kind of beverage she hadn’t bothered to read the label of. All she had cared about at the time was that it was unopened and blissfully cold. It served as a welcome relief from the heat, and had the added bonus of occupying her hands.

The can was sweating in her palm, condensation dripping down between the cracks of her fingers; a wet and unpleasant reminder of how sticky the air was, even though the air-conditioning was blasting in the house.

There were so many people crammed into every room that the A/C wasn’t doing much, helpless to combat the heat produced by that many bodies pressed together, drinking and laughing and generally having a good time.

Although Marinette was admittedly doing very little of any of those things at the moment.

Apart from the former... She contemplated the soda in her hand, standing alone in the far corner of the dining room. She didn’t particularly have the stomach for anything stronger, what with the heavy weight that had been sitting in her abdomen since her run-in with Adrien.

Marinette knew she should be doing something—checking on Félix, perhaps. Or maybe attempting to reconcile with Adrien, if that was still a possibility. Hell, even the idea of giving up and heading home with her tail between her legs sounded better than several more hours of standing in plain view, waiting for someone to take pity and talk to her.

A droplet of water rolled down her pinky, landing on her foot with a cold plop.

God, I have never felt like more of a loser.

Yet, instead of cutting her losses and running, Marinette remained rooted in place; just another decorative fixture against the wall, observing the party as it continued on without her.

She was in the middle of feeling particularly invisible and sorry for herself when she began to pick up snippets of the conversation happening to her right.

There was a group of about five or six teens seated around the dining room table, most of whom had been there since she’d wandered in. She hadn’t really paid them any mind at the time—too caught up in her brooding to register what they were talking about. They were loud, she’d noticed, and a bit obnoxious, but then again the ear-splitting volume of the music certainly wasn’t conducive to intimate, toned-down conversation.

Although she’d be willing to wager that the assorted bottles of liquor scattered around them weren’t helping matters either.

It was then, as she was surveying their makeshift graveyard of recyclable materials, that one of the teens leaned back, propping his feet up on the smooth, polished surface of the stately dining table. Marinette felt her soul leave her body.

What is this guy, some kind of barn animal? She recoiled, filled with horror at the sight. She had half a mind to march over and tell him to put his nasty feet back on the floor where they belonged, regardless of whether she lived there or not.

She stepped forward, only to freeze at the last second when the topic of their conversation finally registered.

“So anyway, I said to him, I was like ‘there’s no way you can do it, bro,' cause he’s such a wimp when it comes to heights. Then he tried to argue with me, getting all pissy about it. But in the end, he still wouldn’t go unless I did it first!” The guy with his feet up on the table threw his head back and laughed loudly, his perfectly straight pearly white teeth flashing against the deep golden colour of his skin. Marinette supposed that by most definitions he might be considered handsome, at least for those that were into that sort of Ken doll, Country Club aesthetic. In fact, everything about their crowd kept with the sort of meticulously groomed, manufactured attractiveness she had come to expect from the people in Adrien and Chloe’s social circles. Human flaws and physical imperfections were weaknesses that people with money simply did not possess.

“Was it scary?” The girl beside him asked breathlessly, blinking her wide doe-eyes at him. He preened under her attention, puffing out his chest as he tried to play it cool.  

“It was no big deal. I’ve done it plenty of times,” he sat up, leaning towards her as his tone of voice dipped into something more provocative. “We could do it together sometime... I’ll even let you hold my hand the entire time, if you want.”

The girl tittered, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger and shrugging her shoulders in a way that drew attention to certain of her… god-given attributes. His gaze fell, abandoning her face entirely in favour of her not inconsiderable bosom.

Marinette looked away, staring hard at the wall across from her, trying desperately to prevent her nose from wrinkling with disgust.

Please lord, end my suffering.

“I don’t know… It seems kind of dangerous, don’t you think?” Marinette couldn’t tell if this coquettish routine was actually part of some elaborate courtship display, or whether the blonde had genuine compunctions about whatever activity they were discussing. Either way, the dark-haired guy she was talking to clearly had hopes for the former, judging by the way he was looming almost aggressively into her space now.

“It’s a total adrenaline rush, unlike anything else. Better than getting high. Almost better than sex,” here he threw the girl a wink that in his mind was probably the epitome of seduction. Marinette wanted to gag.  

What a sleazeball.

Eyeing the doorway nearest to her, Marinette debated whether it might be better to retreat before tongues and hands started wandering to dangerous places. The couple closest to her and the rest of their friends clearly hadn’t noticed her lurking in the corner, but if she were to leave now, they might think she’d been deliberately standing there, eavesdropping on their conversation. Which… technically she had been. But that was more a result of necessity, rather than any genuine desire on her part. She hadn’t actually wanted to sit in on their swaggering and posturing and horny teenage mating rituals—she’d been backed into a corner.

Both figuratively and literally speaking.

Although truth be told, it wasn't like she really had anything better to do or anyone else to hang out with. She grimaced, the image of Adrien’s back disappearing in the crowd flashing through her mind unbidden, accompanied by a sharp pain.

“Make sure you put on a good show.”

Marinette shook her head, a vain attempt at dislodging the grip those words still had on her. That was not a path she could afford to wander down at the moment.

Desperate for a distraction, she tuned back into the conversation just in time to catch the tail end of whatever His Royal Sliminess had been saying.

“—it’s just bridge jumping, love. You’ll be totally fine.”

Oh my god, of course they were talking about bridge jumping, Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes. Or burst out laughing. They fit the exact demographic of people she had come to associate with the activity. Young, dumb, and full of more hormones than common sense.

It made perfect sense, actually. In an idiotic, brain-dead sort of way.

How fucking dumb do you have to be? She wondered silently.

It was only when heads began to turn towards her that Marinette realized, with a rising sort of dread, that she might not have been so silent after all.

-x-

Surprisingly enough, the blonde was the first to find her voice.

“Excuse me?” She asked, her brows arching in disbelief. The wide-eyed ditzy look she’d been wearing moments earlier had vanished, melting into something harsher and meaner. Less doe-like, Marinette noted from a distant corner of her brain—one that wasn’t busy screaming bloody murder—and perhaps something with more teeth. And sharp claws.

“What did you just say?”

Marinette’s mouth went dry.  

Both the blonde and her dark-haired companion were turned fully to face her, their expressions flat and unfriendly. With her chances of escape reduced to little more than a pipe-dream, Marinette cursed her big, fat mouth and its tendency to land her in hot water.

She swallowed thickly. There was no way back now, which meant the only way out of this hell was to go through it.

“I said that it’s dumb. Do you have any idea how dangerous bridge jumping is?” When her voice came out steadily and without the slightest hint of a waver, Marinette sent up a silent prayer of thanks to every named and unnamed god in the known universe.

She went on, gaining confidence. “Not only is it impossible to predict what might be in the water below, but you have to factor in passing boats and other watercraft—”  

“Oh please,” the other girl scoffed derisively, rolling her eyes. The guy beside her glowered, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried to stare Marinette down.

“Have you ever even tried it?” The blonde asked pointedly, as though she already knew the answer. The people at the other end of the table were starting to look over now, clearly scenting the blood in the water.

“No.” Marinette gritted out reluctantly. I also don’t need to stick a fork in a light socket to know it’s a terrible idea. Some things just go without saying.

One of the other girls at the table leaned over, whispering in the blonde’s ear. Her eyes lit up.  

“Of course, you haven’t!” She giggled. It was not a friendly sound. “The Agrestes have their lapdog so well-trained she probably doesn’t do anything without being told to first.”

They were all laughing now, a herd of jeering hyenas taunting their prey. Marinette felt her face flood with colour, a wave of humiliated anger crashing over her.

Tossing her blonde hair with what appeared to be long-practiced skill, the other girl looked around mockingly. “It seems like they’ve gotten tired of you, though. They upgrade to a newer, less dumpy pet already?”

Marinette stiffened, her mouth moving before her brain could catch up with what she was saying.

“I could jump off the bridge if I wanted to.”

The instant the words left her lips, she wanted to take them and shove them back down her throat. Especially when she saw the gleeful looks being exchanged around the table.

Oh, this is not good.

“Is that a bet?” The first guy asked, smirking at her as he took a swig of beer. Everything about his posture oozed condescension; his belief that she would back out and flee with her tail between her legs apparent.

This—this buttheaded little shit! Marinette clenched her jaw, irritated that she was even entertaining their nonsense in the first place. Anyone in their right mind would have laughed in their insufferably smug, made-to-order faces and told them exactly where they could shove their challenge. Or they would have kept their wits about them and just walked away like a sensible, rational human being.

In the end, there were several reasonable courses of action available to her, none of which involved standing before a den of wolves, frozen in deliberation.

Because as much as she might want to deny it, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder whether a part of her had walked into this conversation itching for a fight—rubbed raw and confrontational after the last few hours of turmoil.

She was desperate for anything that might distract her from the fact that everything was falling apart, Adrien wasn’t speaking to her, and all of her best-laid plans and good intentions hadn’t done a particularly good job of paving the way to hell.

You don’t want to do this, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Adrien’s whispered.  

Her resolve hardened.

You don’t get to tell me what I do and don’t want anymore.

“It’s a bet,” Marinette said, reaching out to shake hands with the devil.

-x-

Naturally, it didn’t take long for everything to catch up with her.

“Of all the stupid no-good decisions I have ever made, this one might take the cake,” Marinette slapped at a tree branch, cursing when it rebounded and whipped her across the side of the head.

Screw stupid teenagers and their stupid challenges. She could be at home right now, curled up in front of the TV in her pyjamas, drowning her sorrows in a pint of ice cream. Or whatever it was that people were supposed to do when they’d had their heart broken for the first time.

Instead, she was traipsing through the woods at sunset, wondering how in the hell things had managed to go tits up quite so spectacularly.  

Continuing along the forest path, Marinette focused on putting one foot in front of the other, her thoughts rapidly cycling between stewing over what had just happened and berating herself for rising to the bait in the first place.

If she had any modicum of intelligence, she would turn around on the spot and head straight home. To hell with bridge jumping, and her pride, and every single extenuating circumstance that had led her up to this moment.  

And yet, a small, unwelcome voice pointed out, it will probably make for a good show...

Before the thought had even finished forming, Marinette was shaking her head in disgust. She ruthlessly tamped down on the voice, annoyed with her brain for having considered the notion in the first place.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted Félix’s attention anymore, let alone badly enough to risk life and limb for it.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!” She growled, clomping through the underbrush, angrily swatting branches away and fuming all the while.

If anything, her ire served as a welcome distraction from the dread that was dragging at her heels, each step that drew her closer to her destination falling heavier than the last. She was beginning to catch glimpses of the bridge now, brief flashes of metal and water peeking through the leaves.

Her stomach clenched.

If she wasn’t so busy seething, Marinette probably would have had the common sense to be terrified of what she was about to do. Realistically, she knew that people had been bridge jumping all summer, and no reports of injuries or accidental maiming had reached her ears.

Still, that didn’t make the sight of the old metal rail bridge looming above her any less daunting.

She gulped, her throat going dry as she came to a break in the trees.

It was too late to turn back now. Her pride was on the line.

Besides, even if she didn’t care about getting with Félix anymore, doing this might be the only way to get Adrien’s attention long enough for him to actually speak to her again.

It was stupid, and foolhardy, and unbelievably reckless.

And yet, as she toed her sandals off on the shore, Marinette understood with a startling sort of clarity—the kind that only came in the wake of a sudden rush of adrenaline—that it was absolutely, one hundred percent going to happen.

The distance doesn’t look that far from here anyway. I’m sure it’ll be fine...

A trickle of sweat traced the curve of her spine, settling at the small of her back.

Probably.

She shivered at the unpleasant sensation, stripping out of her clothes and down to her bathing suit as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger any longer than she had to.

It was obvious that people had been in the area recently. The path up to the top of the bridge was clear and surprisingly easy to navigate, even in her bare feet.

It’ll be fine, I can do this. Marinette repeated the words like a mantra as she climbed, willing her racing heart to slow.

Her determination had all but crumbled to ash by the time she made it onto the body of the bridge, however.

The old steel was warm under her feet. Luckily the platform wasn’t facing the direction of the setting sun, otherwise it would have been burning hot to the touch. Although even the thought of scalding the soles off of her feet seemed like a more appealing alternative to her current reality.

She risked a glance down, taking in the seemingly never-ending drop to the water.

Marinette wavered, nearly paralyzed by fear as she stood on the small platform, suspended on an ancient rail bridge some ungodly distance in the air.

Thankfully there was no one around to hear the sound of the great, heaving breaths she was taking.

“Okay—this—isn’t—so bad.” She managed to choke out, cursing her feeble lungs and the gods that had burdened her with them. “It’ll be f-fine. I can—I can DO THIS.”

Clenching her hands into fists, she tried to imagine balling up all of her fear and anxiety into one solid mass the size of a baseball. Then, she pictured herself biffing it across the lake, far into the mountains beyond. It didn’t really help.

The wind pulled at her hair, its inquisitive hands coiling around her ankles and stirring up the water below.

The shakiness in her knees began to travel up her legs, jangling all the way to the bone.

Marinette let out a strangled gasp, quickly turning her gaze to the shoreline, desperate to find some kind of anchor point.

From her position, she had a perfect view of the Agrestes’ backyard, and the party that appeared to be gaining, rather than losing steam. In fact, there were far more people outside than she’d expect to see; droves of them floating across the lawn and patio like brightly coloured bugs.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Word had obviously gotten around about what she intended to do, judging by the turnout.

“Great,” she muttered. “One order of public humiliation, coming right up.”

Marinette scanned the groups dotting the backyard, searching for any familiar silhouettes. It proved to be somewhat of an exercise in futility though; the distance too great for her to pick out people’s features with any accuracy.

Even still, she couldn’t help but keep an eye out for any flashes of blonde among the crowd.

After several moments, she shifted her focus from any tall blonde-haired figures that may or may not appear, choosing instead to gaze off in the direction of the sleepy blue mountains bracketing the lake.

“How the hell did I end up here?” She asked them, letting out a somewhat hysterical laugh when the reality of her situation began to sink in. Her current physical predicament was the stuff of her literal nightmares, and yet it might actually be the least of her worries at the moment. Because the stretch of air below her feet was infinitely less terrifying than the possibility that she might very well be on the verge of losing Adrien for good.

Marinette choked back a sob, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth as she blinked the sudden onslaught of tears from her eyes.

I just want things to make sense again.

She wanted to go back to when things were more straightforward; back when she’d had feelings for Félix and not Adrien, and her mind had been consumed by thoughts of how handsome Félix was, instead of thinking about how much she wanted to hold Adrien’s hand, and how good it felt to kiss him, and how desperately she hoped she’d be able to find a way to fix things between them.

“What am I doing?” Her eyes fell to the lake below, as though it held all the answers she sought.

But it remained murky and vague; its waters entirely uninviting.

This whole situation was so stupid. She needed to return to the party, find Adrien, and tell him exactly how she felt. Even if he didn’t feel the same way about her, she needed to get it off her chest. She’d deal with the potential awkwardness and the heartbreak and all the other side-effects that came with an unrequited love later.

Because Marinette now knew, with absolute certainty, that the thought of losing Adrien Agreste was worse than confronting even her worst of worst fears. She would rather face down a thousand-metre freefall than the possibility of an entire lifetime without him in it.

Not having Adrien in her life in some way was simply not an option, she decided.

Emboldened by her newfound clarity, Marinette turned, intent on making her way back down to solid ground.

Only to be met by the wall of black clouds that was rapidly descending over the lake, hazy with rain and flickering with lightning.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh fuck.”

-x-

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml fic recs #no miraculous au #ml fanworks #ml brothers au #childhood friends au #ongoing fic #hypothetically ever after

[teeztheflag]

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Mafia!Ateez reaction to their child telling them that a member is flirting with you

trigger warnings ⚠️ mafia themes, flirting, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, murder, alcohol, sexual harassment (slight)

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @purplelady85 @smallfrye​

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k i m  h o n g  j o o n g

„Where’s mommy?“ Your little son ran up to Hong Joong to be picked up by the mafia leader.

His eyes wander over the crowd at the garden gathering and when he’s not spotting you he flashes a little smile at his son.

„Mommy is talking to a man.“

Hong Joong nudges the little boy to whereas he points into a direction. Following the path around the house he sees you talking to none other than Kang Yeo Sang. His rival.

When Yeo Sang places his palm on your cheek you take a step back and frown at the boy. Hearing a cough behind you a smile escapes your form. The rival on the other hand rolls with his eyes and lets out a huff.

You’re quick to stand next to your husband and take your son into your arms leaving the two mafia leaders behind.

„You’re getting on my nerves, Kang.“

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p a r k  s e o n g  h w a

„(y/n)...“

You stood stiff in Seong Hwa‘s lavish office. Your gaze trained to the ground and your heart sinking to the bottom when he neared your form. He placed his cold fingers under your chin to raise your head. Locking his eyes with you a sigh escapes him.

„You know you belong to me. Why are you still resisting?“

„I don’t know what you are talking about.“

Seong Hwa engulfs you into his embrace leaning your head on his shoulder.

„Even our princess doesn’t like you betraying me. I will make sure you are not seeing him again.“

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j e o n g  y u n  h o

„And what did he say after that?“

Yun Ho caressed his daughters soft hair while she sat on his lap in their livingroom.

„That he will hurt her. I don’t remember so much... He was really scary daddy!“

With big glossy eyes Yun Ho feels his heart shattering. His daughter being so afraid for his light of the world.

He wouldn’t let Choi San get away with this.

After bringing his angel to bed he visits your shared bedroom to see you being asleep. You’re stirring and he can only guess that your nightmares are back.

With a gun and a sharp knife hidden in his suit he drives fast through the night. His team is already ready to blow up the place.

And with the final hit Yun Ho grabs the ex lover of his wife by his collar.

„I told you to stay away from us. That she is not your business anymore. What were you thinking?“

San struggles in his grip but manages to bring out his probably last words. „Kill me, but, live with the knowledge that she will never love you.“

He dropped to the ground and Yun Ho grasps his shaking hands together rage filling his body.

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k a n g  y e o  s a n g

When your son repeatedly told Yeo Sang that he really liked the guy that was around you since a few weeks he was relieved. It was good Woo Young seemed to do his job right. After the last attack he wanted the both of you safe all the time. That’s why he send one of his best men that he trusted with all of his might.

It was only when he tucked him into bed that he stopped in his tracks being deep in thoughts. He goes downstairs and pours himself a glass of wine. He jolts a little bit when you embrace him from behind and he turns around to eye you with a sharp gaze. Tilting his head you step back and flash him a small smile.

„What’s up?“

„Woo Young‘s taking good care of you, right?“

You frown and immediately know by the tone he uses that something‘s not to his liking, and, Kang Yeo Sang not liking something was bad.

„He is, he is doing a good job. I guess.“

„Hyun Jin likes him, too. But you know what he just told me?“

You absentmindedly reach out to him to probably cool down his anger.

„He told me that uncle Woo Young was really close to you. Close like ‚daddy‘, when I asked him what he meant with that.”

“Yeo Sang, he’s not. He is just friendly. Hugging me as a greeting nothing more.“

„You think our three year old son is lying to me? (y/n), I warn you, I know him. Don’t take his flirting attempts light hearted.“

You nod at him knowing he wouldn’t take any arguing.

„If you can’t stop him I will give him a different job.“ With a last sip he finishes his glass and roughly pulls you into him to place a delicate and territorial kiss on your forehead.

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c h o i  s a n

„Dad, I don’t know how to say this but... I am really worried for your marriage. I mean is everything fine?“

San takes his cup of coffee sitting down on the breakfast table in front of your fourteen year-old daughter. He really needed a moment to register So Ra‘s words.

„What? Of course everything‘s fine! Or what are you even talking about?“

So Ra‘s gaze is trained on the buttered toast in front of her a deep frown taking place on her forehead.

„Yesterday at the gala... and I don’t know if I am mistaking things, but, I feel like she was flirting with this CEO named Song.“

San‘s eyes widened and he quickly takes a another sip from his coffee. „Oh, ehm, believe me your mother has always had her effect on...men.“

„Yeah, but, dad - the guy was literally stripping her naked with his eyes - “

„Choi So Ra! Your words!“ So Ra gestures a sorry with her hands but she didn’t want her mother to be so close to other men. She loved her parents dearly and she wanted to have a marriage like them in the future.

„Really, anyways, don’t worry. Everything‘s perfect. If there’s a problem we would never lie to you, promise!“ He holds his pinky for So Ra and with a relieved sigh she links it like she and her dad always did.

„Good morning!“ You place a kiss on your daughter‘s cheek and send a smirk to San being proud you got the right information last night.

San looks at his two princesses and has to hold back a laugh. If their daughter only knew their jobs things would be more dangerous but in many ways easier, too.

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s o n g  m i n  g i

„What means ‚sexy‘?“

You nearly caugh at your son‘s words quickly drinking something. Min Gi also nearly doubles over laughing while typing away a text for his members for their mission.

„Dong In! I thought we talked about this already.“

Your son was a persistent person eyeing you suspiciously.

Min Gi places his device on the table continuing to eat the soup for their shared dinner. „It means beautiful, but, it’s not a really polite word, Dong In.“

„Ah, so Mr. Kim is not polite to you Mum?“ That indeed catches your husband‘s attention.

„What is he talking about, (y/n)?“ A sly smile leaves him.

You groan out knowing sooner or later your son would’ve told him. „Well, Dong In‘s teacher just seems to need a talk with me about our son occasionally. And today he told me that he thinks I am ‚beautiful‘. Right, Dong In?“ Your son wasn’t paying attention anymore but with a naive sigh he slurped the rest of his soup.

„He said mommy‘s a sexy thing.“

„Dong In!“ Min Gi slowly sits back flexing his arm‘s muscles. He eyes you with a hungry gaze while he nudges Dong In.

„Next time Mr. Kim is telling your mother that she’s beautiful you say that your dad thinks so, too. Alright buddy?“ Min Gi fist bumps with your son.

„Got it!“

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j u n g  w o o  y o u n g

Woo Young wasn’t really a jelous man. He knew his worth and he also tend to be proud of the woman at his sight. Your auro caught the gazes of many men and that only boosted the mafia‘s ego.

When a man was flirting with you it was for you to play by the game. Being raised into the mafia business yourself you knew how to handle those greedy bastards.

Woo Young only smirked in the back of a booth when someone sneaked into the seat next to you at the bar. His men ready at any given chance to beat up the poor soul that tried to take what was Jung‘s.

But - he also loved your sneaky site.

It was only a button that you pushed too far when your daughter went up to his daddy to cry about how you were not giving her enough attention at the big gathering. Like the father himself their princess needed the recognition from her beloved ones.

Woo Young‘s gaze darkened when he saw you being corned by the one and only mafia leader of the west - Choi Jong Ho.

„That b - “

„Daddy! You didn’t want to swear! Mommy told you not to swear!“

„Ahhh, you’re right darling.“ He turned around to give his daughter into Seong Hwa‘s arms - one of his members.

With confident steps he emerges your form at the end of the room where Jong Ho was busy playing with your hair while talking about his latest wins in the business.

„Choi. Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself?“ Woo Young was raging by now. You didn’t stop the rival from touching you and the naive smile you send to your lover only angered him more.

„Let’s ask the lady what she wants.“ Jong Ho wiggles his eyebrows at Woo Young and you mentally facepalmed knowing Mr. Jung would scream bloody murder in a few seconds.

„I am sorry Mr. Choi.“ You gracefully step into Woo Young‘s arms giving him the satisfaction of winning this little debate with his rival. Jong Ho laughs out loud and turns around to leave the two of you.

„If you want attention ask for it. Don’t make me mad, baby.“

You lock eyes with him putting on a pout. „This way it is much more fun!“

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c h o i  j o n g  h o

It was the final day your son got introduced to the mafia world. A big party was held for him after he was prepared for everything over months. It was also his 16th birthday party and you had tears in your eyes knowing he was growing into a man so quickly really assembling his father in many ways.

It has been Park Seong Hwa‘s presence that put you off. He was an acquaintance of your clan for a long time but you didn’t really like the guy. When he approached you after dinner, when you were ushering your son to dance with a girl on the dancefloor, you immediately knew he was going to get on your nerves again.

He made jokes, touched you and clearly invaded your personal space. For the sake of your peaceful agreement you played his game hoping someone would come to help you out of your misery.

„Dad, I will literally kick this guy‘s balls if - “

„I already know about it.“ Jong Ho‘s gaze is fixed on your figure across the room. He turns to his son and tells him to have fun. He would take care of the matter.

Jong Ho soundlessly leans into your side leading Seong Hwa to roll with his eyes. He places a meaningful and strong kiss on your trembling lips catching your weight with his arms to steady you.

Playfully he turns around to the mafia a smile adoring his features. „Mr. Park. I didn’t even see you there!“ You’re quick to leave the duo to get to the toilet knowing by the squeeze Jong Ho just gave you a few seconds ago.

„Still so possessive I see. Let us leave this by complimenting you on your still beautiful wife.“ He let’s out a giggle while eying the crowd.

„Thank you, Seong Hwa. Seems to be running in my family.“

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↺ back to navi

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#ateez mafia #ateez reaction #ateez mafia au #ateez reactions #ateez au #ateez writing #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader

[deleteddewewted]

Hey comadre! I saw you asked for a fluff request, and I came to deliver 💜 I think you might be intrigued by the idea!

Shinsou who has been bullied his whole life, with the bullying growing harsher his middle school years. When he begins his high school life in UA, he remains distant, not allowing himself for others to get close to him, and for them to hurt him, because he has developed that trauma. He then successfully transfers over to the Hero Course, and his seat partner is the chubby/curvy girl of the class. She is friendly and welcoming towards him, but he remains to give her the cold shoulder, although he saw her intentions genuine, but he still keeps his guard up. She then goes and sits with him during lunch, her explaining that she understands why he gives off the cold shoulder to his peers. She explains she has underwent being bullied herself, by her weight and such. She tells him that as time passed, she learned to love and accept herself for who she is, and offers to help Shinsou in a similar manner. To help him learn to trust people and she asks if he puked accept her as a friend. He accepts and their friendship grows, with him starting to develop feelings for her, and wants to spend more time with the person who saved him from his own troubles 💗

My heart and soul needed this, thank you comadre!💜

(I may or may not have used some of my personal experience being body shamed in here so....yeah, thats your heads up.)

Misery and Company

Emo/Himbo Shinsou x F! Reader (Reverse Comfort)

TW: Mentions of bullying, Mentions of Body Shaming, Leading on

He remembered the constant laughter that was present in his life. Everyone would assumed it was a great childhood but to him, to someone like him, it was never the paradise that it was thought to be. The laughter was at him not with him. Kids pointed their fingers towards him and blamed him for all of the problems that would happen throughout the school day.

“I didn’t do it!” As a child, he didn’t know any better. He assumed that he could scream and yell like every other kid and be listened to. He found out quickly that he didn’t get that right. The teacher quickly told him off and called his parents. They came to pick him up from school and started to ask all kinds of questions. Did your quirk go off? Why did you do it? Is it that hard to listen? He didn’t bother to try to make connections after that. Friends were a waste of time. A liability. An opportunity to suffer unnecessarily.

When Shinsou reached middle school he suffered from the increase of villain comments. His quirk became the center of attention, it didn’t matter if he had good grades or was nice to people. His quirk was the focus, always was.

“You can get away with everything you want!” He’s heard that one about a million times already. It always managed to irritate him how much people cared about what he did with it. He hated the eyes. The voices. It only made his internal monologue become aggressive with himself. The constant reminder that he was less than the others for being born with a quirk that used people. It made him want to scream his head off.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Um, can we stop talking about it now?” He wasn’t a pushover but he knew that he could just say what he wanted. He purposefully asked a question to get the other student to stop talking without using his quirk. The last tithing he wanted was for someone to accuse him of using his quirk on them.

That night, Shinsou worked on his homework at his desk. His parents were away on a work trip so he had the entire house to himself. He looked at the time and groaned when he realized it was already one in the morning. He walked into his bathrooms and looked for his toothbrush. When he looked up at the mirror, ready to brush his teeth, he couldn’t help and stare at himself. His eyes held bags under them, dark and heavy as if he hadn’t slept in days. The faint smudging of the eyeliner he put on only making his eyes look even worse. He was tired and alone. His parents weren’t there to comfort him and with his quirk making it difficult to connect with others, he had no one to speak with other than himself. He dropped his hand down and just stared at his reflection. The image became hazy as he continued to stare back at it.

His face felt warm. He couldn’t stop the river that flowed down his face. He didn’t ask for his quirk, he also didn’t ask to be born. Shinsou couldn’t stop the rattling within his chest nor the stuttered gasps as he tried to breathe. He looked up at his reflection again, this time noticing the red and swollen eyes that belong to him. That night, Shinsou laid down to sleep on top of the covers and stared blindly at the uncovered window. He vowed to never become attached again. Not to classmates, not to family, and definitely not any possible friends.

Going to UA was a dream come true for him, the ability to be closer to your heroic dreams was closer than ever, but not for him. Shinsou had to watch as the heor course students acted like entitled brats, everyone in the school bowing to them like they were some great thing. He hated watching them boast, hated everything about them, to be honest. He wanted nothing to do with them, so why did they want something to do with him?

“Uh, sorry but I was wondering if you’d like to sign this petition?” Shinsou looked up from the book he was reading and stared straight towards the holder of the voice. It was a short chubby girl with a clipboard in her hands. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer to her question.

“No thanks.”

“It’s for a local shelter, it’ll help abused and abandoned pets find a good home-” Shinsou wanted to be left alone. He sighed out loud and closed his book while rubbing his eyes, the eyeliner smudging.

“I said no. Now leave me alone.” Shinsou watched as the girl flinched at his annoyed voice.

“S-sorry, I’ll just leave you alone.” She quickly walked away from him, nearly entering a jog as she left him behind. Shinsou couldn’t help but become disappointed with himself. The girl was being nice to him and he snapped at her. She wasn’t even benign annoying, he just felt tired. He could hear how some people around him mumbled about the exchange he packed his things up and left towards his class.

He did see the girl again from time to time. He found out she was in the hero course and that she was in the A class as well. He would spot her on occasion but he did interact with her during his hero course admissions test. She wore her hero costume with pride and honestly, he had to look away for a moment, she looked like power itself. He couldn’t help feel intimidated in her presence. She didn’t come up to him yet so he had to come up to her. He intended on apologizing for his behavior a few months back, he didn’t mean to snap at her and he never found the opportunity to do so.

You watched as the indigo-haired boy awkwardly made his way towards your group. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes but instead focused on the floor below him.

“Hi, I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” He extended his hand out to you but you just stared at him like he grew a second head. He felt awkward again, he was expecting you to at least call him a dick but the silence made his stomach become tight.

“Nice to meet you Shinsou, I’m L/n Y/n.” You felt bad for being quiet for too long, you couldn’t help it. He was really pretty to look at especially since he wore eyeliner that sharpened the appearance of his eyes.

“Oh, uh yeah. I um, wanted to apologize for my attitude a while back. It was rude of me and uhh, I know that saying I was in a mood isn’t a good excuse but-”

“It’s fine, I get it. I can be annoying so it’s ok.” You gave him a bright smile and a clap on the back of his shoulder.

He tensed when he felt the heat of your hand on him, he couldn’t help but lean slightly into it. His ears reddened and not wanting to embarrass himself more than he did already, he quickly pulled his mask up to cover his ears and face.

“No- yeah- I mean no, you- you weren’t annoying, I was just in a mood and it accidentally let it out on you. Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you briefly. You just smiled at him again and got closer to his person.

“Hey, do you mind if i-” You grabbed the bottom part of his mask and pulled it down slightly, your face closer than ever before to his own. He stopped breathing as you got closer, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about his breath. He smelled like coffee and for some reason, it made him feel embarrassed if you were to found out about his dependency of it.

You reached out with your pinky and brushed some of the black flakes of his eyeliner away from his upper cheek. You blended the smudged eyeliner on the bottom of his eye out and pulled his mask up again to cover his face.

“There! Just wanted to clean up your makeup. It’s really well done, by the way, wish I could do my own eyeliner as clean as your own. Do you wear eyeshadow on the bottom lid or is it just eyeliner with you?” You weren’t mocking him for his dressing and styling choices, many of his old classmates did.

He told you about what products he uses and yes, he did use eyeshadow for his bottom lid. You just smiled at him and occasionally added what you used. He enjoyed talking to you, you were nice to him and allowed him to speak his mind. He couldn’t help but want to know more about you. Unfortunately, your conversation had to come to an end since his group was the first one up, but you both agreed to talk after all matches were over.

His second year at UA was better but he still felt awkward around everyone. Everyone, discluding Bakugou, was nice to him. You especially made it your duty to be around him all the time. He enjoyed your company but he found himself still pushing away from him at times. The constant lingering feeling of possible betrayal being prominent in all of your interactions. It didn’t matter how many times you helped him do his makeup or how many times he did your own, didn’t matter if he showed you his favorite video games to play, nor if he introduced you to his parents and had you in his room playing those same games with him for hours. He was still nervous, paranoid that you’ll stab him in the back. Scared that you’ll turn around and show your true colors. That you’ll take everything you know about him and tell everyone so you could all mock him again.

Shinsou, due to his fears, started to pull away from you. No more hanging out with him, no more doing each other’s makeup, no more eating lunch together. Shinsou ignored you every time you tried to speak with him, always turning himself away from you or being rude in some manner. It did discourage you at times, made you feel like you were back in middle school with the cute guys in your grade only speaking with you to make fun of your interests afterward. You thought that maybe he was going to be different but you guessed not. You kept away from him as you processed the situation but that also gave you the chance to watch him. You noticed that instead of sitting with your guy’s other classmates he would op to sit on his own within the cafeteria at a faraway table or somewhere else. You noticed that he not only avoided you but the rest of your classmates. He was back to how he was in his first year.

You couldn’t keep watching him be alone again, you didn’t want to leave him alone. You made up your mind and made your way towards Shinsou. He was sitting outside of the cafeteria eating his lunch while reading a book that was placed on his lap. He looked tense as he continued to read and nervous at any sound that made itself known. You felt bad for him, from what he told you about his own school experience, more of the lack of, you assumed that he was bullied for his quirk. He never used it on you and he never spoke much about it. He never gave you any details and never told you how his quirk activities, he just avoided the conversation entirely but he was always excited to listen to your own though.

“Shinsou.” You watched as the male jumped in his spot on the floor and direct himself towards you.

“Shinsou, can we talk for a bit?” He averted his eyes and began to pick his things from the floor, shaking his head as he did.

“N-no, sorry. I have to go-” You got in his way and crouched down to meet him at eye level.

“I know you have nowhere to be at. Please, talk to me for a bit.” You placed your hand on his own and stared at him. Shinsou didn’t want to meet your eyes. He didn’t want to see the disgust in them or the hatred you felt for him.

What he didn’t expect was for you to place your hand on his cheek and gently guide his gaze to your own. His eyes were wide and watery, he didn’t understand why you were being so gentle, so kind with him. Didn’t you want to be angry with him? Your own eyes were soft, a small smile present on your face.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” Your voice was gentle and your touch never leaving him. He took in a breath and spilled everything and all of his troubles to you. Once he finished, he was welcomed by a hug.

You pulled him into your own body and shared your warmth with him. You gently brushed his wild hair as you allowed him to cry to his heart’s content. He needed someone to listen to him, someone who would just let him talk. You were that person for him. Once he felt better, he pulled away from your person and rubbed his eyes. His eyeliner was running and smudging severely on his face. He pouted slightly at his destroyed makeup but then looked at your uniform. You had black smears all over your jacket and shirt.

“I-i’m sorry L/n. I didn’t mean to ruin your uniform.” You just chuckled and shook your head at him.

“It’s fine Shinsou, you needed to let it all out.” He began to take deeper breaths and eventually sat next to you. His head gently laying on top of your own.

“It… it was frustrating you know? I thought that I was the problem and I still feel like I am at times.”

“I get what you mean, I also had to deal with bullies.” Shinsou lifted his head and looked at you confused. You had to deal with bullies? Why? You were nice to everyone, why would anyone want to hurt you?

“I think it’s obvious as to why Shinsou.” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Yes, you did.” You gave him another smile and took his hand. You compared him to your own. Your hand was smaller than his own but it was rounder, chubbier, just like the rest of you. You found it adorable how different the both of you were.

“I’m overweight, man. People tend to hold a preconceived idea of what overweight people are like.” Shinsou still couldn’t understand.

“So?  Why would anyone bully you for something you don’t have all that much control over?”

“Because they’re mean. It’s a power trip for them.” You began to play with his fingers, taking note of the muscles that you weren’t aware existed within them.

“I used to have a crush on this guy and for the longest time, my classmates made fun of me because of it. They always said that I was too fat for him or that id hurt him if I leaned onto him. Typical mean comments about my appearance and how I was unloved.” Shinsou began to frown and got closer to you. His body heat becoming a welcoming presence to you as you recounted your own struggles.

“Then one day he asked me to hang out with him. We ate lunch together and we spent time together. I thought he was interested in me just like I was interested in him. He once got close to my face and made it look like he was about to kiss me before reaching for something behind me. We laughed it off as an accident but I noticed the small blush on his face. I was excited.” You pressed on each of his fingernails and wiggled his fingers in between your pointer and thumb.

“I thought that this was it, he liked me back. Our school dance came and everyone was asking out their dates for it. I thought he was going to ask me to go with him but that didn’t happen. He pulled me towards him in the middle of class with everyone watching us, a lot of the other girls were jealous of me because of it.” You noticed the chipped nails polished on his nails and began to scratch it off.

“He cupped my face and pulled me closer to him. We were going to kiss.” You stopped playing with Shinsous hand. Your hand falling onto the ground limply.

“He gripped my face and pushed me away saying “Did you really think id like you? You’re such a joke L/n.” ” You pulled away from Shinsou, your hand rested on your lap instead of anywhere near his.

“I felt so alone, so gross, so….fat. It hurt but it was made worse because it was in front of everyone. Everyone saw how he treated me and made fun of me. No one did anything, not even as I ran away crying. Instead, I got comments about my weight. I got called some really mean names that day and the following. I didn’t go to my school’s dance, I didn’t want to be made fun of again.” You didn’t hear a thing from Shinsou. He just sat there looking at you like you were crazy.

“Their assholes.”

“I know.” You looked at him and smiled. He came closer to you, grabbing your hand from your lap and interlacing them in one another.

“But I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t care is a better way to phrase it. People can have their opinions, either nice or mean. I can’t dictate that.” Shinsou scooted closer to you as you continued talking.

“But I can dictate the way I think about myself and the people I want to be around me.” Shinsou couldn’t help himself anymore.

He leaned in towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. His lips gently pressing onto your own and unmoving. You felt your heart fluttered but it quickly turned to amusement. He just pressed his lips to yours and wasn’t moving, He wasn’t moving. He had his eyes closed and pressed into you, it was beginning to bruise your lips. You pulled back slightly and looked at his face. He had his lips still puckered and his eyes closed. You giggled and quickly kissed him again before he pulled away. You on the other hand did move and deepened the kiss.

Shinsous heart soured as you kissed him back, his lips no longer hurting but feeling gently caressed by your own. He couldn’t help the small gasps that escape him nor the way he pulled you closer to him. When the two of you parted, Shinsou looked at you with sleepy eyes. He wanted this and he wanted more.

“I like you L/n.”

“I like you too Shinsou.”

#shinsou fic #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x reader #shinsou x chubby reader #shinso x you #shinso x reader #shinso x chubby reader #shinsou x f! reader #shinsou x female reader #shinso x f! reader #f! reader #chubby reader #chubby fem reader #mha #bnha #shinsou bnha #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #bnha shinso x reader #mha shinso x reader

[drarryangels]

Prompts are open! Professors!Drarry, husbands, one tells students all about his husband. No one knows who that is. Until one day sth clues them in. And everyone's like - WHAAAA?! Bets are lost. McG is amused.

Hello there! This is the oldest prompt in my ask box, haha! So sorry it took like two years to get around to this.... *blushes*

Anyways, I hope you like!

-

“That will be all for today,” Harry says. “You can have the rest of the period to work.”

He leans back against his desk and watches the scramble of students trying to pair off with their friends. He smiles and shakes his head. Every day is the same. Gloriously, marvelously, wonderfully the same.

“Professor Potter?”

Harry looks over to one of his students, a slight teenage girl with her hair tied up into three ponytails. “Yes, Miss Wimblefon?”

She twirls a curl of hair around her finger and smiles up at him. “I had a question for you. About the assignment.”

Harry sighs and waves his hand. “Ask away.”

“You said that the enchantment only works if the user is truly in love,” she begins.

Harry nods and folds his arms. “Precisely. Which is why you are only working on the theoretical application of this spell, and not trying to use it on your classmates.”

Jane giggles. “I’m in love. Can I give it a try?”

Harry stands up and brushes off the front of his robes. “You most certainly may not, Miss Wimblefon. As much as I am pleased by your interest in the subject, it’s not appropriate nor safe to produce the enchantment even when one is truly in love, and I have the strong suspicion that you are not.”

Jane’s cheeks go red. “Well, what does the spell do anyways?” she says, crossing her arms and huffing.

“An excellent question,” Harry says. “An easily answered one if you do your reading.” He holds his hand out to the classroom, and she gives him one last glare before turning on her heel and taking a seat with Mildred Daney.

*

“Merlin,” Harry says, dropping down onto the bed and spreading his arms out wide.

“What is it?” Draco asks, emerging from the bathroom and leaning against the door frame with his toothbrush stuck out of his mouth. “Jane flirting with you again?”

Harry groans and rolls over on the bed. “How did you know?”

Draco disappears to spit out his toothpaste, and then returns, smelling of mint and citrus shampoo. He climbs up the bed and drops down beside Harry, curling an arm around his waist and pressing his nose in the back of his neck.

“Because she’s the exact same with me,” Draco sighs. “Always playing with that bloody hair of hers.”

“She’s a sixth year already,” Harry says to the wall. “Isn’t this a bit odd?”

Draco nuzzles in closer behind Harry. “Someone should tell her that if she keeps tugging at that hair, it will all fall out by the time she’s twenty.”

Harry laughs. “Don’t you dare, Draco. Her mother will tear down the school.”

Draco bumps his head between Harry’s shoulder blades. “Well, then it will be McGonagall’s problem.”

Harry twists and rolls over to face Draco, his face smiling and bright. “You know,” Harry says, touching their noses together. “I think you may be right.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes,” Harry says and pushes himself on top of Draco, knees on either sides of his hips and arms around his shoulders. “Get Jane out of our hair.” He sets his head down on Draco’s chest. “And while we’re waiting for her mother to Floo in, we can plan our joint funeral, hm?”

“Bit early, isn’t it?” Draco says. He lifts his hands and rubs them up and down Harry’s back.

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Harry says. He lifts his head up and grins at Draco. “In fact, it may be a bit late if McGonagall has anything to do with it.”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry says, and drops his head back down on Draco’s chest.

Draco is so warm, so soft. Nice. A weight tethering him to the ground, to sanity.

“Good night,” Harry sighs.

Draco smacks his bum. “Get up and brush your teeth, you buffoon.”

Harry groans as Draco pushes him away, all the way off of the bed.

“Why?” Harry wails as he hits the ground with a great oof.

“Because I love you,” Draco says happily before sending a stinging jinx in the direction of Harry’s backside. “Very, very much.”

*

“Hello, Professor Potter,” Jane says. She’s twirling her hair again.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Harry says over his breakfast potatoes. “May I help you with something?”

“Yes,” she says, looking rather pleased with herself with her chin all drawn up. “The book says that the enchantment provides a binding connection to the user’s true love. One that doesn’t break until death.”

Harry squirts some ketchup onto his plate. “Almost correct.”

“What?”

Harry picks up a piece of bacon. “Almost correct. The enchantment doesn’t die after death. That’s why it’s so complicated. It must be a mutual bonding, and both parties must be truly in love with the other. And the bond doesn’t break after death, which opens up a certain realm of questioning about putting intention behind spells.”

Jane shakes her head hard. “What does it benefit though? Why engage in such complicated and dangerous magic? What does it do?”

Harry smiles and sets his bacon down. “Miss Wimblefon, would you mind continuing this conversation during our class time? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”

Draco snorts beside him.

Jane glances over at Draco briefly and narrows her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Draco looks up from his hash and stares at her with wide grey eyes. Too wide to really be attractive, people have said before. Harry likes them.

“Right then,” she says, and runs off.

“Bless you,” Harry says, linking his pinkie into Draco’s.

Draco raises his eyebrows. “Harry.”

“Yes, my love?” Harry smiles at him. Innocently, very innocently.

“Why are you teaching verus amor est alliges duplicia?” Draco glares at him, and squeezes hard with his pinkie finger. “That’s extremely complicated magic.”

Harry shrugs. “No reason at all.”

Draco sighs and winds the rest of his fingers through Harry’s. “Oh, Harry.”

Harry grins. “Oh, Draco.”

*

“It’s class time now,” Jane says.

Harry glances up at his charmed clock over the archway in his office. “Not quite, Miss Wimblefon.”

“Well,” she says, already sitting down in the chair opposite him. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lecture, so I thought I’d pop in early.”

“Right,” Harry says. It’s probably best to get this over with. Maybe if Harry answers all her questions, she’ll leave him alone. “Go on then.”

“I’m curious to know what is the purpose of the spell.” She folds her hands on Harry’s desk and leans forward.

Harry pushes his chair back slightly. “It’s an irreversible connection with the person who loves you most in the world. It links you together. So, theoretically, if one half of the pairing was hurt, the other would know it. If something good has happened to one, the other feels their happiness.”

“So they share feelings?” Jane asks.

“No,” Harry says. “It’s not sharing. It’s just a sense. An added knowledge.”

“And what else?” she demands.

“It can act as a protective charm, if in dire circumstances,” Harry says. “A bubble of defense, if the two are physically close.”

Jane sighs and kicks her loafers on the floor. “It sounds fine, but not worth the magic.”

Harry smiles. He’d felt the same way when he’d first learned of it. “Well it’s more than that. The best part about it is the connection. It is difficult to explain, even for those who have experienced it. It is a joining of skin, two souls being one, a linking of magic. It is being melded with another person, body, soul, and mind. It is having them with you, always.”

Jane’s mouth opens a bit. “Er. Professor Potter?”

“Yes?” Harry asks pleasantly.

“Are you bonded to someone?” Jane asks, looking scared and excited all at once.

“To my husband, yes,” Harry says, and smiles at her.

Jane falls out of her chair.

*

It takes another four days after Jane faints in Harry’s office before she comes to confront him again.

“You’re completely oblivious to it,” Draco is saying to Harry. “He has an excellent aptitude for Potions. He’s very talented, really.”

They’re in greenhouse four, so Draco can collect clippings for a potion in his classes the next day. Harry hovers by Draco’s side, not doing anything particularly useful.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Please, you should see him in Defense. I might as well transfigure him into a hippo, and see if it changes the results.”

Draco touches a hand to his chest. “My, my, Harry. I think you’re spending too much time with me.”

Harry pushes at him. “I know I am. Thank Merlin for it.”

“Professor Potter?”

Harry trips and nearly stumbles over into a collection of finger eating bushes before Draco grabs his sleeve and hauls him up.

“Hello, Miss Wimblefon,” Draco says coolly. “May I ask you what you’re doing out of bed at this hour?”

Her eyes pass over Draco. “Professor Potter, I have more questions for you.”

Harry is still choking on his breath. “Er. Yes. Miss Wimblefon, can we resume this conversation at a later time?”

“No,” she says, and comes to stand next to him. “Carry on with your walk. I’ll simply join in.”

They have no choice but to walk.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Jane begins immediately as they’re leaving the greenhouse. “Especially not to a man.”

Draco throws an elbow in Harry’s direction and raises both his eyebrows in question. What is she talking about? he mouths. Harry shakes his head. He has no idea.

“So you’ve performed verus amor est alliges duplicia.”

Draco straightens up beside Harry. He chooses not to look over at him for fear of being burned to the ground with the look on Draco’s face.

“Quite,” Harry says.

“With whom?”

Harry stops. “What do you mean with whom?”

He looks over at Draco, who looks just as bewildered as Harry does, his irritation at Harry’s curriculum forgotten.

Jane stops too and looks back at them. “Who are you married to?”

Harry could fall over laughing.

Draco speaks before he can. “Miss Wimblefon. What is my name?”

Jane finally looks at him. “Professor Potter?”

“Yes.” Draco says very slowly. “My name is Draco Potter.”

Jane shakes her head, still looking confused. “So?”

Draco huffs and flicks his hair off his cheekbones. “So I share a last name with Harry Potter. Who do you think I am?”

“Potter is a common name, it’s not weird that you both have....” Her eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Draco snaps. “Merlin and Arthur, these children get dimmer every year. Potter’s a common name. Honestly!”

Jane turns and takes off running up to the castle.

Harry lets out a breath and holds out his hand for Draco to take. “I think you’re right, love. They really are getting dimmer.”

Draco takes his hand, gentle. “Why did we choose this career path anyways?”

Harry shrugs and they begin the walk up to the castle together. “Good pay?”

Draco blows out a hard laugh. “Good pay, indeed.”

*

Jane Wimblefon tells the entire school that Professor Harry Potter and Professor Draco Potter are married at breakfast the next day.

Harry drops his head into his hands and Draco rolls his eyes. Headmistress McGonagall stands up briskly and walks right out of the Great Hall. Hagrid bursts out laughing before knocking over the entire front table, and Professor Flitwick along with it.

The students go into a frenzy, jumping up and running from table to table, expressions of shock painted over their faces.

“Forget dim,” Draco says, looking out over the chaos. “This generation is entirely brain dead.”

Harry laughs so hard he gets marmalade in his hair.

#ask box #prompt #drarry #fic #fanfic #essentially plotless #fluff #domestic #professor harry #professor draco #husbands #hogwarts #mine #my work #draco malfoy #harry potter

[dothwrites]

15.20 coda--at the end of the world

author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3 

---

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller

---

Castiel opens his eyes. 

All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers. 

He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color. 

“Cas.” 

Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice. 

He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave. 

Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here. 

Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...

“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?” 

Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy. 

“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story. 

---

For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words. 

That’s not who I am. 

A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets. 

“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...” 

“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking. 

“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.” 

It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon. 

“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.” 

Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what. 

“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?” 

---

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems. 

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed. 

He does make one stop, however. 

When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders. 

“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.” 

“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...” 

“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his. 

“So what happened?” 

---

In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack. 

“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.” 

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved. 

Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses. 

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem. 

“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle? 

“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...” 

Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does. 

Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out. 

There’s work to be done. 

---

Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention. 

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” 

A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human. 

“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.” 

It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back. 

When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?” 

Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.” 

“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.” 

Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.” 

“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.” 

Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing. 

---

Bobby is wrong. 

There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him. 

There’s still time. 

There’s still time, until there isn’t.

---

Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt. 

His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow. 

With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--” 

“Dean,” Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him. 

It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon. 

It’s always too soon. 

“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?” 

It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer. 

“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.” 

---

Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him. 

It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology. 

It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care. 

He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--

Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier. 

Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere. 

---

Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before. 

He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around. 

Dean Winchester is there. 

Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world. 

Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move. 

Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.” 

Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.” 

Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm. 

“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”

Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.” 

Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.” 

Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them. 

“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--” 

“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?” 

“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.” 

“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.” 

“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his. 

Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more. 

“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.” 

Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them. 

They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him. 

“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?” 

Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.” 

They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing. 

“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”

“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest. 

They have all the time they want.

---

Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed. 

Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure. 

Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s. 

“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.” 

“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say. 

After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?” 

“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition. 

Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought. 

“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails. 

Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him. 

---

The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place. 

A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.” 

Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles. 

“Dean,” he says. 

Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo. 

“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs. 

“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.” 

Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to. 

“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?” 

Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.” 

“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him. 

You are valued. You are loved. 

He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies. 

Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling. 

There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years. 

There is so much work to do. 

But they have time. They have all the time they need. 

---

“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

#spn spoilers #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #saileen #saileen fic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #coda fix #15.20 coda #fix it #fix it fic #because fuck the finale that's why #do not take this fic as agreement with what happened #but this is the only way my brain will accept it #unbeta'd because we die like men in this house #dothwrites

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

I dunno if it's too late to make requests (and u can ignore this message if it is) but I have this idea that I'm completely incapable of writing, I was hoping for maybe..some kind of fantasy scenario where human reader meets fae or siren Taehyung once while they were both children and, maybe they kinda pinky promise to marry one another, only for her to have forgotten about the whole ordeal with time, maybe assuming it was all just her imagination, and years later into her adulthood he comes back, having never forgotten the reader? You can change this however you see fit in order to make it more your style, and smut isnt necessary of you don't want to add it in..😅 💕

You had heard about the stories. Heard about him. Perhaps that’s why you walked into the woods so late at night, with a full moon lighting your way. To see if they were true, or because you already believed them and wanted to see him. The woods, however, were empty and what an unsuspecting fellow would call normal. Undismayed, you sat by the big Oak tree until you felt your eyelids be weighed down from the weariness. For you were only eight and the night was growing older than you. From that point on, you were not sure if you dreamt of the boy or if he shook you awake, but you remembered the interaction like it was yesterday.

“You’re waiting for me.” Not a question but you still took it as one.

“No, I’m waiting for the fairy.”

The boy chuckled. He laid down next to you, eyes sparkling in the dark as if they were luminescent. “I like you. You’re pretty. It’s only why I appeared.”

You thought about all your classmates and your cousin’s friends. None looked like that boy. “I don’t know you.”

“Oh.” He shuffled closer until he could reach to extend a hand to you. “You can call me Taehyung.” You took his hand, introducing yourself as well. “I’m new here. Did I by any chance bother you or your folks? I apologize.”

You shrugged, looking away, still trying to catch a glimpse of the alleged creature that playfully appeared here and there to tease the townspeople. “You’re not bothering me. I don’t know about anyone else, though…”

“Haha.” The boy laughed in a forced way yet it felt genuine. Like he had indeed enjoyed your remark but laughter wasn’t a sound he could make by his nature. “I really like you. You’re very pretty,” he repeated. “Do you want to stay here with me forever?”

You eyed him from your peripheral vision. “You mean like… marry you?”

He frowned for a beat, analyzing your words. And then his face lit up— quite literally. “Yeah!” he chirped. “Yeah, something like that.”

You had never been proposed to before. Sure, you knew about all the boys that had a crush on you at school, and you knew about how cute you were because your parents and their friends always told you so. But Taehyung was better than all of them combined. “Okay,” you replied easily.

The young boy seemed so happy, reached out to grab a piece of your hair. And after a couple of sparks appeared, the strand had been cut off and was trapped between his fingers.

“Hey! What—”

Taehyung brought the strand to the side of his neck, pressing it against his skull, and with a couple more sparks, it was connected with his own hair. Standing out from his locks yet looking like he had grown it himself. “Now we’re married,” he said, speaking the word as if it was foreign to him.

“No,” you immediately interjected. “That’s not how people get married.”

“It’s not?”

You shook your head. “We need to walk down the aisle and have the pastor say I pronounce you husband and wife and kiss.”

“Kiss…” Taehyung gave it some thought. And then he snapped his fingers. “That’s right. We need to kiss.”

“And we can’t get married yet because we’re just children,” you continued to speak your wisdom to the confused boy.

“So when can we?”

“Hm…” You rubbed your chin because you had seen people do it on TV when they tried to think hard. “When we’re old. Like, old like my aunt! She is getting married next month.”

And the boy nodded obediently. “I can wait that long.” For your weird kind of ceremony. For his, you needn’t wait at all. All he needed was… a kiss. He leaned in, lips pursed and going straight for yours. And you gasped, getting up and running away, out of the woods, far from the boy you had just promised to marry.

You never saw him again. Which is why you were inclined to believe it was all just your childhood imagination going wild. Sometimes you got a very sudden urge to think about him, like he was mentally intruding on your life. But the older you got, the less you believed in fairies. And you got old… old like your aunt. And it was your turn to get married now.

Waiting in the dressing room alone to stare at your reflection in that mirror and take a few last, deep breaths before walking out for the nuptial rite, you didn’t expect to be disturbed by a strange and deep voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Upon turning around, you saw a man. A novel man. Handsome and somewhat scary as he glared at you and charged towards your spot. “What?” you choked out before clearing your throat. “I- I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here.”

“You’re about to walk down that aisle and have the pastor say I pronounce you husband and wife and kiss that man?” he spoke in a breath, pointing to the door.

You were frozen, looking into his shiny eyes as if you were entranced. Not sure how to react in this odd situation, yet something about the man intriguing you. “Um… yeah?”

“You can’t!” he gasped. Eyes so wide and pleading you silently. “We were supposed to do that.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m your husband.” It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, not in the slightest, but he seemed so confident of it he almost convinced you. “You’re mine, you can’t marry another man,” he insisted.

And right when you were about to open your mouth to tell him he was being insane, tell him you had no idea who he was and that he needed to get out, he called your name. Called your name in a way that was so fitting for it, like he was the only one who ever should be saying it. You paused, and you frowned. And you looked at him better. The man reached behind his neck and brought forward a strand of hair that didn’t match his own. Didn’t match because that was your hair. That dream… that dream hadn’t been a dream at all.

“I waited for you,” the boy-turned-man whispered, voice sounding as sad as his eyes looked. “I waited for as long as you needed. How can you do this to me?”

Your face was numb. And you shivered, shaking harder the more you let the realization sink in. “Tae- Taehyung?” you gulped. “You’re real?”

The man rushed to you, grabbed your face with both hands gently, fingers stroking your cheeks as if he knew tears were about to fall. “Of course. Who ever told you otherwise?”

You were lost for words, just staring into his eyes that were communicating more than you ever could. The boy from the woods had returned for you, just as promised. And now that he had you, he felt ready to finish what you two had started. This time, when he leaned in with his eyes closed and his lips on a straight line towards yours, you didn’t flinch, you didn’t pull or run away. Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it was just what was meant to happen. He kissed you and everything instantly changed. The bond completed. A bond unlike the mortal rituals you try to parody— that was a bond connecting your souls instead of a verbal agreement that could easily be broken by the human instability. And when he pulled away, you knew it, you felt it; you were indeed his and he was yours. Forever.

“Oh my God,” you mouthed. The feeling crushing you and making your mind race faster and faster. “Oh my— Fuck!” You were his and he was yours now. Forever. What would you do now? There was another man still waiting outside to marry you. “Fuck, fuck!”

“It’s alright,” Taehyung whispered, holding you tighter. Like he knew exactly what you were thinking about or could feel exactly what you felt. Perhaps he could. “Don’t worry. None of that will matter in a bit.”

He scooped your legs, lifting you up with ease you were certain no human being could possess. And he jumped out of the window and landed perfectly, even though that window was so high up. And you were in the woods within a blink of an eye, even though those woods were miles away. By that big, old Oak tree, where it all started. He was right, your meaningless mortal problems already appeared like so; you were with Taehyung now and it all seemed to make more sense than anything ever did in your life.

“You look so pretty,” the man spoke, drawing you back from your thoughts. “Like a fairy.” He chuckled, this time his laughter sounding better than the last. And then he kissed your cheek, and your neck, and it felt like each peck was gifting you whole years of life. “I’ve missed you. You never came to visit.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, flustered.

“It’s okay.” He was calm, looking at your eyes that you didn’t even know yet that they shined like his. “We have eternity ahead of us to be together.”

“Eternity?”

He chuckled again, music to your ears. And he leaned in to bite your bottom lip playfully. “Don’t you know, honey? Time flows strangely when you’re married to a fae.”

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #kim taehyung #request #taehyung #v #drabble #fluff #fantasy #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #bts drabble #bts fluff #fae taehyung

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Undiagnosed Autism-spectrum disorder in The Michells Vs The Machines

I'm sure that more well educated people have put two and two together in this film but I really, really want to put my own spin on it from my experience. For me, as an aspie, film is one of my biggest interests. I love studying and more than anything I love watching and rewatching films. My latest favorite movie was one that I just watched last night for my family movie night, The Michells Vs The Machines. I also went 17 years of my life asking myself the same question that both Rick and his daughter ask each other, what is wrong with him/her?

Well, I'll tell you, in my firmly undiagnosed autistic opinion for far too long, that this family is full of people with undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder. When I was watching it with my parents my mom made the comment that "the dad was a jerk" and maybe "he just didn't love his daughter enough to let her be her own person." I thought that was so not seeing the bigger picture even though it was only fifteen minutes into the film. I have felt like Katie so much with my own dad. My dad is a computer nerd and a physics major for those of you that don't talk to me very often. That means in laminas terms that he's extremely smart. Way smarter than I will ever be in my entire life. Both of my parents are insanely smart in their own rights. My mom is a CPA accountant. But that isn't what I wanted to talk about here. I want to discuss the effect of undiagnosed autism and what it can do to a whole family when they all have it and just don't know that they do. This will probably go on for quite some time so you may stop here or read below the cut because this also has the probablity of getting super, duper personal.

We'll start with Katie! To me, Katie is one of the most relatable characters that I have ever come across. She's a film nerd, which alone has made her supremely relatable as somebody who is thinking about going into a degree in film studies. I am more of a critic of film than somebody who wants to make her own film but nonetheless, there were SO many little moments that I related to. The first thing that I personally noticed and related to was the stimming technique that Katie has. She chews on her hoodie strings. As somebody who has chewed on the drawstrings of hoodies far too often long before I was officially put into the Aspergers box. Aspies are also known to stick with one "special interest" for the rest of their lives if it's one that is wide enough and varied enough to make it applicable. For Katie, that's film. For me that's animation. I appreciated that little detail of most of her dialogue being references to other films because as a lover of films and movies in general I could go for days on just fumes and movie references that nobody else understands. The little things from her hair being perpetually messy (same that's a whole ass mood like I just learned over quarantine how to tye my own hair back), only having one earring in her ear at all times, the way that she dresses and draws on her own hands, this was just me when I was first in high school. I was one of the few people that wore shorts underneath all my skirts/dresses. Everyone who knew about looked at me like I had grown a third eyeball.

Aaron, the younger brother, also just oozes spectrum lil buddy out of his every pore from his being. I do think that they should have picked somebody capable of doing a bit of a younger sounding voice (I know what they were going for, but like Ben Schwartz has become a huge deal in both voice acting and live action before switching mediums.) His special interest is actually quite a common one, he loves dinosaurs. I've met a bunch of people on the spectrum that are fascinated by dinos and what they meant for the world as well as the universe as a whole. To me, there was one scene specifically that was the scene where Katie was lightly teasing him when they were going to the half assed dinosaur extravaganza. For me, this was SO relatable because both of my parents will mess with me about my interests most of the time it's when we go to Disneyland, they'll tell me that we actually aren't going to land of magic but to Timbuckto (hopefully one day they'll say some place else just to switch things up.) I related so hard to Aaron's protesting and whining in this scene since that is always my reaction to doing something that I want to do but get told that I can't do that thing.

Linda is more of your traditional mom but I think that she's on the spectrum as well. Just a more... normalized version as opposed to her family. She's able to be a teacher, she's able to interact somewhat normally around her neighbors. If anything, she reminded me of my own mom. This independent, takes nobody's trash (especially not her husband's), strong minded, and amazing mother who is completely in control of everything. She knows the special interests of her children and is constantly thinking of what will make them happy. Whether it be taking a detour for something dinosaur related, reminding her daughter that her dad loves her no matter what, and even something as simple as watching something that her daughter made and put her heart and soul into. I can't tell you how many times my mom has watched something with me. She watched my first anime Soul Eater with me when I was 12 and ever since then has been trying to get me to watch other shows with her. She's a lot like Linda, your loving, but firm mother who just wants her family to work things out.

Whew boy. This one is going to be probably where I cry. Comparing my dad to Rick is... something that I did consistently when I was watching the film. He's the strong but silent type usually, unless your me and he's just this constant annoyance when I'm trying to do something. He could be seen as just a "Jerk" but I think that is the undiagnosed aspie talking. Rick and Katie just struggle so hard to see eye to eye because their special interests can't intersect to save their lives. This, this hurt me because so often I struggle to relate to my dad. Especially when he talks to me about computers or physics. Now I took physics but without having been in quarantine and having him as my live in tutor I would have failed, not gotten an A. This has resulted me in saying things that I don't mean in the heat of the moment when we do argue. It doesn't happen nearly as much as it used to back when I was in middle school but when it happened it was because of one thing. I lied. I used to lie a lot because I felt so unworthy of being his daughter because on my best days I am not technically smart. You want to know how many nations of the world there were in 1991 when the original Animaniacs was airing? You want to hear my Dot Warner impression? Did you ever wonder how to recognize a specific voice when your watching anime? Have you ever had to watch a panel of your favorite anime voice actor just to laugh at something? No, well I did. But ever since I have started taking a quarter off from community college I have realized something. I am not technically smart. I struggle at learning the rules for math. My dad can do this with his eyes closed but me, I struggle and look like a complete moron. It took years for my dad and I to see eye to eye. Sometimes I still wonder if I was the product of some laboratory experiment of what would happen if two intelligent people came together, fell in love, and expecting that the daughter was smart I was the reject. Watching this movie with my dad I saw so much of my relationship with him on the screen. Struggling to relate to one another, fighting and getting into arguments about petty things, and not being able to be in the same room as one another without heated words because I didn't get him.

The scene that I related to the most when it was in terms of how much Katie just doesn't understand her dad was after he was nabbed by the machines. When Aaron asked her why she said those things to their dad and her simple answer was "I don't know." This. This right here was when I saw me. So many times I've gotten into heated arguments with my dad when he has simply annoyed me at the wrong time and I've just blown up in his face. Then I regret my actions and not know how to apologize for losing my temper with him because "I don't know" just doesn't seem like a nearly acceptable answer. I felt this in my soul because it happened especially often before I was diagnosed.

When I was diagnosed, things started to get better with my dad and I. We haven't had a fight in nearly four years now. He watches cartoons with me now to try and relate to me, it's mostly Pinky and The Brain but it's more than I could have ever asked for. I love my dad so much, more than anything in the entire world. This movie is so, so good at telling a story about how a family of undiagnosed aspie's and people on the spectrum struggle to relate to one another because their special interests are different.

Special interests and family's are especially difficult and I applaud this movie so loud because of the way that it was able to treat the subject matter with integrity and honesty. I'm sorry if this analysis got a little bit long in the toof but thank you for sticking with me! I really hope that if you watched the film you loved my analysis.

#the mitchells vs the machines #aspergers #movie analysis #denki shut up #nobody cares about your emotional backstory #long post #this took me over an hour because I kept crying

[mrs-march-ahs]

Taking Care of Kai Anderson in Prison

I think this is kind of a weird idea, but I wanted to write it anyway!

Warnings- smut, manipulation, Daddy kink, Kai Anderson. Words- 3k

Summary- Blue hair and bearded Kai is put in prison, and it’s your job to shave his head and beard because, being a violent prisoner, he isn’t trusted with a razor. He plays mind games with you and finds out exactly what he wants to know, and uses it to his advantage.

----

You gather your necessary items and walk down the prison corridor, scanning your badge to open every double door on the way. You walk towards the door of the room you need to be in, and you look through the one-way mirror to look at the prisoner inside. Kai Anderson, the leader of a murderous cult, just went through all the paperwork and confessions needed to be locked away for the rest of his life. The guards inside hold him very firmly and get ready to sit him down. It’s a very high security room, multiple guards outside looking in, a secured metal chair with hand restraints on either side, and a locked door. You scan your badge to enter and he immediately looks at you but says nothing. This has been your job for multiple months and after years of training, being around dangerous men and convicted criminals wasn’t new to you. But something about his relaxed face, and his body looking so comfortable despite all the restraints, made you nervous. Your job so far at the prison is to take care of the vulnerable, but this man didn’t look it. You walk over to the table and lay down everything you’re holding: an electric shaver, shaving cream, knife and a towel, to try and take away as much of his identity as possible. He needed taking care of, and being in the high security wing, he wasn’t trusted with a razor. The guards finish tying his hands to the cuffs on the arm rests of the seat and look at you.

“Want us to do his feet too?”, one of the guards says, motioning to the similar cuffs at the feet of the chair.

Kai looks over at you calmly and raises his eyebrow, asking the same question.

“No don’t bother”, you pick up the towel and walk over to him. “What will he do? Trip me up?”.

This silly comment earns a slight smile from Kai and he looks at the guards. They point to the one-way mirror and walk outside, to remind you that they will be watching in case you need them. They leave and shut the heavy metal door behind them. You wrap the towel around Kai’s neck and slide your hands on his shoulders, smoothing it out before picking up the shaver and running your fingers through his greasy blue hair.

“I need to shave your head, is that okay?”, unsure whether he knew what he came in here for. He slowly nods once and continues looking ahead of him at the mirror. You take a breath and run the shaver through his thick hair, watching it fall on his shoulders and on the floor. After a few strips, the side of his head is all shaved and you look at him in the mirror. He turns his head slightly to get a better view, then looks straight forward again, completely unmoved by what you’re doing. The stillness in his face and the silence in the room unsettles you. You continue shaving him, shuffling around him, trying to be careful and thorough but also wanting this to end as soon as possible. He notices the effect he has on you and speaks up.

“When my sister was little and she had to get her first haircut, she sat and sobbed, she was so scared”, he begins telling you, looking himself dead in the eye. You glance at him in the mirror and nod to show you’re listening.

“So, I took some scissors and chopped some of my own hair off, to show her it wouldn’t hurt”.

You smile at his anecdote and look at him in the mirror, and he looks back at you. His eyes pierce through you and his serious expression doesn’t change. The stare makes you turn back to his head and shave the last few strips of head he has left.

“That’s sweet”, you say softly. “You’re a good big brother”.

You finish shaving him and rub your hand over his now bald head. He nods at your comment and tilts his head to the sides and looks at his new cut, with his face still as serious as before and eyebrows furrowed slightly. You watch him inspect his new look and mix up the shaving cream.

“They say that a girl’s relationship with her older brother is more important than the one with her dad”, you walk over to him, stirring the shaving cream and nod in agreement. You make eye contact in the mirror and you add, “I’m close with my brother, I can tell him anything”. Though you knew that anything you told the prisoners could be used against you, you couldn’t help but feel so awkward that you wanted to say anything to keep the conversation going, and not bring back the deafening silence. You lean down at his side and begin putting the shaving cream on his face.

“And your dad?”, he asks quietly. “What’s your relationship with him like?”.

A million thoughts go through your mind, debating whether to tell him anything. Although he had no right to know, it didn’t seem like a big deal to tell him a few things. As you contemplate your next move, you try to focus on the task at hand and why you’re here in the first place, but you’re interrupted when Kai turns his face to look at you. His deep black eyes look into your soul. It seems like he already knew everything there is to know about you, even though he just met you. You inhale nervously and turn your focus back on putting cream on his face.

“It’s good”, you say quietly, which prompts a single amused exhale from the criminal. You resist the temptation to question him and instead walk over to get the knife from the table.

“Why are you lying to me?”, he asks, smiling. You take the knife and squat next to him. You can’t help but give him a puzzled look and feel even more uncomfortable at him smiling than looking serious. You shave one strip up his neck and his jaw and wipe it on the towel around his shoulders.

“I was honest with you, why aren’t you being honest with me?”, he asks quietly but firmly, looking at you in the mirror, inspecting your body language. “You have Daddy issues, don’t you?”, he states, confidence dripping off every word and the question solely rhetorical.

“I said it’s good”, you reply defensively, trying to not give him satisfaction in knowing anything about you, especially without you telling him directly.

“Don’t worry, I know what it’s like to have a shit father”.

You turn his face to look at you while you carefully run the knife along his neck, curving at his Adam’s apple. You focus on looking at his lips and chin while shaving him, but you can feel the burning stare right into your focused eyes. Looking down at you, letting you shave around his lips, he stays silent but smirks slightly. After you wipe the blade, his mouth opens once again, and his words catch you off guard.

“You just want a Daddy to protect you, hm?”

His filthy and overly confident words surprise you into looking at him. A combination of his sly smirk and his black eyes staring at you make your insides burn. You feel your cheeks flush and try to look away from him, but you simply can’t. This time you could tell the question wasn’t rhetorical, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

“You want Daddy to take care of you?”.

You stand up off the floor, not breaking eye contact, and breathe in a wobbly breath. You attempt to open your mouth, but you know no words will come out, so instead you clench your jaw, and remember who’s in charge. You blink hard and look away from him, taking the towel off from his shoulders and wipe his face clean, and then put it aside. When you return to your spot by his side, he glances over at your watch.

“We still have 7 minutes until o’clock, when I assume you have to go. Let me show you a trick”.

You look him up and down intrigued, completely restrained by his wrists and wonder what he could do. He bends his wrist upwards as much as the restrains will let him and sticks out his pinky finger. You squat in front of him and link your pinky with his, earning a smile from him.

“We’re linked now. If you lie, I’ll know.”

You nod slowly a few times and quickly look over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, feeling security at the fact that guards are watching you through the one view mirror. When you look back at Kai, he smirks at you softly and leans his head down, not breaking eye contact.

“Do you feel safer to know that they’re watching us?”, he asks, making you inhale nervously. Although it’s your fault for making it obvious, the prisoner isn’t meant to be he’s being watched. You take a deep breath and decide to test him.

“It’s just a mirror, I was looking at yo-”

“Weren’t you listening?”, he snaps, clearly aggravated by your lie. He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath before repeating himself, even more condescending this time. His voice was barely raised but your heart immediately starts pounding faster. You felt so naked and vulnerable in front of this man that you wondered if he could see your heart beating right through your chest.

“If you lie, I’ll know”.  

You furiously nod at him, not daring to take your eyes off him this time.

“What are you feeling right now?”.

You inhale sharply and take a big gulp before answering as honestly as you could.

“Terror”, you reply quietly. He exhales once in amusement, and continues to burn you with his stare, thinking of another thing to ask you. But before he has the chance to think of anything else, you decide to be brutally honest with him. Perhaps more than you should be.

“Can I be honest?”, you whisper at him, looking up at him with puppy eyes, trying to control your face to maintain as blank of an expression as you can. He nods once and waits patiently for you to continue. The second that question comes out of your mouth, your stomach fills with regret, knowing that you shouldn’t say anything more. Although every bone in your body knows that this is a bad idea, you can’t help but look at his strong veiny hands and melt inside.

“The worst part a-about you isn’t the terror”, you begin. His eyebrows come closer together in intrigue.

“It’s the arousal”. You can physically see his ego grow larger as he listens to your heart-felt confession and laughs breathily, letting your words loiter in the air for a few seconds before responding.

“I’m not sure I believe you”, he says, slightly shaking his head. “Prove it”. Your eyes widen and you blink slowly not sure what he means. The warmth coming from his strong hand spreads through your body and lingers on your thighs and your heat.

“I’m not sure what you mean”. He listens to you and sighs. After a few seconds, he explains.

“Girls think they’re always so sneaky, they think all guys think about is sex, when in reality, we both know girls think about it even more”. You gulp and try to take your eyes off his, but feel like they’re glued onto him.

“When you sit on a man’s lap, he can feel the warmth coming from between your legs. But if you’re aroused, you can feel you pulsating”. You quiver your lips at his dirty words and fail to understand the simple instruction he is giving you.

“What does that mean? I mean- what do you want me to do?”. He leans closer to you, and with every approaching inch your legs almost give up. You wobble slightly when his face comes so close to yours that you can feel his breath.

“Sit on Daddy’s lap, and let him feel you throb”. The second the pet name leaves his lips, butterflies fill your tummy. Your pussy gushes out wetness at his quiet, almost secretive, tone of voice, and demands to be touched more than ever before.

For the first time in minutes, but what felt like hours, you manage to take your gaze off his hypnotizing eyes and flicker down at his lips. He was so close, if you wanted to, you could kiss him. Because of your multiple seconds of delay, he cockily reiterates, whispering to you, his lips inching even closer to yours.

“Unless of course, you’re not aroused, and you’re lying, again”. He says, emphasising the again. He of course could tell that you were not lying, but enjoyed toying with you. Although he only met you minutes ago, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Very slowly, you nod your head and looks at his pinky holding yours. Without breaking eye contact, he straightens out his pinky to let you go and sits up proudly, trying to scoot as far forward off the chair as possible, due to his wrist restraints.

You stand up, silently begging your knees not to give up, and gulp, before straddling one of his knees. He watches you closely as you hesitantly creep your hands to hold onto his shoulders, before pulling them away. He whispers discreet words of encouragement, “Hold onto Daddy”, making you lay your hands gently on his strong shoulders, and your pussy flutter at the name again. He hums in approval at the pulsating heart beat he feels on his knee from your throbbing heat. Without being told to, or rather, given permission to, you try to gently brush your pussy against him harder, hoping to get some release. The second Kai notices and feels your wetness through all the layers of fabric between you, he decides to help you, and suddenly bounce his leg. The unexpected movement against you makes you gasp slightly, and hold onto his broad shoulders. The sheer fact that such minimal touch earned such a strong reaction from you makes Kai smirk, and start bouncing his leg rhythmically. Every time you jump slightly at fall back against his knee, you end up griding across it, making friction against your clit. The pressing and kneading against your sensitive spot makes you bite your lip as all the arousal from your entire body goes straight between your legs. The shakiness in your knees and the tingle in your thighs runs towards your heat, making you practically drip on him. With a particularly hard bounce, you can’t help but gasp and hold onto his shoulders harder, closing your eyes in pleasure and looking down, too ashamed of how good he makes you feel. The overwhelming feeling forces a moan out of your lips, making Kai smirk. He watches you bite your lip and refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he’s making you feel, and feels threatened.

“Keep your eyes on Daddy”, he says, making you open your eyes instantly, and adding enough of a sensual touch to your pussy that you are almost brought over the edge. When you look at him, his black eyes lock you in and you have no trouble maintaining eye contact, despite slowly approaching your orgasm. Embarrassment flushes your cheek as Kai watches you, about to come undone from such a soft movement on his part, and having not masturbated in a while nor had sex, you were too stressed and focused on your job to take care of yourself. Maybe he was right, you needed a Daddy to do it for you. You grab onto his broad shoulders and completely let go, not grinding on him anymore, just letting him make you cum. Just as you hit your peak, Kai looks over at your hand on his shoulder, and without warning, he puts his bouncing to a halt and looks at you with a cheeky smirk.

“I think I have to go to my cell now”, he says with a cocky expression. You breathe heavily and look at him with pleading eyes, denied your finish. The realisation of what you just did hits you and you open your mouth slightly. As you slowly get off him, he continues looking at you clearly proud of himself. You stand in front of him for a few seconds before slowly walking to the door, and unlocking it, hoping your heart slows down before it jumps out of your throat. Or drops from between your legs. The smirk on Kai’s face widens when you look back at him, and then look at all the things on the table, deciding to leave it all there. You take a deep breath and smile at Kai, before putting your hand on the door handle, and whispering to him.

“Bye, Daddy”.

He smiles and nods at you and you step out of the door and shut it behind you, trying to regain control over your body after he made you feel like jelly. When you look over at the security guards standing in front of the one-way mirror, embarrassment burns you from the inside, and you flush completely red, having forgotten that you were watched the whole time. They look at you awkwardly and one of them puts his hand in his pocket, making your eyes glance at the bulge he’s trying to hide. The eye contact between the three of you silently agrees to never speak of this, and you walk away, trying to hide the smile covering your face.

You’re left to wonder how a man so restrained can have you completely wrapped around his finger. Later than day when you go back home, the second the front door shuts behind you, memories of Kai fling back to your mind, making you shiver. That night, when you lay in bed with your hand down your pants, all you can think about is your new Daddy.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs cult #american horror story cult #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x #kai anderson x reader #evan peters character #evan peters characters #ahs smut

[waitimcomingtoo]

My Youth Is Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader 

synopsis: in a world where you don’t begin to age until you meet your soulmate, Tom notices you started aging when he hasn’t 

Masterlist

“Time to wake up.”

You heard Toms voice right before you felt a pillow hit you in the head.

“Mmmmm. I was dreaming.” You whined as you aimlessly threw the pillow in the direction of his voice. You heard the soft thud of the pillow hitting his body as he caught it and knew you were in for trouble. Before you could move out of the way, Tom jumped on top of you and pressed the pillow against your head.

“Aw. About me?” He teased as he squished your face into the pillow. You groaned and pushed him off of you, hearing him laugh as he rolled onto his back beside you. You propped yourself up on your elbow and took the pillow from him, smacking him lightly over the head with it.

“I said dream, not nightmare.” You sassed him. Tom rolled onto his side and smiled softly as he moved a stray hair off your forehead with his pinky.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who made you coffee.” He drawled before reaching over and retrieving the cup of coffee he had set on your nightstand.

“Coffee?” You groggily sniffed the air as he placed the cup right underneath your nose, making your eyes widen in delight. “Coffee!”

“With almond milk and sugar.” He sang as you gratefully took the cup from him.

“You’re so good to me.” You said before taking a long sip. “No wonder I’ve kept you around all these years.”

“Mm.” He hummed sarcastically. “20 years and counting.”

“Yep. And you don’t look a day over 18.” You teased as you cupped his chin. Tom rolled his eyes at your comment, but he wasn’t really annoyed. The fact that neither of you had started aging yet worried him daily. Sure, it meant you hadn’t met your soulmate yet, but it also meant your soulmate wasn’t Tom. He tried to convince himself that maybe you both had started aging, you just didn’t realize since you saw each other every day. He knew he was a long shot, but it was all he had to hold on to.

“Shut up.” He faked a laugh. “Neither do you, baby face.”

“You’re the one with the baby face.” You shot back as you climbed out of bed.

“This baby face is gonna allow me to play teenagers as long as I want.” He called after you as you waltzed towards the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom.

“Until you meet your soulmate.” You stopped in the doorway and gave him a pointed look. “You know white men age like apples once they meet their soulmates.”

You kept your tone light, but you dreaded the day Toms face would show signs of aging. It wasn’t something you liked to talk about as your youthful appearance told you exactly what you didn’t want to hear; you hadn’t met your soulmate yet.

“Lucky for me, mine seems to be on another planet.” He sat on the edge of the bed and swung his feet as he watched you wash your face.

“Maybe shes off somewhere making coffee for my soulmate.” You chuckled from inside the bathroom.

“That would be funny.” He commented. “Maybe they’ve fallen in love with each other and forgotten all about us.”

“Imagine?” You laughed as you began to apply your makeup. “What would we do then?”

“We’d have to be together, I guess.” Tom forced a laugh as he tried to sound like he was into kidding, when in reality he was completely serious.

“You wish.” You paused applying your mascara and winked at him from the bathroom. He smiled sadly and shrugged, but you missed it entirely.

“Yeah.” He mumbled as you shut the bathroom door to get changed. “I wish.”

Tom pouted and looked at his hands, a sinking feeling finding a home in his tummy. He hated being reminded that you were eventually going to meet someone else and grow old with them. He wanted to stay in your youthful bubble as long as he possibly could. The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts as you walked down the hallway that connected the bathroom to your bedroom. You were in your work clothes now, minus your heels.

“There she is.” Tom smiled at you. “Going for the pencil skirt, I see.”

“I just want to look good in case my soul mate decided to take a desk job.” You shrugged as you slipped into your pumps.

“So that’s what a guy has to do to get your attention?” Tom raised as eyebrow. “Get a desk job?”

“Uh huh.” You bit your tongue between your teeth and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I find actors so boring.”

“I bet you do. How about I take you out tonight? I know your boss has been on your case lately.” Tom asked as he peered up at you from his seated position on the bed. He rested his hands on your hips and drummed his thumbs on your waistline.

“I would like that.” You smiled as combed your fingers through his hair. “It’s a date.”

“A date.” He nodded, leaning into the palm of your hand. You winked at him again and checked your watch, eyes widening at what you saw.

“I’m running late.” You sighed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” He waved at you gently as you slipped your arms away from his neck.

“Muah.” You bent down and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, knowing how much he didn’t like it.

Or so he claimed.

Tom scrunched his nose and wiped the kiss off, really only concerned with getting the lipstick off his cheek.

“Give me a real one, why don’t you.” He jokingly called after you, but once again meant it in it’s entirety.

“Maybe I will.” You called back before shutting the front door.

You arrived at work on time, much to your relief. You greeted the secretary and picked up the paperwork, noticing the pike was a little bigger than expected.

“Is this all for me?” You asked with a tight smile as you collected the stack of files.

“I’m sorry.” The secretary shook her head. “Mr. Brighton dropped them off last night. He specifically asked that you do them.”

“This is the company’s budget.” You realized as you thumbed through the filed. “That’s his job, not mine.”

“Are you surprised?” She laughed sadly. “I haven’t seen him doing his own job since I started here.”

“I better get started if I want to make it home on time.” You sighed. “Have a good one.”

“You too.” She called after you as you made your way to your desk. Along the way, you greeted the girls you worked with.

“Stacey, I called the IT department and told them about the wifi issue. Thanks for letting me know.” You smiled at your coworker.

“Hi Emma.” You waved and set a few folders down in her desk. “Here are the files you need to redo. Don’t worry about messing it up, it happened to me all the time when I first started. Try to have them in my desk by 4, okay?”

“I told the janitor about the paper towels and he said he’ll make a note to restock them more. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, Joslyn.” You thanked your coworker as you walked by.

“Jaiden!” You greeted. “Great work on your proposal yesterday. Just try not to fidget with your hands so much. You had great ideas. There was no need to be nervous.”

You finally got to your desk and set the stack of files down. You blew out an angry breath, already tired before you even started. Right as you were about to sit down when a man in a crisp navy suit appeared at the desk across from you, setting a box of his belongings down on top of it. He looked up briefly and made eye contact with you, smiling politely and stepping around his desk.

“Hi. I’m Chris.” He introduced himself as he held out his hand.

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You reached forward to shake his hand. “Is this your first day?”

“Yep. Just transferred.” He nodded towards his desk. “You’re the boss I presume?”

“Nope. Just one of his many victims.” You chuckled. “What made you think I was the boss?”

“I’m not sure.” He realized. “The way you walked in and took charge, I guess I just assumed you were the boss. You seem like you should be.”

“Oh. Well thank you.” You straightened your blazer with a new sense of pride. “I try to be assertive so I don’t get walked all over.”

“Well it’s working.” He laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You had my respect right away.”

“Thank you.” You smiled politely. “I’m not your boss boss, but I am your superior, so you’ll probably be training under me. I’m supposed to tell you no personal calls, but no one really cares. As long as all your work is done by the end of the day, call whoever you want.”

Chris nodded and took a seat in the desk that faced you, nodding in content as he took in his surroundings.

“Hm.” He shrugged as he glanced at you. “Nice view.”

You caught his meaning and gave him a pointed look, to which he held up his hands in defense.

“Come on.” You nodded towards the hallway. “I’ll show you where the break room is.”

~

“I’m home.” You called as you entered yours and Toms house a few months later. He came to greet you in a tank top and shorts, his glistening arms telling you he was just working out.

“Hey.” He smiled as he wiped his forehead. “How was work?”

“Brutal.” You sighed as you set your bag down. “I don’t know how much longer I can last there.”

“Your boss again?” He smiled sympathetically as he rubbed your arm.

“Yeah.” You shrugged tiredly. “I swear, he has a vendetta against me or something.”

Before Tom could respond, you phone chimed in your bag. You got it out and saw a message from Chris, making a smile tug at your lips.

“What are you smiling at?” Tom chuckled, always a fan of that smile.

“Nothing. Just something dumb the new guy sent me.” You dismissed as you put your phone away.

Toms face faltered momentarily as he wasn’t used to you not telling him things. He let it go, assuming it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“My day wasn’t much better. We couldn’t figure out how to get this one…” He trailed off, his face growing pale and fearful.

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together at his sudden mood change.

“You look different.” He said quietly.

“Bad different?” You worried.

“No, just…you have a gray hair.” Tom admitted, making you let out a shocked laugh.

“What? Let me see.” You ran over to the mirror in the hallway and Tom followed.

“Look. Right on your part.” Tom pointed out a single silver streak on your part.

“Oh. You’re right.” You gulped as a sick feeling sunk into your tummy.

You turned around to face Tom, who looked like he was about to cry.

“You…you aged?” He croaked as he tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” You shrugged weakly, trying to calm him and yourself down.

“Oh.” Tom nodded, stepping back from you and adverting his eyes.

“Maybe it’s from stress.” You offered. “My boss has really been kicking my ass lately. Or-“

“Or you met your soulmate.” Tom cut you off. You frowned and reached out to touch him but quickly withdrew your hand.

“Maybe.” You whispered as your eyes searched his face.

“Do you have any idea who it is?” He asked, already knowing he didn’t want to hear the answer. You stared at him for a moment, the urge to tell him how you felt stronger then ever.

“No.” You said flatly. “No, I don’t.”

“I, um…I have to check on something.” Tom said suddenly as he withdrew from you.

“Tom.” You reached out for him but he backed away.

“I really gotta go.” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later.”

Tom practically ran away from you, making you drop your head in your hands as you sobbed.

~

You gave Tom his space for a few hours before going to look for him, assuming he’d be in his usual spot on the roof.

“Hey.” You called out to Tom once you found him on the roof. He was lying on his back on top of a concrete slab, staring aimlessly at the sky.

“Hey.” Tom said stiffly, without looking at you.

“You’re mad.” You said matter of factly as you slid down beside him.

“I’m not mad at you.” He said quietly.

“I didn’t say you were mad at me.” You answered. “I said you were mad.”

Tom swallowed thickly and stared at the sky as a tear rolled down the side of his face.

“It’s not fair.” He croaked, clearing his throat when his voice came out weaker than he thought it would.

“I know.”

“I wanted it to be me.” He cried, covering his face with his hand as he cried silent tears.

“I know.” You repeated as you fought back your own tears. “I wanted it to be you too.”

“I look at your face everyday. I see every line and wrinkle because right know exactly how they got there. Who else can say that? Who else knows you like I do?”

“No one, Tommy.” You whispered. “No one knows me like you.”

“Then why-“ his voice broke and he stopped talking. You rested your head against his, moving your nose along his cheekbone.

“Then why are you gonna end up with somebody else?” He finished his sentence as he composed himself.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to.” You wiped your tears off your face. “I wanted it to be you. I was so sure it would be.”

“How did this happen?” Tom sniffled. “How is this fates design?”

“I guess we just weren’t meant to be.” You shrugged sadly as you rubbed your face again.

“But how?” He wondered. “How are we not meant to be?”

“I wish I knew.” You told him as you nuzzled your face against his.

“I wish I knew too.” Tom swallowed as he leaned into your touched. You let out a sigh before sitting up on your knees and hovering over his face.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you stroked his cheek. “I loved you just as much when I was 13 as I do at 23.”

“I love you too but what does that matter?” Tom whimpered. “We’re not supposed to be together.”

“One silver hair does nothing determine who I end up with. I don’t care if fate says we’re not supposed to be together. My heart says we are.” You decided. “You’re the one I want. I’m not interesting in anyone else.”

“Really?” Tom calmed down long enough to hear you out.

“My youth is yours.” You told him. “Everything of mine is yours.”

“But you’re going to continue aging and I’m gonna be stuck like this.” He reminded you.

“There are worse faces to be stuck with.” You smiled softly at him as you rubbed your thumb on his cheek.

“You’re not gonna want to be seen with an 18 year old the rest of your life. People will look at you funny.

“I don’t care how it looks.” You shrugged. “I want this. I want us.”

Tom stared at your upside down face for a moment before smiling at you.

“I want us too.”

You returned his smile before leaning down and kissing him, taking a moment to adjust to the awkward position and slot your lips together. Tom brought his hand to the back of your head to pull you closer as you sat up even more. You moved in sync until you pulled away to catch your breath.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?” You chuckled as you sat down again.

“Trust me, darling.” Tom laughed as well. “I know exactly how long.”

~

“Morning!” You chirped as you took a seat at your desk a few weeks later.

“Good morning.” Chris greeted you. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

“I did.” You sighed happily. ���Did you?”

“Not really.” He shook his head. “I spent the weekend in a bit of a panic.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You frowned. “What happened?”

“It’s so weird.” He chuckled. “I look like I’m 18 for the past few years and all the sudden I get laugh lines. I just looked into the mirror on Friday and saw them.”

“Laugh lines?” You laughed nervously as a panic set in.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m aging finally.”

“Good for you.” You faked a smile. “So you’ve met your soulmate?”

“I mean, I must’ve right?” He asked. “I don’t know who it is, I just know I’ve started to age. It’s pretty weird knowing they could be anybody I currently know.”

“Yeah, that’s really weird.” You agreed.

“Sorry, I keep talking about myself.” Chris shook his head. “Have you met your soulmate?”

“Yeah. His names Tom.” You smiled proudly.

“That him?” Chris pointed to a framed photo of you and Tom you had on your desk.

“Yeah.” You nodded and pushed the picture closer to Chris. “I just took that last week.”

“Funny.” Chris commented as he leaned forward to look at the picture. “He looks a little young.”

“Yeah.” You laughed nervously as you quickly withdrew the picture. “Funny.”

part two

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland soulmate au #tom holland x soulmate!reader #tom holland angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles​

#ezra #ezra prospect #Prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra's journal #prospect fanfiction #ezra fanfic #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (un)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior

the mysterious, age old town of ichabod. within it rests a history hidden from its inhabitants, who are forced to remain there out of fear. you simply wish to live in this town with the people you love without facing its wrath for as long as you can. unfortunately for you, there are great powers on your side who are willing to do whatever it takes to get you. whether you come willingly or not. after all, it only takes a little hellfire

——————————————————————————

“Come along now, (Y/N).” Your mother’s grip on your wrist tightened as she all but threw you in front of her. You nearly twisted your ankle on the twigs and tree roots that outlined the forest floor. “We are late enough as it is.” 

You huffed and tore your wrist from your mother’s hand to hike up the long, white dress you wore. “Good. I wish we didn’t have to trek out here in the middle of the night every month. Maybe we’ll miss the gathering entirely.”

She smacked your arm harshly. “Not another word from you, smart mouth.” Your mother dressed similarly, the only difference being that her ivory dress paled considerably compared to yours in the moonlight. “We’ve been attending for years. I highly doubt that such a change would be allowed, much less appreciated.”

You shivered at the thought. No matter how much you resented these meetings, you wouldn’t dare miss a summoning.

You stayed quiet for ten more minutes, taking in the rustling of the forest and focusing your efforts on avoiding sharp rocks underfoot. 

Trees rested on either side of you, lining your path and blocking out any natural light with their twisting, sneaking branches. It took all of your effort to ignore the oppressive silence, broken every so often by the snapping of a trig or the movement of some animal, cloaked by shadows in the dark.

Soon enough, you and your mother reached the clearing.

She pulled you back just as you were about to step into the moonlight, throwing a dark cloak in your face. “Are you mad? Put it on!”

You smiled abashedly and threw the material on. The hood was so long it cast a shadow over the lower half of your face but was wide enough for you to see.

Your mother finished arranging her hood and the two of you stepped into the clearing, joining with the last of the circle of cloaked shadows.

The moon shone brightly without the cover of the forest giving your surroundings an ethereal facade. A wooden stage lay at the very middle of the clearing, upon which stood your small town’s resident royalty.

The Kims. 

They were the ruling force of the town, the husband being the mayor, the wife a successful actress. They both settled down in Ichabod twenty-five years ago with their children. What had once been a town amuck with violence and chaos was transformed into a prosperous, well-functioning borough.

How the Kims managed to transform the area nearly overnight, few knew. They have run your city for nearly three decades. And everyone in it is terrified to cross their path.

Directly behind them stood their seven adopted sons, faces shrouded by hoods and masks. You didn’t know too much about them besides their names and faces; five of them currently attended your school and you made sure to give them a wide berth, being as polite as possible.

Kim Moonsik raised his left arm, twisting his wrist in a full circle. He then pointed his hand at the sky, gently lowering his pinky and middle fingers. “Greetings to the moon from her earthly servants.”

You lifted your forearm with everyone else, copied the gesture, and repeated the phrase quietly with disinterest.

“I thank you all for coming on such short notice.” He continued. “As another month commences, we have the pleasure of standing before you all. The moon has graced us with her everlasting beauty and prosperity rains down upon our small town, just as it has for decades before.”

This is usually the part where you would start drifting off. Kim Moonsik could drove on with his speech about the moon for far too long.

About what felt like an hour but was approximately fifteen minutes later, Mr. Kim trailed off and the forest became so silent, you hushed your thoughts in fear of thinking too loud.

The oppressive feeling in the air returned full force and you shivered underneath the warmth of your cloak as Mr. Kim eyed each and every person attending. He was not able to directly see your face, but you felt like the man was staring into your soul.

“Regrettably,” He said, clasping his hands together, “we are not able to part tonight without the moon’s divine punishment.”

Ah, you thought. There it is.

The reason your heart pounds at every one of these meetings. 

All you wanted to do was be that half-asleep little girl again, clutched in your mother’s arms as she trudged her way here every month. 

“Wylynne has decreed that there are sinners in our midst.” Mr. Kim says it quietly, but the gravity in his words travel.

And with a mighty roar, the pyre behind the wooden stage was lit with orange flames. 

The crowd stood in silence, waiting for the dreadful sound. You quaked in the dirt. Would it be you this time? 

But by the grace of the moon, no. 

The telltale, piercing shriek came from the right side of the crowd. Citizens rushed to get away from the teenager cradled in her parents’ arms. The mother could not let go of her daughter, heavily sobbing as the child clutched her head and continued to scream. Her hood had fallen off and your eyes widened as you recognized her.

Natalia Pierre. The two of you had had some awful confrontation a few months ago. Nevertheless, the resident embers of anger could not stop the overwhelming pity you felt as the Kims’ men ripped her away from her parents.

“Please!” She cried as they forced her to her knees before the mayor. Not that she wasn’t already bent over, riddled with pain. “Knives-the knives won’t stop, please get them out!”

Kim Moonsik lay his hand on her shoulder. “Do not worry, my child. You will soon join Wylynne’s heavenly army. May your failures be a lesson, victories a reward, and may your soul live on with the moon forever.”

“May your soul live on with the moon forever.” You whispered the last phrase with everyone else, ignoring the tear that made its way down your cheek. 

Before Natalia could say another word, her screams were cut short as her body was engulfed in purple fire.

It only took a second. Within minutes, her cloak, dress, bones, and ashes were gone. She hadn’t even scorched the grass. You could almost believe you’d dreamed it if her father wasn’t kneeling next to her writhing mother in the dirt.

Mr. Kim smiled gracefully, a sight that reminded you of the grim reaper with the shadow on his face. “To her heavenly grace, the moon, may she travel. To my fellow citizens of Ichabod, I bid goodnight.”

The orange flame behind the stage was doused. You, your mother, and the crowd bowed your heads as you wished goodnight to the Kims. It was only when the last son had left the clearing did anyone else begin moving.

You clutched your mother’s hand all the way home.

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

Since before you could remember, your mother had been dragging you to Ichabod monthly town meetings. It was the Kims’ way of ensuring the people that the moon continued to bless and favor them and would send prosperity their way in return for a sacrifice. 

In short, they were trapped here and if they wished to keep their lives, they would know better than to cross the Kims.

The people that had tried to run away all failed. They would either, depending on the “grace of the moon,” show up alive right back where they started, or their bodies were placed on the front doors of relatives or neighbors.

Now, you weren’t stupid. You did not believe that it was the actions of Wylynne or whomever Mr. Kim spends his nights singing praises to. The fatal injuries were always exterior, therefore it must have been nothing other than the work of man.

Nevertheless, you were too afraid to risk leaving Ichabod. You preferred to live your life quietly, holding on to your closest friends and family. And it has been successful for the past years.

The next morning as your mom drove you to school, you used your phone’s camera to check your appearance. There were bags under your eyes, so heavy that makeup would not be enough to cover it.

As she drove, you sighed heavily and thought back to last night, wondering how Natalia could have possibly angered the Kims. She never tried to escape--at least, to your knowledge--and she never talked to them at school either...

Your mother pulled up to the curb and you stuffed your phone into your uniform pocket, kissed her on the cheek in goodbye, and closed the car door.

Ichabod Academy, the resident school for all children born and raised inside of this town. It ran from first to twelfth grade, in several different buildings, and made for quite the large campus for the size of your town. The buildings looked quite dreary from the outside with its gray walls and glass doors, most of the lights inside still off.

 It was comparable to the size of a small, inner-city university. Everyone knew everyone, for the better or worse. 

You walked to the upperclassmen building, entered your first class, and lay your head on the desk. 

Usually, you would be able to get at least four hours of sleep the night after a summoning, but last night you barely managed to achieve two. 

Natalia...she wasn’t a bad person. She made mistakes, yes, but she was human above all. 

“(Y/N)?” You heard someone gently ask. You pried your eyes open to see your best friend.

“Hey, Mana.” You yawned. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than you, clearly.” They snorted and dropped themselves into the seat in front of you. “I couldn’t believe...”

You watched them tiredly as they failed to speak their words. “I know.” You finally whispered back.

The teacher walked into the room with a student trailing behind her and you immediately sat up, warily eyeing them both. “Good morning, class. Today we have a new student, transferring from another section. Please introduce yourself.” She motioned.

As if he needed an introduction.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Kim Jimin. I hope that we can get along and have a great year. Please take care of me.” He bowed slightly.

Your class chorused greetings and you balked slightly as you realized that the only empty seat was...

“You can take the seat next to Ms. (L/N). (Y/N), please raise your hand.”

You put your hand up and Jimin waltzed over to you with the biggest smile. He placed his bag on the floor next to the metal leg of the table. “Hello, seat mate. I hope we can get along.”

You sent a small smile his way--though it may have looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, me too.”

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

The bell rang for the break and you immediately slammed your notebook shut and dropped your head onto the desk.

Jimin giggled at your side. “Did you not sleep well last night, (Y/N)?”

You groaned out a “no”.

Mana turned around slowly and gently poked at you. “It was emotionally taxing for both of us, I think.” They said and smiled at Jimin. “I’m Mana, (Y/N)’s close friend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He stated. “Emotionally taxing you say...may I ask why?” 

You lifted your head. “Mana, and I used to be good friends with the tribu--girl who was chosen last night.” You quickly corrected yourself. “Then she got involved with this guy...”

“We told Natalia he was no good news, from the very beginning.” Mana interrupted. “But she insisted that he was different with her and kind to her. Then a couple of months into their relationship he has her smoking, drinking, sneaking out to have sex-”

“And it’s not that these things are bad,” you continued. “Like it was her life and she could do what she wanted as long as she was safe, you know? But she wasn’t like that at all before. To see such a drastic change...”

“Next thing you know, he’s spreading her private pictures across the entire campus.” Mana’s fist clenched and you put your hand on theirs to relieve the anger. “We tried to talk to him about her and he was always rude to us, dismissing us off-hand and insulting Natalia behind her back. (Y/N) tried to confront her about his behavior and Natalia fought her, saying she was just jealous of them.”

“After that, we lost touch with her.” You said. “But I would give anything to go back and speak to her, or just apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mana fumed. 

“The power of Wylynne is divine and just.” Jimin commented as he stared at you and your friend, unblinking. “She must have taken Ms. Pierre into her celestial army to spare her from facing the punishment of her earthly crimes for the rest of her life. She always has a reason, after all.” 

Mana looked at the table awkwardly. “Yes,” they said, “praise Wylynne.”

You nodded.

“(Y/N)?” Jimin looked at you expectedly. You weren’t familiar with the weight of his gaze, but you quickly learned it wasn’t something you were trying to get accustomed to.

“Praise Wylynne.” You said, flashing another grimace-smile.

Jimin’s eyes disappeared as he smiled and the bell rang, signaling the end of break. 

——————————————————————————

As the bell rang for lunch, Mana practically yanked your joint out of the socket with how quickly they wanted to leave the classroom. “Come on, we should try and get some food in is before next period.” On the way out, however, you couldn’t help but notice Jimin pulling out a plastic bag that contained a series of containers. There was one large plastic container that had what looked like a main meal, accompanied by four smaller containers that held side dishes.

Jimin sighed forlornly at the pile and you felt a touch of pity for him. Before Mana could drag you out the room completely, you tapped them, gesturing with your head at Jimin and making puppy dog eyes.

They sent you a look that clearly questioning your sanity, but you rolled your eyes in return, gesturing once more to Jimin. A couple of seconds of staring later, Mana allowed you to drag them back over to his desk. 

“Hey Jimin,” you gently approached him, “why are you eating lunch in the classroom?”

“Oh...” his face drooped even more. “...My little brothers and I would always stay behind while everyone else left to go to the cafeteria. We found it uncomfortable to enter that place when everyone would just go quiet and speak around us in whispers....I guess it was just a force of habit.”

You nodded in sad understanding on the outside but sighed in the back of your head. Of course people would avoid them. The Kim children were abandoned out of fear and respect rather than any overt effort to ostracize them.

Before, Jimin was probably accustomed to eating with his brothers Taehyung and Jungkook, but this morning’s schedule and class adjustment ripped the three apart.

You put a hand on his desk, wanting to show comfort without crossing borders. “Well, Mana and I would love to get to know you better as a classmate, or friend... you’re welcome to sit with us if you want?”

Jimin’s eyes widened, glistening with moisture. He snapped his head up, cheeks rosy with a hopeful blush. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude...”

“You’re not intruding! Come on, I’ll grab your bag for you.” Jimin rushed to pack up the containers. He took his bag from you with a smile. “Thank you both,” he whispered.

Walking through the relatively empty school halls with a Kim gave you a sense of confidence you didn’t need. You walked in a line, with you betwixt Mana and Jimin. All the students that saw you widened their eyes and bolted to the side to make way. It wasn’t because of you or Mana--you knew this--but the feeling made you uncomfortable.

It was powerful.

When you all arrived at the cafeteria, you tried to enter inconspicuously by piggybacking behind some tall classmates but it failed miserably. The moment Jimin was spotted, people indeed stopped talking and the room was engulfed in whispers. 

You gently took Jimin by the elbow, smiling at him assuredly, and directed him towards your and Mana’s usual table. It was thankfully empty, so you put your bags down and took your wallets out. 

“We’ll be right back, we’re just gonna go buy some food,” you stated, hearing chatter pick back up. Your best friend must have shot everyone their “mind your business” glare. Jimin nodded, neatly unpacking his lunch. Mana all but dragged you off.

“‘We’d love to get to know you better’? Seriously, (Y/N)! There’s a reason why people avoid the Kims! And you just openly invite one to our lunch table? Are you trying to become the next sacrifice?!” They harshly stage whispered.

“Come on, Mana,” you scoffed as you arrived at the lunch bar. “He’s been separated from his only brother in his class and trapped with a bunch of strangers. The least we could do is eat lunch with him. Don’t transfer the sins, or fear, of the parent to the child.”

Mana glared at you for a long while but eventually huffed out their agreement. “Fine.”

You payed for your food and walked back to the table where your new classmate was politely waiting. “Aw, you didn’t have to wait for us, but thanks!”

“Of course I had to! I should be the ones thanking you for being willing to sit and eat with me...” Jimin spoke ever so softly, looking down at the lunch table.

In this moment, it was easy to forget the fear that lingered from yesterday’s cold, dark night. It was easy to take the hand of the cherubic boy that sat before you and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Think nothing of it. We’re going to be doing this a lot more often, so please look forward to it!”

It was easy to forget the curve of his lip as he quickly hid an arrogant smirk, morphing it into his trademark angelic smile. “Yes, please take care of me!”

--------------------------------————————————

Lunch was quite awkward, as it was the first time the three of you had spent a meal together. You and Mana were used to speaking about anything and everything during lunch. You both especially tackled controversial opinions concerning the Kims and their vice-like grip on the minds of those in this town.

Clearly, in this case, that would not have made for clever conversation.

Jimin saved the discussion by turning it towards school, questioning you both on your favorite classes and teachers. If he was able to tell how religiously liberal you were, he was excellent at hiding it. 

He shared funny anecdotes of shenanigans he accomplished with his brothers, stories that had the three of you holding your stomachs in laughter. 

For the most part, you and your friend were relieved. Jimin was not nearly as terrifying as some of his siblings.

Time passed swiftly and before you knew it, the warning bell sounded, prompting people to throw out the rest of their lunch and swarm through the doors. 

You grabbed your and Mana’s tray, throwing the waste away as necessary and placing the trays on the counter, thanking the lunch lady that took them. Then you headed back towards the table, where the two awaited you.

Unlike the passageway that was fairly empty on your way towards the cafeteria, the halls were now teeming with students. They whispered non discreetly, taking glances at the three of you as you walked.

Mana grabbed your arm, letting Jimin go slightly in front as they pulled you back to whisper in your ear. “I could get used to the attention.”

They started snickered but yelped when you slapped their arm. “You wouldn’t be saying that for long. Think of how annoying the constant whispers would get. The Kims have to suffocate underneath all that attention.” You muttered back. Mana considered your words, eventually nodding their head in agreement.

Your best friend did not often have a gentle temperament. They would blow up at students fairly quickly--especially if they were whispering in their face.

The two of you reached the classroom, thanking Jimin as he held the door. Your classmates’ voices hushed and you internally sighed. If you hadn’t noticed their explicit cautiousness before, you definitely did now.

The teacher for the next lesson, Mrs. Hargrove, came in quickly after you, placing stacks of papers on their desk and shutting down conversation.  

“Good afternoon, students. I hope everyone had a great lunch.” Mrs. Hargrove’s appearance looked a little more frazzled than usual as she pushed her frizzy hair behind her ears and smoothed down her skirt, but no one made a comment on it. “Today, we’re going to be making an adjustment to our syllabus. Rather than have you all complete individual projects and two tests for semester, I will be placing you in pairs where you will complete a much larger research project with only one test.”

Some of your classmates sighed in relief while others groaned, and you all erupted into conversations. You didn’t mind completing an individual project, but the stress of research and choosing the topic would weigh on you for a while.

Mana turned to you, dread written all over their face. “We’re going to have to research? Kill me now. What topic do you think we should choose?”

You giggle at their dramatic antics but are swiftly interrupted by the teacher. “Actually, Ms. Waye, Ms. (L/N) will be working with Mr. Kim here...as they are seat mates after all.” Mrs. Hargrove glanced over to Jimin, almost as if she were looking for something in his expression. 

His face gave away nothing and he disregarded her with a stare. 

Mana sneered at the teacher’s blatant disregard for their pronouns, but Mrs. Hargrove paid them no mind, eyes blown wide open as if she’d seen the devil himself. She turned away, stuttering.

“You w-will all be working with your seat mates. I don’t want you taking up any class time to fight over who will be your partner. Now that we have an even amount of students in our class, it settles everything quite nicely. As for the chosen topic, I want each pair to research and present on a certain mythological creature.”

You smiled apologetically at Mana, who pouted and turned around to talk to their partner.

Mrs. Hargrove walked back up to the front of the class, handing out the stacks of papers with the required information for the assignment.

“So, (Y/N),” Jimin calling your name broke your attention from the teacher and you looked over at him. “What creature do you think we should research?”

“I’m not sure...but I kind of wanted to talk about a more obscure creature. We could choose one that isn’t as highly discussed.” You said excitedly.

“That’s a good idea! I’m pretty sure my parents have some old books of lore in our library at home...we’d easily be able to find a creature that people don’t know about there. Would you want to come over and check them out?” Jimin offered.

You stared at him, grin slightly slipping. Going to the Kim household? Without your mother’s hand to hold, or reprimanding to keep you from doing something foolish? This would be completely different from meeting them in the woods and escaping to the safety of your home afterwards.

You’d be walking into the lions’ den of your own volition.

Jimin saw your hesitation and his face crumpled. “It’s fine if you don’t want to...I’d understand,” he muttered.

But seeing his crestfallen expression, you shook all the bad thoughts from your head. “No! It’s fine. I would love to come over...I just have to let my mom know.”

What is she going to do--say no? You thought to yourself, grimacing.

Jimin’s face broke out into the biggest smile you’d seen today. “Really? That’s great!” His cheeks were full in happiness and you felt immensely better. 

You raised your hand, bringing Mrs. Hargrove over. “May I go make a quick phone call to my mother?”

She nods, glancing again at your partner. You wanted to extricate yourself from the strange atmosphere as soon as possible, so you shoved your phone in your pocket and trekked out into the hall.

You fully weren’t expecting your mother to answer, but she picked up after only a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hey Mom,” you said. “How’s everything at work?”

“Fine,” she said. “I can’t be on the phone for long--what’s up?”

“Would it be okay for me to go over to a classmate’s house for a school project? We were just assigned it and we need to do research. It’s a really big part of our grade this semester.”

She was silent for a moment. “Who is this classmate?”

“...Kim Jimin.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and scanned your eyes up and down the hallway as your mother’s volume increased by multiple decibals.

“Yes, I know...He invited me to his house, he said his parents have books we can look into...yes, it’s necessary, unless you want my grades to drop!”

In your determination to placate your mother, you didn’t notice the classroom door opening, nor did you notice the shadow that lurked around the corner.

“Mom, we can’t exactly refuse...it’s just a school project, I’ll be fine!” 

You sighed in exasperation as your mother launched off a series of directions, ordering you to text her every hour and watch your behavior around the Kims in her absence. After a string of “yes”, “I know”, and “I will”s, you hung up the phone, shaking your head.

You shoved the device in your pocket and hightailed it to the nearest bathroom, wanting to splash some water on your face before returning to class.

Jimin smirked at your retreating figure, taking his own phone out and tapping out a message. Once he received the response he was looking for, he tucked his phone away, brightened his facial expression, and opened the door to the classroom.

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

The moment had finally arrived: the end of the school day.

Mana watched on pitifully as you packed your books away, Jimin standing patiently above you.

Perhaps it was a bit dramatic to feel so scared, but as far as you or Mana knew, this was the first time someone was (willingly) going over to the Kim’s house. And for something as simple as a school project, no less.

“Alright then...we’re off!” you told your best friend, swinging your bag over your shoulder and tugging them into a hug. 

“Good luck on your project! Hope you guys find what you’re looking for,” Mana said, squeezing your midsection painfully tight. “See you tomorrow morning.” They smiled at Jimin, who acknowledged them with a small grin.

You nodded, stepping out from behind the desk and followed Jimin out the classroom. 

As soon as he had one toe out the door, however, he was tackled by a blurry figure with neck length, curly, dark hair. Jimin, whose surprise quickly turned into glee, wrapped his arms around the figure. “Taehyungie!”

The sudden motion made you pause in the doorway, one breath away from knocking your head into Jimin’s back. 

“I missed you today! I hate the fact that Mr. Burham made you switch classes--we always stick together!” Kim Taehyung pressed his face into Jimin’s neck, but you managed to hear the words he spoke. Jimin chuckled.

“We live together, Taehyung ah, we’d see each other regardless!” 

Taehyung lifted his face from his brother’s neck, brittle brown eyes glancing up to meet yours. You felt intimidated by the loss of the sparkle they’d held, but raised a hand to smile and wave at him regardless. “Hi...”

“Oh, Tae! Let me introduce you two.” Jimin hauled his little brother off of him and pulled the two of you by the hand out the doorway so that other students could leave. “(Y/N), this is Taehyung, one of my younger brothers. Tae, this is (Y/N). Mrs. Hargrove assigned us a project on a mythological creature and she’s my partner, so she’ll be coming home with us today to start research.”

You stood against the wall, a polite smile on your face. Taehyung was staring at you with a deadpan expression on his face, assessing you. You didn’t know much about the qualifications of this test, but you assumed it was crucial that you passed it.

All too quickly, his face broke out into a large grin and he swept you into his arms. You grunted at the force with which he pressed you into his chest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N)!” 

“Um, nice to meet you too...”

“Tae, you can’t just touch her without her permission!” Jimin pulled Taehyung off of you, smiling apologetically. You waved it off, gaping at both of them as they rehashed their day for the other.

The two brothers chatted happily, arms around each other’s shoulders as they ambled through the halls and out the front door of the school. Students sent you scandalized glances as you trailed behind them, but you were too busy updating your mother to pay attention. When you finally looked up, you saw Jimin and Taehyung leading you to a large, sleek, black van. 

Is this what getting abducted in broad daylight feels like?

 But you recognized this car. This was the Kim’s family car, driven by a hired professional to take their five children to school and back. You’d seen it many a times in the morning with your mother.

Students whispered as the three juniors approached the vehicle while you cautiously eyed the three figures that stood in front of it.

Kim Jungkook, the school’s most talented freshman. He’d already made high marks in all of the clubs he’d joined, with special attention to the music and sports club. He was so talented in boxing that the Kims, already large beneficiaries of the school, had given the director the money to start and finance the new boxing club. 

Kim Hoseok, the captain of the dance team with an academic prowess that was second to only one person in the whole school. He’d taken your school dance team to nationals and, although very kind to the general student body, it was not lost on everyone how exhausted the members of his team would be in competition season. No one in after school activities could forget the sound of him sounding out beats or barking orders through the halls during rehearsals.

And finally, Kim Namjoon. The president of the Association for the Student Body and resident academic genius. He’d held the top scores for every class he’d been in since freshman year. The school trophy case was jokingly nicknamed “Namjoon’s Bureau” after the amount of awards that had his name on them. 

Never would you have guessed that you would be meeting not one, but all five of the Kim siblings--on the same day, no less.

“Oh ho, Jiminie,” Hoseok teased as you approached, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Who’s this?”

Be still, my beating heart--

“Hello! I’m (Y/N), a classmate of Jimin’s. It’s nice to meet you all.” You greeted them with a sharp, but quick bow.

“We were assigned a project to research a mythological creature.”Jimin clung to Namjoon by the arm while he and Jungkook were busy staring at you. “Namjoon hyung, would you help us find the books Dad once showed us in the library? The ones with all the lore and stories?” 

On the outside, this felt like a normal day of being introduced to an acquaintance’s family members. 

On the inside, however, you were reminded of the purple flames that stole Natalia’s existence from this mortal plane in mere seconds every time you looked one of the older Kim siblings in the eyes.

Jungkook merely looked curious, doe eyes wide in surprise. But Namjoon...

Even though they were adopted, Namjoon held the same crazed, righteous look in his eyes that Kim Moonsik would have whenever he announced the next tribute for Wylynne’s army.

“I’d be happy to find them for you guys,” Namjoon grinned at you.

You “smiled” back.

That was a grimace...that was a definitely a grimace. You seriously needed to work on your facial expressions around them.

Hoseok opened the car door, sliding into the very back with Jungkook and Taehyung while Jimin leapt for the window seat. This left you between him and his older brother, and you fought the urge to groan aloud.

Once inside the car, Namjoon alerted the driver that everyone was present and the man took off without another word. While he was distracted, you lowered your phone brightness and updated your mother again on your location.

“So, (Y/N), how was your day?” You jerk your head up and turn towards the voice, Hoseok questioning you while still wearing that ear-splitting grin. 

“It was alright! I met Jimin this morning and then we attended classes and lunch...” you said, fiddling with the power button on your phone. 

Hoseok and Taehyung continued to ask you a few more questions, like your favorite color and artists, about your classes and any future career plans. Jimin would cut in every so often with a statement or question of his own, and Jungkook and Namjoon simply watched on quietly as the conversation took place.

You leaned your head on the space between the headrests of the seats, tilting it to the right. You thought this morning’s fatigue had been chased away by the excitement of the day, but it was actually resting, lying in wait for the moment where you would put your guard down.

As much as you wanted to avoid it, the rumbling of the AC and comfort provided by the plush, leather seats caused the background noise in the car to fade before disappearing completely.

Jungkook seemed to be the only one to notice your breathing slow. “She’s asleep.”

Any and all conversation that had been taking place shut down immediately as they all gazed at your figure. 

At some point in your sleep, you started to shiver from the temperature of the AC. Jungkook quickly peeled off his school sweater and handed it to Jimin, who pouted slightly as he draped it over your form. 

They watched the slow rise and fall of your chest and listened to the soft breathing noises you let out in your sleep. The world outside was forgotten, and for a few, precious moments it was only you and them.

And if all went according to plan, soon it would be much, much longer than a few precious moments. Their world would only consist of you and them, all of them, for the rest of time.

#cult au #bts cult au #yandere bts x reader #yandere bts au #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere jung hoseok #yandere kim taehyung #yandere kim namjoon #yandere kim seokjin #yandere park jimin #yandere min yoongi #Yandere jeon jungkook #x reader #religious au #high school au #college au #ot7 x reader #poly ot7