#someone please draw this man with purple hair as described in this please

[rorimoon9597]

Lance has always been obsessed with Keith's hair for some reason. He didn't know why at first, but as time went on, it became so clear that he wanted to run his hands though it and feel it on his fingers.

He made comments about it being an ugly mullet to hide that fact. It didn't work, especially not when he confessed to Keith before he left for the Blade.

What? He was going to lose the chance to say anything anyway! And he was so happy when Keith kissed him to shut him up and told Lance that his feelings were reciprocated, he felt as if he were on cloud nine.

Since coming back from his fight with Shiro's clone (who they're forever going to refer to as Kuro as in 'Operation Kurone'), Keith has experienced some changes.

For starters, his eyes were more purple. Before they'd been a grey colour with purple undertones, but now they were properly purple. Then his canines were sharper, practically fangs, and his eyes would sometimes change. When he was angry, his irises would become slits and the sclera of his eyes would become yellow. It was hot, in Lance's humble opinion (Pidge called him an alien fucker when he said that at first. Lance said that Keith's dad was the true alien fucker. Shiro sprayed the water he was drinking everywhere and choked when he said that).

The most noticeable change happened to Keith's hair though. The ends of it lightened, until they were purple. It looked so cool, and it connected Keith to Krolia more. His hair stayed black, but now when it gets out it was purple.

Keith... Didn't think the same way as everyone else.

"I feel like I'm losing my dad. I've only ever looked like my mom, and the one thing that has ever connected me to my dad was my hair." The team had stopped on a planet for a rest, and Keith and Lance had gone off together to hunt down some meat and gather fruit and vegetables.

Lance stopped and grabbed Keith's wrist, forcing him to stop and turn to face him.

"You're still connected to your dad, Keith. It's just not entirely in your appearance," he said. Keith frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Lance hummed.

"You said that he'd go head first into danger, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"And that he was a hero?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"According to your mom, your dad was kind, and reckless, and a hero and someone she loved enough to leave to keep safe."

"Mom said that?" Keith asked, sounding surprised. Lance nodded. "Where are you going with this anyway?"

"Because those are some things that you have in common with your dad," Lance answered. Keith opened his mouth, then closed it.

"... You're right," he eventually said. Keith reached up to his hair and fiddled with a purple end. "That stuff... Does connect me to my dad..."

"I'm never wrong about people things," Lance said, confidently. Keith smiled down at him (that had happened during the two year time dilation that Keith and Krolia went through, and Lance found that he liked having to look up over looking down).

"You know more about people than I do," he agreed. He pressed a kiss to Lance's forehead. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," Lance said. He pressed a kiss to Keith's lips. "Now, let's go catch something that Hunk can make into a good meal."

"Alright."

They worked quickly, and made their way back to the campsite with food that all of them could eat. Hunk was quick to take care of the food, Krolia helping him while Romelle stayed by Allura's side.

Lance sat on a log, and Keith settled himself between his legs. Kosmo flopped down with them.

Lance ran his hands through Keith's hair, smiling as Keith joked with the others and treated Shiro and Romelle like Lance treated his siblings - by annoying the hell out of them out of love.

Lance leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Keith's head.

"I love you," he whispered. Keith hummed, tilting his head to look up at him. There was a smile on his face reserved just for Lance.

"I love you too," he replied.

_______________________________________

Based off of this post I made

#voltron #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #princess allura #coran #hunk garrett #pidge holt #krolia #keith has purple in his hair #based off if a headcannon i have #i love purple haired keith #someone please draw this man with purple hair as described in this please #not forcing it but it'd be so cool #klance

[mymarifae]

ohhh on the topic of ocs… would love to hear more about sophia tiller and/or the witch guy…..

for sure!! for context: these two are both from the witch's apprentice. synopsis for that story is in this post again

i can't go much further into sophia's character without spoiling things, but she's like. y'know. quiet and introverted. very negative towards herself and others. just a pessimist through and through. she's autistic and her special interest is botany btw

so! the Witch Guy is named arthur croft! i have never drawn him and don't really intend to any time soon because the most important part of his design is this complex geometric pattern tattoo on the side of his neck and i don't. want to draw it <3

some other features of his so you can get the gist of what he looks like: brown skin, shoulder-length black hair that he keeps pulled back in a ponytail, elvish ears (lots of piercings), sharp teeth, he's about 5'10, and he appears to be in his mid-thirties... maybe early forties (he's really probably around 100 years old). he usually dresses in like... knitted vests and button-ups and nice pants. and heavy hiking boots. also his eyes are like, multicolored? their base is dark brown, but with lots of flecks of intense blue and purple (it's a witch thing) also-also he is bi and a trans man 👍🏾

anyway. arthur is a witch, and in this world, witches are not human! they're a species of Fae - although it's worth noting that humans and the fae share a common ancestor. don't ask me what it is i didn't think that hard about it

if i had to pick one word to describe arthur's personality it would be... sprightly. he's bright and mischievous and playful and overall just very friendly! he's also got a bit of an ambitious streak. he loves magic and studying magic and really, really, really, REALLY pushing the limits of what magic can do

... perhaps pushing a little too hard. which leads me to the gist of twa's plot:

humans aren't as naturally in tune with magic as their fae cousins are. they can use it, but not very well or very consistently. so it's not uncommon for humans to strike "contracts" with witches/other species of fae/other magic-wielding beings. the idea is that magical energy can be loaned out, granting the lendee abilities or. other things. that were previously not possible. so perhaps a human (or any being really; these contracts can occur between anybody and anything) will sign a contract to gain super agility or to master telekinesis or to heal an illness or literally whatever. as long as the request is within the lender's abilities, the prices of these contracts are never extreme. like a telekinesis is probably only going to cost you $100. because yes paper money can sometimes serve as payment - it's up to the lender.

if a request is outside of someone's abilities, it is possible to turn to another witch or faerie (or what have you), and they can pool their magical energy together. these types of contracts are where things start getting steep, but most people are not reckless and just deny the more egregious requests.

arthur is not most people. he is reckless. he is very, very reckless. as far as what it took to fulfill this most recent contract -

let's just say there are some ancient evils slumbering in the depths of the earth that are better left undisturbed. they're very powerful. they can do a lot of things. please let them sleep.

(arthur fuuuucked up <3)

one last thing: twa and a boy and his cat are tangentially connected. that's all i can say until i decide to write these damn books

#one day i will draw arthur. maybe. if only he didn't have that fucking tattoo (<- is in control of his design and can remove it but won't) #mailbox #twa

[loverdrew]

Do It For Me | b.b

Synopsis: Y/N may never be able to forgive Bucky if he goes through with his decision. (pre-endgame with a twist, very inaccurate storyline and writing I know but it’s all fiction)

Warnings: a few cuss words here and there

Based off of Greys Anatomy (between Izzie and Denny)

My first ever Bucky Barnes fanfic! I’m getting more into writing for Marvel characters.

I had been sat up in my room at the Avengers compounds for the whole day at his point; harnessing my magic, drawing/reading to calm me down, and just enjoying a nice day off. Everything seemed quiet, a little too quiet for my taste. No one had come knocking on my door to talk or check up on me. After a few minutes I started to hear talking through my headphones and it was coming from outside my door. I slowly let my earbuds drop from my ears, silently opening up my door and creeping downstairs. It had seemed to more I got down the steps, I saw more people come into view. All backs were turned, some arms crossed, but voices were definitely raised. It felt like more than one person kept trying to speak and once at the bottom step, I saw the one person who was the center of it all.

Wanda was the first one to see me, cutting her sentence short, and soon everyone followed. Steve’s face dropped, biting his lower lip and looking at the floor. Bucky stood up, eyes almost bulging out of his head. I looked around stunned at everyones faces as they all made a collective sigh.

“W-what’s...what’s going on guys.” Wasn’t so much of a question, but more of a ‘tell me now or I’ll crush you guys with just a thought’. My powers were growing, everyone knew this. With one scream, a whole city could go deaf. With no swipe of my hand, I can send more than 10 men flying 100 feet. Most of the time they wouldn’t dare bother me in fear of my emotions becoming heightened and possibly destroying something. But something tells me right now might be the first time that happens.

“I said, what’s going on.” My hands glowed purple, the color of my powers. Wanda immediately rushed in front of me and looked me in the eyes, rubbing her hands over mine. When she found out I also harnessed powers from an infinity stone, Tony made it a point to have her help me maintain my magic. Her touch softened the glow, instantly calming down my heart rate. She repeated the same phrase to me; ‘don’t let it take control of you, take control of it’. The purple glow went away, as she guided me towards the group.

“Thanos is coming, Y/N.” Tony spoke up.

“And we’re trying to figure out how to stop him once and for all but...there was an idea brought up.” Bruce chimed in, and I followed his gaze right to Bucky. His head laying low. My mind went to the darkest of places. Bucky had never looked so ashamed. All I wanted to do was hug him and rub up and down his back, he always liked that. The last time I did that for him was a few nights ago when he had yet another nightmare and I found him downstairs watching TV even though I knew he was exhausted. He was too afraid to fall asleep. I remember that night, thinking about how badly I wanted to tell him how I felt. He had been my rock since coming into the compound, even if nobody else saw it. Our friendship consisted of late night snacks and conversations, training together making each other stronger, and always communicating and tell each other the truth no matter what. But oh, how I wanted that friendship to mean more to him as it does to me. But I would panic, thinking I wasn’t ever going to be good enough for one of the best people I’d ever met. He deserved a woman who was just as great as he was. 

“Tell her.” Natasha spoke, anger laced in her voice.

“Bucky...” I whispered. 

“My greatest wish in life is to take back every bad thing I did in this world. Every person I had killed, hurt, ruined their life.” He looks at Tony with deep regret. “And I can’t ever do that physically, but maybe in another way, I can.” He was rubbing his hands together avoiding my gaze.

“Okay? Bucky that’s great that you’ve figured out how you want to do that-” 

“You didn’t let him finish.” Sam said with a monotone voice.

“We need to be ready whenever Thanos decides to come. And the only way for me to get my wish is to...be the one that’s sacrificed during the battle.” My heart stopped and the ringing in my ears began to pick up. Wanda could see my hands glowing much brighter and more rapidly this time. I could feel her hands come up to the sides of my arms but within a flash my whole body shook the entire room like an earthquake.

“What!!” I walked over to him and slammed down on the table. “Are you out of your god damn mind Barnes!”

He tried to reach out but I raised my hand, stopped his movement and moving his arm to stay at his side, unable to move it.

“No, no, no you’re not doing this. You guys please tell him he is NOT sacrificing himself! You have no idea how much power those stones are! Just look at me! I have the same powers as a stone yet I can’t control shit Bucky! It’s out of control you’ll be dead before you can even use one stone to fight off Thanos!”

“I’ve been working with Tony and Shuri on a way to help me harness the power. They’ve been working on a suit for me that is stronger than Tony’s. Y/N you have to understand that this is my way of righting my wrongs, if I die then I die a hero who saved the whole world, not someone who use to kill hundreds of people with no remorse.” I turned towards Tony, his eyes becoming scared as he held his breath.

“You...” I throw my hands up and thrashed Tony into the wall, shattering it. He couldn’t move, paralyzed by fear at what I could do to him. Wanda yelled out to stop, but I couldn’t hear anything over my own boiling anger. “You knew about this. You knew he wanted to die and didn’t try to stop him!”

“I-I was just doing what I thought was the only option.” I slammed him again into the wall.

“There’s other options Tony!” I began to cry out, tears instantly springing from my eyes so quick it took me a second to realize I was even crying. With each puff of my chest my powers weakened as I wasn’t paying as much attention anymore, my brain becoming overstimulated with dark thoughts.

Bucky came up behind me and brought his arms around mine, his cheek pressed up against the back of my head.

“You’re not doing this Buck, we’ll find another way.” I said in between cries. I looked around seeing everyone else become emotional at my breakdown. Natasha was like a mother figure to me, this was the first time I was seeing her tear up. Wanda was my protector, but she didn’t know how to protect me from my own feelings. And everyone who surrounded me, who watched me grow from a 20 something year old uncontrollable witch to a grounded and a fantastic Avenger, wore heavy hearts and hooded eyes. I turned around quickly wiping my eyes of any tears and stood tall. My breathing coming back to normal. “It’s okay we’ll-we’ll find another way. There’s gotta be another way right?” 

“Y/N...” He said sadly, clutching my hair. I pushed him off and walked away giving some distance between us, actually, between the whole crew. I stood on one side of the room while the rest remained where they were.

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to make me okay with this. Alright, you did some shit in your past Bucky, so what we all don’t have the best track records as angels. And I’m sure you don’t feel like you deserve to live with all of the trauma you’ve endured but guess what? You do! You know how you get the fix things? You become a better person, a fighter and protector of the world! People change Bucky and I’ve seen it first hand in you! You deserve to live just as much as anyone else!” Everyone remained silent, so I assumed they agreed with me. “And if you tell me one more time about sacrificing yourself because that’ll right your wrongs in this world, so help me God, I will kill you myself right now!” And without thinking, my hand shot out a purple beam of light, latching onto a glass vase and chucking it around the room, creating a whole in the wall and the glass shattering everywhere.

He walked up to me peacefully with his hands held in the air.

“Y/N, please. I’m going to be alright, you don’t have to worry this much. You should be more concerned about protecting yourself. I definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do this and something worse happens to you.”

I laughed in sadness.

“What about me? What about me when you die!” I saw multiple people begin to shed the same tears I was. We had all grown fond of Bucky when he joined us. He really proved and showed deep down, behind the trauma HYDRA had left him, he was a great man. That’s why I fell so deeply in love with him. “That’s the worst thing that could ever happen to me Bucky! I will die inside if you don’t exist in this world!”

“Y/N-” more tears sprang from his eyes. His voice cracked and got lower. It’s like he couldn’t find the words to describe the pain in his heart at the thought of leaving you behind. Without having told you that he loved you too. 

“No I get it! You’ll be okay, you’ll be fine with it but what about me? Please, don’t do it for yourself, do it for me please!” I hunched over, the grief and pain overtaking my body. I felt too weak to even stand and continue yelling at him. “Please Bucky, please do this for me! Don’t leave me please don’t do this, I can’t take it please! You have to do this for me, because if you don’t I will never be able to forgive you!”

He stepped closer at a slower pace.

“For dying? For saving the world?”

“No for making me love you!” I began to cry out harder, the ring in my voice shaking the room once again, making everyone’s hands fly up to their ears as I got louder and louder. Natasha at this point was full on bawling, along with most people in the room. I think it was safe to say everyone knew of my affection towards the man at the center of attention, and maybe that’s why everyone had left me alone today. Afraid of this exact situation. The one person, the one thing in this world that can bring me to tears at my feet.

Bucky’s eyes filled with adoration as he ran up to me and held me on the floor in between his legs. I clutched at his arm crying into his shoulder. He looked back at Tony, who only gave him a nod. They had agreed together that one of them was bound to be the sacrifice when it came to defeating Thanos. Bucky of course still wanted it to be him, he felt it was the most right option. But when he looked back at Tony, clutching the love of his life in his arms, Tony took that as a final answer. Tony was okay with the decision he had come to long ago. He was ready to die for the good of everyone else, but nobody knew that yet. Bucky wasn’t giving up the fight, but now it only became that much harder to leave her behind. It was easier not knowing her feelings, but it had come to the light. Bucky wanted a life like Tony, the kids, the wife, everything. But at what cost? He was still going to fight to the death if he had to, but the decision to be the one to end it all was fading away.

“It’s okay Y/N, I promise we’ll talk more about it and find another way if we have to.”

“We have to Bucky, we have to.” My cries didn’t stop, but my voice lowered. My eyes caught everyone else’s, almost embarrassed at my sudden outburst of devoted love to Bucky, but everyone knew, they just never heard it from me. “Just hold onto me please.” I pleaded.

“I’m here Doll, I promise I’ll stay right here.”

#marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #the avengers #avengers imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes x reader

[jawabear]

Marcus Moreno NSFW Alphabet

Not my GIF

A/N: You know I had to write one for this boy. It would be wrong not too. As with the others, these are just my interpretations of his character and may differ to yours, but please be respectful of others’ views. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: smut

Warnings: fem!hero!reader, mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly described, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: An A-Z of Marcus Moreno’s bedroom antics...

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Marcus is such a kind man. He’ll make sure you’re okay. And he’ll make sure you don’t need anything before pulling you into his arms if you’re in bed. If you’re else were, he’ll still make sure you’re alright, making you look perfect before you get to where ever you’re meant to be.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, he finds your neck irresistible. Other than your lips, it’s his favourite thing to kiss. He loves to mark it with bites that show everyone you belong to him. He loves to bury his face into your neck while he fucks you, he loves the way your fingers feel in his hair when he does.

On him, he’s rather fond of his arms and his tights (so am I). Mainly because he likes it when you grip his arms when he fucks you, and he loves when you ride his thighs. It’s one of his favourite things, and you always seem to enjoy yourself when you make yourself come on his thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to come on you. Over your breasts, your stomach...

And he loves to come in your mouth, he loves to see you swallow his come.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you two got together, and after his wife died, he would find him self in need of release. And being one of Heroics as well, there were many clips of you online doing awesome super hero things. He loved watching those. He loved watching the way you moved. The way your muscles flexed. The way you beat up the bad guys so effortlessly. And it was so sexy. He’d watch them in the dead of night while getting himself off. But he doesn’t know if he should ever tell you, because it is a little weird.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean, he’s got a kid. Clearly he knows what he’s doing.

He certainly does know what he’s doing. He knows where exactly to touch you to make you feel good before you even know.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He’s a big fan of the classic missionary because he can see your face and kiss you as well as being able to hold your hands which is a big thing that he likes to do.

He also loves when you are on top. Riding him, facing him or not or riding his thighs. He also loves 69......

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He can be more funny then serious depending on his mood and the circumstances for the sex. He likes to enjoy it and wants to make sure you are enjoying it as well so if he needs to make you laugh he will. But he is mostly serious when it comes to sex.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s pretty neat down there. It seems he takes more care of his hair down there than he does on his face or his head.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Marcus is a very romantic person. He wants to make sure you are happy. He wants to make sure you know how much he loves and worships you. So he will do whatever he can to put those points across to you as he makes love to you. This would usually be by kissing you for an extended amount of time or just simply telling you how much he loves and adores you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

As stated before, in the time he was on his own, he would jack off quite a lot at night or in the shower (mostly to the thought of you). But now, less so. He’ll still do it on the odd occasion, say if your out on hero business, but you’re usually there to help him out if he needs it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He wants to be your hero. So he’s a big fan of role play. He loves when you decided to put yourself “in danger” for him to have to come and rescue you. Or you acting as someone who is evil and he has to stop you...and punish you.

And he has a slight weapons kink. He would never hurt you with the blade but something about seeing you with his katanas and nothing else drives him mad.

And I’m not saying he has a daddy kink, but I wouldn’t put it past him....

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. Or the shower. He doesn’t really have a preference between the two. But he’ll go anywhere as long as you are comfortable and happy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A lot of things came get him going. The main ones being when you are in your hero uniform or when your fingers with lightly brush over any part of him.

But mostly the uniform. Definitely the uniform. Yours or his....

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

As much as he loves the role play and the weapons, he’d never actually use it to draw blood or cause you any sort of discomfort.

And he wouldn’t want to have sex in a public setting where people could see. He’s not so much against say touching you under the table or what ever, but if it came down to him having to fuck you in front of someone he wouldn’t do it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Marcus loves to be between your legs. He’ll eat you out at any given moment. He’s all about pleasing you. And he loves the way you squeak, moan and whimper as he eats you. As well as the way you grab at him to hold his head closer to you.

But he’s an absolute sucker for you sucking him off. As mentioned, he loves to watch you swallow his come. And he loves the feeling of your mouth and tongue on him. You can easily turn him into mush the second your tongue touches his dick.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s kind of in the middle. He can be both extremes (favouring slow and sensual) but he falls some where in between. He’s not exactly slow, but he’s not exactly fast. But somehow it’s the perfect balance that gives you the best orgasms of your life.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s not too against them. Sometimes that’s what it will have to be, what with his job and Missy being around.

Sometimes it will have to be a quick fuck in the supply cupboard at HQ. Or a quick one in the kitchen before Missy comes down for breakfast.

But he much prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He used to risk his life every day fighting the dangers of the world, and that mentality does transfer to the bedroom.

If you want to try something, he’ll do it. Unless it’s super dangerous or really really risky.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s not a young as he used to be so he can’t go for that many rounds. In a row that is. If you spaced them out over the days he could got for quite a few. But in a row he’s good for about two.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s never really needed them so he’s never really owned any. But when you brought your trusty little purple vibrator to the party, he grew embarrassingly fond of it. He loves to watch you use it on yourself and he loves using it on you while he eats you out, making you scream. And he likes it when you use it on him, teasing him with it or taking him all the way.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He not necessarily a tease with actions, more with faces or words. He’ll constantly be whispering dirty things into your ear whenever he gets the chance and he’ll send you sexy looks or winks from across the room. He’s very good at getting you worked up with our having to touch you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

With Missy in the house, it’s very much hush hush. For multiple reasons that are pretty obvious. But when she’s gone, he doesn’t hold back. He lets out every sound he had to hold in. He’s not exactly loud, he just makes a lot of noises. But they’re amazing to listen too.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Marcus does find it difficult to make the first move. Even when he does, when just charges at you or something, he will always backtrack or stop to ask you if you want it. You will always want him and you’ve told him that on many occasions but it doesn’t seem to stick in his head. He’s just too sweet to let the beast inside him run free for once.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s pretty decent. He’s longer than he is thick but he’s perfect for you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

To be fair, it’s not all that high. He has a lot on his plate and sex is usually quite far down the list. He’s so busy all the time that he barely even has time for sex. Which is kind of sad and annoying for both you and him, but most of the time you’re pretty busy as well.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

His mind never stops so he finds it difficult to sleep full stop. But sex always seems to relax him enough to make him feel comfortable in getting some sleep. But he is a very light sleeper. And he won’t fall asleep until he has checked you are okay and he’s given the house a once over to make sure everything was locked and everything was where it should be. He’ll take a quick peek into Missy’s room to make sure she is okay before he comes back to bed and eventually falls asleep with you wrapped in his arms.

28/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88​

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #smut #pedro pascal #fanfic

[kirishoshego]

The Other Side Of Sanity//Shinso

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONL!!!

first part of my Fantasy AU Series! Stay tuned! Part 1: Satan’s son Shinso Part 2: Barbarian Bakugo Part 3: Dragon Dabi Part 4: Knucker Kirishima Part 5: Spirit Shoto Summary: A blossoming love between a priest’s daughter and the devil’s son wasn’t in everyone’s favor Pairing: demon!shinso x virgin!reader Words: 3.4k

TW:nswf: !no mention of a certain religion BUT the devil/satan/lucifer simply because I wanted something with S for Shinso which wasn’t a succubus as I have another idea for that! mention of abuse (slightly), mention of blood and unconscious/dead bodies (not described though), Shinso turning into a sort of demon, having sex with said form, unprotected sex, rough sex, missionary turning into mating press turning into doggy, hair pulling, choking, marking, a tiiiny bit of mind control 

You still remember the day you met the most handsome man you ever laid your eyes upon. He looked like he was build by the gods themselves, almost too perfect to be something as simple as a human. It was the beginning of spring, at dusk, the evening sun tinting the beautiful nature in a warm red, hues of orange, purple, and blue. It was your favorite time to take a walk, most people at home, dining with their family or coming from the field, bags filled with new goods. You were accomplished by your friend as your eyes fell upon him. He didn’t really do much, to be honest, he was simply walking across the street, a book in his hand. the stranger was dressed in all black, a shiny black ring adorning his long fingers, and a few purple strands of hair were falling into his face before he pushed it back. As if he sensed you starring at him his gaze turned to you. His lavender eyes were mesmerizing, making you feel as if you fell into some sort of ban. Something caught his attention and before you knew it he was gone, leaving you longing for something you couldn’t explain. “Who was that?” you asked James. “You don’t know him?” his voice was laced with shock “If I did, would I have to ask you?” you raised your eyebrow at him, a teasing smile on your face. He laughed at your remark, explaining to you that the man you just saw was Hitoshi Shinso. You have heard about him, he was known as the young devil around the kingdom. No one dared to get too close to him, a rumor has spread that anyone trying to harm him would end up with a big misfortune or even dead. It must have been lonely for him, you thought. Maybe your father could do something, considering he was the priest. But when you mentioned his name while having supper he turned angry, shutting you down and telling you to never even think about him ever again. Easier said than done.

The sound of soft splashes of water hitting your window awoke you, all light blocked out by curtains. The purple-haired man has been haunting your dreams for five nights in a row now and you couldn’t get rid of him. You tried, reading your books, drawing something, taking a walk and meeting up with James, helping your father out in church. He stayed. No sight of the sun, you noticed as you looked outside, as it was hiding behind the grey, stormy clouds, lightning illuminating the kingdom now and then. Your father was long gone, his duty for the king and the church giving you plenty of time for yourself. So you pulled out your cloak, the hood hiding your face from anyone who might pass by.

It was hard to find Shinso’s small hut, but not impossible. You felt a small victory when your eye fell onto it, surrounded by tall trees and a small garden at the front. Smoke came out of the chimney, indicating that someone was home. Before you could get closer though, a tiny, pitiful meow caught your attention. To the far right was a small, black cat, even more drenched than you, clinging to the limb of a tree. The small animal seemed to sense the fact that you were no harm, trying its best to get closer to you, but failing miserably, her claws once again digging into the wet wood.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help,” you explained, as if she understood you, you thought, trying to find something you could climb onto. A small table was discovered by you as you walked to the back, taking it with you and putting it below the deepest branch. After taking a deep breath you put all your strength into your body, climbing up, scratching your leg open, but you didn’t even notice that you started to bleed, too concentrated on getting the small thing down. As soon as you reached it, the cat clung to you as if its life depended on it, not letting go even after your feet touched the floor again. A small chain around the neck was held a tiny tag, the same sigil as the one on the wooden door on it. Nobody reacted to your knock and even though you didn’t want to trespass and look like a burglar, you just had to make sure the cat was okay. It was unusually warm inside when you opened the door, making you feel welcomed, even without an invitation. On a wooden chair, you could spot a piece of fabric. Taking it away you tried your best to dry off the now purring ball of fur, not knowing someone was standing in the doorway, watching you.

“Kerbera, what have you done this time?” while the cat’s tail was flicking slightly in excitement you turned around in shock, dropping the makeshift towel to the floor, and started apologizing. Shinso picked up his cat, gently fondling her chin with a small smile on his face. “It’s fine, thank you for getting her down the tree, she loves chasing after squirrels,” he explained, setting her down and walking over to the stove. He extended his hand towards you, pulling you up and flush against him. You noticed that even though he was outside just minutes ago his body was already as warm as the house, his smell filling your lungs. Never would you have thought that a person could smell like a mixture of your most favorite odors. As far as you were concerned you could stay like this forever, feeling the same ban you did when you first met him. “Tea?” he asked you, only now noticing how close your faces were. “I don’t want to bother-” “If you were a bother, would I invite you to drink a tea with me?” Shinso cut you off, pushing you down to sit on the chair and taking off your coat to hang it in front of the fireplace. “So?” he walked up to the stove, taking some water out of a big barrel. “Yes please,” you told him, looking around the room. It was small and didn’t seem to hold many personal things. A book shelf caught your attention and you couldn’t read half of the titles, written in a language you never heard about. Next to it was a ladder, leading up to a small, sort of second floor, a blanket suggesting that his sleeping place was up there. He sat down on the chair in front of you, pulling your leg up onto his lap. You watched him putting something on your wound, causing it to burn for a few seconds, followed by cream and bound with a thin, long cloth. “Next time you climb on a tree try not to injure yourself,” “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said, thanking him for taking care of your wound. He clicked with his tongue, returning to the boiling water on his stove. “Fine by me, but next time I won’t help you,”

The next time you got injured was in his garden, helping him plant new vegetables and cutting your hand open on a sharp stone. Without a second thought, he ran inside, getting everything he needed and nursing your wound. “I thought you didn’t want to help me next time?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him, a cheeky smile on your face. “Oh shut up you klutz,” he murmured, rolling his eyes.

And he was there to catch you before you could fall, was there to take care of you when you got sick, was there to teach you how to make your own medicine, was there to teach you how to fight. Shinso was used to people being scared of him and to be fair he started to like it. He had his cat and a few other animals visiting him from time to time. But you were the first person to pass his barrier, the first your cat had invited into his home, and even if he was a bit rough with you every now and then you would always return, telling him that even if he was the son’s devil you wouldn’t care because he’s nice to you and that was all that mattered.

When you stopped showing up without an explanation, he was angry. He opened up to you and all of a sudden you had enough of him and left him. But when three days turned into a week and then two he knew something was wrong. If you were sick you would have sent a raven to him with a letter by now, you had done it before. Two months after meeting Shinso your father started inviting men over to your mansion, all trying to court you. Shinso couldn’t deny the fact that it somewhat made him jealous, he could give you so much more than they could even dream about. He had told you about his feelings but before you could answer he told you to forget about it, erasing the last minute from your memory. But even then you would try to find a way to reach him, he just knew you would. So, after dawn he decided to sneak into your mansion, hoping to find some clues about your whereabouts.

Meanwhile, you were chained to the cold, abrasive wall in your chamber, your father taunting you about your feelings for Shinso. Telling you how blind love had made you, that you couldn’t even see that you were dancing with the devil. That you were foolish enough to not hide your little adventures, not noticing that someone was following you the last time you wanted to visit him, snatching you before you could pass the safety of his barrier and bringing you back to your father. “If he cared about you the way you wrote in your little book of sins he would have been here by now! Try to save you, but he didn’t even attempt to find you,” the man whose nose you had broken when he grabbed you was standing at your window, peering through the glass in case the purple-haired man showed up. “Or maybe he knows about this little trap and just is clever enough to stay away,” you told your father, looking at him through your eyelashes. “You're mistaken, the young devil just climbed across the wall,” the guard announced with a wicked smile on his face. Your father proceeded to gag you again, telling his man to hide in the shadows and get ready to attack when he’s close to you.

They didn’t expect him to straight-up walk through the door in his full glory. Black wings adored his back, a pointed tail whipping behind them. His skin was grey, his eyes black and lilac iris’ glowing in the dark. Hands have turned into claws and you could see blood running down them, dripping onto your bedroom floor. His eyes immediately fell onto your small frame, eyes full of hope and fear. Were you scared of him? With two big steps, he stood in front of you, ripping the chains from the wall and cutting your gag with his nails. “It’s a trap,” you croaked, eyes growing wide when you could spot the same guard you attacked with a raised sword. Before he could strike either one of you Shinso turned around, commending him to drop the weapon and sleep. The blade and the body hit the floor at the same time, causing your father to jump out of the shadows, drenching Shinso with holy water. He screamed in pain and your father walked up to him, a cross necklace tightly in his hand. “Depart from us, demon,” he yelled, watching the creature in front of him going down on his knees, raising a small knife drenched in holy water. “Shinso, no!” you sobbed.

Suddenly screams of agony turned into cackling laughter and the man you fell in love with stood up, no sight of a wound on him. “Next time you try to take me down do your research, holy water can’t harm me, I’m still half-human after all,” he told your father before hurling him across the room, knocking him out cold. “Come on Y/N, let’s get out of here,” he held his hand out in front of you, pulling you up and flush against him like he did the first time. “Tea?” he asked you, making you laugh through your tears. “You’re awful you know? I thought he hurt you,” you told him, letting him carry you out of the building. “Are they...” you trailed off, looking down at the small army of guards scattered in your old home. “They are asleep... Mostly,” he added, his wings covering the view so you won’t have to look at the gruesome scene surrounding you.

The moon stood proudly on its highest point when Shinso arrived on his cabin, you still in his arms and Kerbera already awaiting the two of you. Just now you spotted the huge window on top of his bed where he walked into, laying you down on his bed. “So you’re really the devil’s son?” you asked him, hand going through his hair softly, eyes mustering him, trying to take in as much as you could. “He prefers another name,” he told you “but yes, I am,” was added, as he put the blanket on top of you. “You’re beautiful,” slipped out of your mouth, but you didn’t regret it, catching him off guard. “Thanks,” he stuttered, confusing himself. How embarrassing, he thought. As he wanted to climb down the ladder, you grabbed his arm, making him halt. “Yes?” his usual roughness shone through, all he wanted was to take care of you now and you keep distracting him.

Before you could think about what you want to say to him, let him know what you feel for him his hand was at the back of your head, pulling you to him. What was meant to be a simple peck quickly turned into a hot, deep kiss. Your dress was torn apart, much to your dismay, but he promised to get you whatever you wanted once you moved to a nice place called the Kingdom of Italy. His button-up shirt followed quickly after, along with his black, cloth pants. “You’re safe with me,” Shinso whispered into your ear, kissing along your jawline, fangs digging into your delicate skin, marking you as his. You gasped, so many new things coming to you at once, but the way he was handling you made you crave him in ways you never knew before. “More,” you breathed, hand in his hairs to pull his face closer to you. It didn’t need to be said twice, his teeth sinking into you over and over again. Never deep enough to cause serious damage, but enough to show it was him and him alone you gave your body to. Sharp tongue licked across your fresh wounds, flicking over your sensitive nubs, circling around them to hear your breath hitch in your throat. “Be a good girl and open your legs for me,” he ordered, taking control over your body, the tip of his erect shaft tapping your sensitive clit over and over again to watch you squirm. “You can trust me, you know that right?” he asked, hand around your throat. “Yes,” you whispered, feeling a strong tingle between your legs. “Yes, what? Speak in full sentences, you’re not stupid are you?” he teased, dipping into your already wet folds, only to pull out again the same second. “Yes, I trust you,” with that he pushed himself into you, your nails digging into his warm chest at the sudden stretch. “Say my name,” he grunted, his hand going from your neck into your hair, pulling to give him free access to the crotch of it to place open mouth kisses on your marked skin. “Shinso,” you moaned out, feeling pleasure spread through your whole body. “So wet and all for me.” his eyes starred at where the two of you were connected, watching the way your pussy takes him in, gripping him so tightly. At that moment, he knew you were meant to be. You, he could tolerate, could see next to him. You didn’t realize you were calling out his name, like some sort of prayer, never wanting to let go of him ever again, until he gripped your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up into his dark eyes. ”Tell me, what do you desire?” his voice was low, feeling the ecstasis run through his veins as you laid underneath him, eyes screwed shut at the amount of pleasure only he could give to you. He pinned your hands over your head as you were arching your back to meet his thrusts, craving more of him inside of you. “Please Shinso, I need you inside of me, deeper,” you begged, feeling a knot build up in your stomach, tears formed through the new sensation you were experiencing because of him. Placing your legs over his shoulder pushed his long shaft even deeper inside of you, the new angle sending shocks through you over and over again. “You like that don’t you? Giving your body to me, letting me use you the way I want to? Who would have thought out of everyone on this god-forsaken world, a priest’s daughter would end up being my biggest weakness,” he told you, lips crashing onto yours once again, careful not to scratch you with his fangs. “You’re a wicked little thing, you know that?” the man on top of you didn’t expect an answer, you were a moaning mess by now, trying your best to meet his thrusts. He could feel your cunt start to tighten around him, grinning because he knew you were close. Slipping on off his hands over your chest, pinching your nipples to make you squeal, over your stomach, then dipping lower to your touch starved clit. “What is this?” you moaned, looking at him through your lashes and he could cum right then and there. He was fucking you senseless and you still managed to look so cute, almost helpless in a way. “Just let go for me, show me how I make you feel,” his thrusts turn faster and before you knew it fireworks exploded in your abdomen.

Within seconds he had you flipped over, arm around your waist to push your ass up against his still hard member, the other hand around your neck to push you down, making your back arch nicely. Without warning, he slammed himself back inside of you, eliciting a blissful scream from you. Groans spilled from his lips as he bottomed out inside of you, feeling you puls around him, still coming down from your high, feeling your second already building up again. It won’t be long until he came as well as it was centuries ago he had someone close to him, still, nothing compared to you. He picked up his pace, pounding into you with no mercy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his hand around your neck tightened, shutting off the blood flow and making you feel light-headed. The way you squeezed his hard cock told him you were close again and he pulled your back tight against his glistering chest, watching your tits bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your head was pressed against his shoulder, hand around your throat to hold you up. “Look at me when you cum again Y/N,” Shinso compelled you and your body listened, starring into his beautiful lilac eyes as you screamed out his name. He made you ride out your second orgasm, burying himself deep inside of you and filling your cunt up with his cum. He laid down beside you, pulling you into him and watching your passed-out figure breath in softly before falling into a deep slumber himself.

When you woke up the next morning all traces of him were gone, the books disappeared, the flower you collected and dried gone, his pots and pants nowhere in sight. All that was left was a new dress on the single wooden chair, with a note on it. ‘For you’ it read. You cleaned yourself in the river, tears dripping down, flowing down with the water. At first, you didn’t want to wear the dress, too torn apart from the loss of him, but you had no real choice with your previous dress shredded. You crouched down to pick up a lilac flower, the sun suddenly disappearing.

“Hey love, I’ve prepared everything, ready to leave?”

©KirishoShego// do not repost on any plattform

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[liberty-barnes]

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft. 

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration. 

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners. 

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business. 

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity. 

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened. 

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #libbys stuff #libby writes #marvel #avengers #mcu spiderman #spider-man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #harrison osterfield #harry holland #sam holland #single mom!reader #mob boss!tom #mob au #mob boss au #mob tom #the jar series

[lalainajanes]

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”  

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * * 

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

 Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

 She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

 Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

 Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

#klarosummerbingo #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 6

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~2.5k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating,(will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Swearing, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, food, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: i like this chapter a lot :) the stage has been set.

...

The next morning, Virgil had an opening shift at the knitting and sewing supply store he worked for. He'd found it the first week the three of them had moved to this town for college, and immediately took a liking to it, likely thanks to his long-lasting hobby of clothing alteration. He'd made some good money to save up in high school from making and selling custom hoodies and other clothing, even having taken a few commissions over the years.

It wasn't rare occurrence, that he was opening the store, and on this particular morning it wasn't so dreadful (once he'd pried himself away from his half-asleep boyfriends, who both vaguely grumbled protests at the incomplete cuddle pile as Virgil was getting ready). Virgil had gotten to his favorite coffee shop, where Janus' brother Patton worked, in time that it would be open and he also wouldn't be late for his shift, which was rare. It only worked out that way if Virgil's bus commute was perfectly timed.

Now caffeinated, and somewhat less-pessimistic-than-usual about the day ahead of him, Virgil retrieved the keys to the shop from his pocket, fumbling for a bit before finding the right one. He let out a breath as he found it, unlocking the door as he'd done a thousand times before and stepping in, shutting the door behind him and leaning his back against it. Virgil noted the clock on the wall, reading 5:02 am. The shop opened at 6, and he had more than enough sorting and stocking to do before then.

The next hour passed rather quickly. His co-worker Emile showed up shortly after him, and they both spent the rest of the time before the shop opened restocking and organizing the horrendous amounts of yarn and string and such supplies throughout the store and in the back room.

Shortly 6 am arrived, and it was time for the two of them to draw straws to decide who would man the register and help customers while the other continued stocking. Typically Virgil enjoyed the latter while Emile enjoyed the former, but their manager had insisted that they make the odds more random in order to get them both more comfortable in their unpreferred positions.

True to their manager's sentiment, Virgil drew the register stick. They both sighed at each other, and Emile returned to sorting through some cerulean yarn balls. Virgil made his way to the front of the store, unlocking the doors and flipping the sign to open, before making himself at home behind the register.

Generally, customers were rare at this time of morning, save for a few early-riser regulars. The bell at the top of the door chimed. Virgil didn't look up, expecting to see Margaret in her usual morning power-walk getup, coming in to check up on whether they'd gotten a shipment of lavender yarn yet.

"Morning, Marge. We still haven't gotten any lavender in, if-" Virgil halted his speaking upon looking up, feeling his throat constrict as he realized who had entered. At any rate, this person was certainly not Margaret.

The first thing that caught Virgil's attention about this new customer was their eyes. They were a burning blue, with small subtle mushes of gray here and there. Through their vaguely foggy colors, those eyes cut sharp like ice shards. The customer seemed entirely calm and stoic, however that did not extend to the ferocious - however not hostile - intensity with which they were staring Virgil down. Of course this intensity did not extend past their eyes, as the very slight twinge of a polite smile was seated at the corners of their mouth. Virgil briefly noted some seemingly familiar physical characteristics (although he was extremely wary to assume anything - what would be the chances of him and his boyfriends all meeting the same man individually, completely perchance?); shining black hair, square-framed glasses, the freckles, the pale and sunken nature of their face. Or, as Virgil certainly noticed, the subtle pronunciation of his cheekbones and jawline. They wore a black coat and a navy patterned scarf that appeared to be hand-knitted.

Virgil stumbled his way over to the closest register to the door - he wasn't sure why they even had two, they never needed to use them both simultaneously - and leaned haphazardly on the counter, propping his chin up on his palm.

"Sorry, hello, I thought you'd be someone else. Marge is usually the first in. What can I do for you?" His face felt really hot, and he was pretty sure that much was obvious to the newcomer, but he tried his best not to think about it.

The stranger didn't speak for a moment, merely leaning forward slightly with a furrowed brow. Virgil panicked for a moment, but followed their line of sight to the name tag on his hoodie. It was quite scuffed up, and the name "Virgil" was scarcely discernible through various smears of odd substances. Virgil quickly unpinned the name tag, beginning to rub away at the gunk with a sweater-covered thumb.

"It's Virgil, sorry about that," He spoke, hiding his hot cheeks behind his bangs as he scratched at his name tag feverishly. He quickly decided on just setting it down, wanting to give the newcomer his full attention.

"Good morning, Virgil," they spoke, and wow, was Virgil gay. The strangers' voice was deep and smooth, and reminded him a bit of Janus'. But this had a tactful, almost clinical and calculated sincerity, whereas Janus' was far more lilted and drawly. Regardless, Virgil felt his throat constricting a bit. He tried subtly coughing the feeling away. "I am in search of some high quality yarn, as a gift for a dear friend of mine. It is my understanding that this establishment is highly regarded for its products' quality?" Virgil tried not to stare. The stranger was running their fingers down and up the inside of one of the lapels of their coat very slowly, and that reminded Virgil terribly of Janus. He felt like he was in high school all over again, ogling over a tall pretty boy.

Regardless of his gay panic, Virgil cleared his throat. "Yeah, we try," His voice cracked slightly, and he tried clearing his throat again. "I mean, we have some pretty awesome suppliers, and we have a really, uh... Big selection of stuff. Do you, do you know what it is you want to get for your friend, exactly?" Virgil thanked any gods that existed had allowed him to formulate a coherent sentence, and he was glad to have the expectation of speaking temporarily off himself.

The customer tapped his chin with the side of his index finger, - which again, reminded Virgil painfully of Janus - humming as he continued surveying his surroundings. "I think he'd appreciate a selection of soft or pastel colors, and he adores the color blue. I think white would be a suitable addition as well. Do you sort your yarns by color?" he inquired, returning his heavy gaze to Virgil and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Virgil tried not to audibly gulp.

"Yeah, we do. here, let me show you to the right aisle," Virgil stepped away from the register, and tried to get out from behind the counter, only to completely trip over a cardboard box and fall directly onto his face.

"Goodness, are you alright?" the stranger paced quickly over to where Virgil was groaning on the floor, attempting to pull himself up onto his elbows. They reached a pale-white and very bony hand down to Virgil, who stared at it for a little too long before taking it gingerly.

The customer pulled firmly, and Virgil did too, and they both slightly miscalculated how much strength they needed to apply in order for Virgil to stand. Virgil stumbled forward just a bit as he rose. He looked up slightly and found himself nose to nose with the now wide-eyed man. Virgil yelped slightly, jumping away like a startled cat.

"Sh-shoot, sorry about that," Virgil took to fidgeting a bit aggressively with his hoodie strings, curling them around and between his fingers. "Uh, this way," he pushed a bit awkwardly past the man, looking at his shoes as he walked and willing away the burning heat he felt in his cheeks. Of course the first cute guy he encounters besides his boyfriends is right there when he falls on his face.

He paced over to the aisle with hues of blue and purple yarn, spotting Emile still working with a large box of cerulean. After a momentary panic and trying to wave Emile's attention without making any noise, the stranger turned the corner into the aisle Virgil had led him to. Virgil sighed to himself, annoyed at an in-no-way-at-fault Emile who still hadn't noticed their presence.

Virgil cleared his throat. "Hey, Emile, could you take register while I help this... customer?" Virgil had to take a moment to recall a phrase to describe him besides 'very beautiful man'.

"Uh-" Emile went to say he could help the customer for Virgil, since they were meant to stay in the vicinity of their assigned roles, but Virgil was looking at him with an intensity that blatantly said 'I am begging you to let me help this very gorgeous man to find his yarn and if you don't so help me god I will impale your severed and rotting skull on a rusty metal pole'. Emile chuckled a little shrilly. "Yeah, sure Virge," Emile slid past the two of them, making his way to the register as the chime of the door sounded again. "Welcome in, Margaret! Do-you-how-do?"

Virgil turned his attention back to the man looming slightly over him, leading him down the aisle to the softer and lighter shades. The customer was already scanning the shelves with a tactful intensity that made Virgil almost as anxious as it did further attracted to him.

"This variety is more than adequate," he spoke, almost under his breath, and Virgil tried not to shudder at the rumble in his voice.

"Um, great," Virgil piped up after a moment, and the icy gaze of the tall boy was on him once again. His cheeks felt real hot. "I can, get you a bag for... what you pick out? Er, a gift bag, if you'd like?" Virgil tapped the side of his fist into his hip a few times, trying to expel some of his nervousness. The stranger smiled softly.

"That would be excellent. Thank you, Virgil." He turned back to examining his options, and Virgil scurried off to find a gift bag.

The bags were all by the front register, and he grumbled a bit to himself on the way, preparing for some relentless teasing from his coworker for the next century at minimum. Emile was just waving Margaret off when Virgil rounded the corner, stepping behind the counter to rummage through some boxes for a gift bag.

"Sooo, Virgil," Emile started, tone entirely teasing as he leaned a little too far on the counter, tapping his orange pen on his lips.

"Don't. Say. Anything." Virgil hissed through clenched teeth, glancing up to give Emile another pointed glare for good measure. Emile chuckled lightly, leaning back on the counter a bit.

"Whaat? I won't! I'm totally innocent, see?" Emile puffed out his bottom lip and made his eyes look big. Virgil scoffed.

"Is that a cartoon reference?"

Emile grinned, shrugging. "Probably."

Virgil found the gift bags - finally - and began scampering off and away from the prying gaze of his overly curious co-worker.

Virgil helped the customer to find and collect the proper amount and variety of yarns that he wanted. As it turned out, it was a relatively easy task; aside from being impossibly and unintentionally charming, the stranger was mindful and courteous, and working with him was proving to be relatively easy. They bantered a bit, falling into a casual conversation as they searched for yarn, as well as while they walked back to the register for Virgil to ring his items up.

Emile gave Virgil a pointed look as he approached, trading him places as he walked with a skip in his step back to his yet unstocked shelves. Virgil rolled his eyes at him, stepping extra carefully behind the counter so as not to trip on any stray cardboard boxes. He leaned against the counter in front of the register, beginning to type numbers into it as though he knew the yarn prices like the back of his hand.

the customer stood at the counter before Virgil, vaguely examining his purchase as he watched Virgil slightly through his peripheral. He noticed the way Virgil bit at the inside corner of his mouth, worrying the flesh between his canines as he focused on adding the prices.

"Alright... your total is 82.53," Virgil said slowly, looking up at the stranger, who had - oddly enough - already been looking at him. The stranger glanced away momentarily, clearing his throat and reaching into an inside pocket of his coat for his wallet.

He produced a pristine black leather wallet, pulling a shiny navy blue debit card from between its folds and setting the wallet on the counter as he handed off the card. Virgil took the card and charged it, the customer punching in his PIN through the keypad.

A faint buzzing sounded from within the man's coat, and he reached in once more with knitted eyebrows. He pulled out what seemed to be his phone, eyes widening as he saw whatever was on the screen. Virgil couldn't see, but he figured someone must be calling him.

"My apologies, I must depart," The man spoke quietly, grabbing his gift bag of yarn and bringing his phone to his face as he made hastily for the door. Virgil didn't hear what he said when he answered the phone, but his brow was still furrowed when Virgil caught a glimpse of his face walking down the sidewalk out the store window.

"Bye..." Virgil said to the empty store front.

He looked down, seeing the customer's debit card still in his hand. "Shit." He saw the wallet set on the counter before him as well. He grabbed it, opening it to return the debit card to its proper place and see if there was a way of contacting the man within the wallet.

As he opened it, a white card similar in shape and size to the debit card fell to the floor. Virgil retrieved it, flipping it over to see what it was.

"No way..." Virgil was holding a driver's license. The name it was registered under was too familiar for it to be a coincidence.

He'd need to be giving one Logan Lattimer a call on his break.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #emile picani #analogical #anaroceit #anaroloceit #theyre so gay oml

[c4pricornc4ts]

Sbi + Friends Rec List 2

All are non shipping. 

Please message me if there is anything wrong with the links and I will fix it. Here’s some more of my favorites, I will post a longer fic rec list next week that will be better organized. Enjoy! 

hello, welcome home (isn't it lovely, all alone?) - WreakingHavok

2k 1/? Angst, Found Family 

He talks to himself and his nights are long, but at least hes alone, and at least the war that haunts his dreams is an ocean away. Eret sends Wilbur and Technoblade to Antarctica, and Phil reads letters. 

Wilbur's hands are gentle - lucradiss

3k 1/1 Sickfic, Mild Hurt/Comfort 

In which Techno’s head hurts and the only person who’s allowed to touch his hair is his friend (brother) Wilbur. 

Tommy Needs Some Sleep - TheVintageRed

500 1/1 Family, Mild Hurt/Comfort 

Tommy is overworking himself trying to compete with Dream in their history class. 

fighting is easy, young man. coping is harder - KadeAK(zacixn)

1.4k 1/1 DreamSMP, Hurt/Comfort 

The war is over, but Wilbur doesn't feel free. Tommy stumbles across him in a terrible state.

Please Forgive My Sins, Please Forgive Me. - Lillian_nator

2.9k 1/1 Family, Angst 

Purpled missed his brothers -Tommy and Tubbo could never stay mad at Purpled -They were family after all. 

Together We Banish The Darkness - Shmallo

1.5k 1/1 Family, Hurt/Comfort 

Sleepy Bois + Tommy have nightmares. Fortunately, Phil is there to lend a hand.

I Was Young Than You Are Now. - 1__Dot___1

3.8k 2/? Family, Hurt/Comfort 

Techno sees himself a lot in Tommy. A young man with a knack for drawing blood. After Tommy comes home from a fight at school, Techno is the only one who is there to clean up the pieces.

Runaway Prince - HuntDue

900 1/1 Family, Fluff 

Techno is a prince and Philza is his caretaker. Techno wants to mess around with the commoners, but his father doesn't allow him to, so he runs away temporarily.

chalk dust and sidewalks - soggywaffle

1.1k 1/1 Family, Fluff 

“hey tommy, did you know that im a vampire?” in which techno and wilbur prank their youngest brother

Kindred Spirits - arochill 

9k 5/5 Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst 

They were his family.In which one man leaves his dream job and learns that taking care of three monster children may be better than anything else he could ever ask for.

arson. - tobi_writes

1.1k 1/1 Fluff 

tommy and tubbo end up having to be babysat because they set a forest on fire.george and minx are the only ones who are not busy. so they babysit two children for a day.

Summer Days (Niki and Her Boys) - Lillian_nator

3.6k 1/1 Fluff, Angst 

Sometimes, in order to know what you're fighting for, you have to slow down and look around you. Or... Niki sees how overworked Wilbur is, and takes him and the boys out for a picnic.

"It's Like Watching Your Little Brother" - kiwikitkat

1.9k 9/? Family, Fluff, Angst 

After hearing Wilbur describe Tommy as a younger brother, I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.A collection of one-shots about Wilbur and Tommy having a sibling dynamic! Nothing inappropriate, and if you comment asking for it I won't hesitate to block you, so like? don't?

The Prince of the Antarctic Empire - Lilian_Nator

9.9k 4/? Series, Family, Fluff 

It all started, with a simple meeting. There was no prince, and there were no rules, and no one believed in him. More importantly - no one had any expectations of the prince. It all started when he was a mere boy.

Mayday, Mayday - Siempie 

7.3k 1/1 Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort 

Wilbur could not have expected things to go THIS wrong. Honestly. The arrow in his chest didn't give him much time to philosophize about that, though.Wilbur gets shot. Tommy does his best.

there are a hundred people who will listen to you cry - reversustenebris 

1.9k 1/1 Hurt/Comfort, Fluff 

Eret hasn't left the castle in a long time. He doesn't think anyone was going to miss him, after all.He was wrong, of course.

Come Home, Tubbo - MadKiska 

14k 1/1 Family, Angst 

On a mission to sneak into the Whitehouse, Pogtopia find a long lost friend. Only.. He doesn't recognize them at all.

kindred spirits - arochill 

5k MonsterHunter!Philza meets monster kids Tommy, Wilbur, Techno and decides to raise them. 

Absolutely Anything For Them - Numanum 

3k 3/3 Angst, Hurt/Comfort 

Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices. 

wait a minute - Aenqa 

23k 8/? Angst 

An alternate Dream SMP timeline in which Tubbo finds himself firmly under Schlatt’s control and things are going.... just, very poorly. 

holding on tight, sleeping at night - meridies 

4k 1/1 fluff 

Tommy is certainly not afraid of storms. Luckily, neither are his two siblings.

Birdsong - Aria_Cinabun 

3k 1/1 Angst, Zombie Apocalypse Au 

The birds call to Tommy. They tell him of danger. They tell him whether the zombies are coming. He calls back to them, and he runs when there is no answer. 

Did you hear that? - InnittoWinit

1k 1/1 Hurt/Comfort 

Techno wakes up in the middle of the night to a noise, little does he knows tommy isnt really having a good time without his friend by his side. 

Afraid - AlpineWasTaken 

2k 1/1 Angst, Nightmares 

“Christ, Tommy, can’t you just shut the fuck up for five seconds?” A sliver of dread and doubt crept in as he watched his friend walk away, not once glancing back at the younger.

all you can feel is your lungs flood - Anon  

900 1/1 Hurt/Comfort 

wilbur soot isn’t okay. he promises. 

Shelter for the Night - qtiphaven 

4k 4/7 Angst 

After getting into a fight, Tommy has no where to go. At least that what he thinks until he runs into someone familiar at the local corner store. 

Authors I really like <3

Lillian_Nator  - Wonderful at angst and aus. They have written 22 minecraft fanfics and I adore all of them. 

reversustenebris - Mix of fluff and angst, lots of fics with Eret which I love to see!

AlpineWasTaken - Writes other mcyters besides the main DreamSMP ones aswell, has some heartbreaking fanfics. 

Thank you for reading. You can find my works here. 

Authors, if you would like your fic taken off my list for any reason, please message me. 

#SBI #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #techno #technoblade #eret #philza #niki #tommy and tubbo #tubbo #wilbursoot #fic recs #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft #dreamsmp #fanfic

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 7 (Ending)

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 4,000~  Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: mentions of physical abuse, injuries, blood, trauma, a lot of crying but there’s a happy ending I swear

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

Another Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic! It took a long time for me to finish and edit, but I’m so glad I finally got the idea out of my head and into the world. I’ve been kicking around ideas for a little epilogue (something short and fluffy) if anyone would be interested in that. I also have plans for future fics with the other boys in this same AU. :)

As soon as you recognized the man in the video, you called the police. Kwon Hyunjoong’s name wasn’t unfamiliar to the city police. They’d had multiple run-ins with him investigating hybrid crimes. But he was always careful enough to worm his way out of the charges. The lax hybrid rights laws didn’t help the situation. Even with all the progress and new policies implemented in recent years there was often next to nothing that could be done to stop the atrocities. Fortunately, since Yoongi was registered as yours, the police could pursue it as a theft and potentially damage to personal property. Depending on the degree of harm, it could be brought to trial as an animal abuse case. You didn’t like it, but it was the only way they could help you. 

The problem was that Hyunjoong had multiple establishments at different locations, so the police weren’t sure where to start looking. Luckily the head of the hybrid crimes division, Detective Moon Bora, was more than happy to take it as an opportunity for a police raid on several of his known locations. Hopefully that would give them a chance to gather evidence and shut at least part of his operation down. Still, you needed to find the place he’d taken Yoongi too. You remembered the business card the snake of a man had given you when he came into the cafe. You quickly dialed Jin, who was still at your apartment with the rest of the guys.

“Jin, can you look for something in my desk? It’s a business card, mostly purple with some kind of logo on it. Should say the name Kwon Hyunjoong on it,” you said, not bothering with a hello.

“On it,” Jin said. You heard his footsteps and then the shuffling as he rifled through your desk drawers. “Got it! The Eclipse Club. *** W. **th Street. Is that where he is?”

“Maybe,” you responded, then hung up. You quickly called the police back and told them what was on the card. They assured you’d they’d send units there immediately, but you couldn’t bring yourself to just wait. So you snagged Namjoon’s keys out of his pocket and ran back to the car. By the time he, Jimin, and Jungkook caught up you were already pulling out of the parking lot. Namjoon banged on the window and tugged at the door handle but the doors had locked automatically when you put it in drive and there was no way you were stopping the car. You didn’t even glance in the rearview as you drove away, not seeing your little brother run his hands through his hair in frustration, Jungkook frantically dialing for a cab, and Jimin watching with wide, frightened eyes.

You punched the address into your phone’s GPS at the next light. To say you were speeding would be an understatement of comical proportions, but none of the cops that zipped past you with their sirens blaring, seemed to care. It both comforted and terrified you to see the pure volume of police heading to the same destination as you. You pulled up in front of the club to find several police cars already stopped near the entrance. The officers were trying to set up a perimeter so no potential witnesses or perpetrators could slip away. They weren’t being nearly as cautious about letting people in, so you managed to shoulder your way through the writhing crowd of sweaty and inebriated club-goers. 

Once inside you suddenly felt overwhelmed. You had no idea where to start looking. With no better ideas, you started elbowing people aside and moving through the building, screaming Yoongi’s name. A young girl—she couldn’t have been more than nineteen—with round black ears nestled in her curly white hair bumped into you. One of her eyes was blacked and a split ran through her pretty doll-like lip. She hurried to apologize, straightening her microscopic tulle skirt as she bowed. You quickly grabbed her arm drawing her eyes back up to meet yours.

“Yoongi!” you shouted at her. She frowned, understandably confused. “I’m looking for a guy called Yoongi,” you said again, leaning closer in hopes she could hear you better over the deafening sound of the crowd and the music still blaring through the speakers.

“Yoongi?” she said, clearly not recognizing the name. Your heart sank as you realized with horror that Kwon Hyunjoong might not have brought Yoongi here. “Yeah. Smallish guy, soft cheeks, honey-blond hair, little black cat hears and tail.” You described, hoping to jog her memory.

“Suga?” she said, coming to a realization. “They just brought him back. The master took him to the cage.” She nodded to a hallway in the back where several police officers were already shoving their way though the crowd. “He looked angry,” she added with a frown, ears twitching nervously.

“Thank you,” you said, giving her arm a squeeze as you started pushing through the crowd again. You reached the hallway relatively easily but your progress slowed when you came upon a crowd of officers gathered around a doorway, trying to usher two burly men in handcuffs through the throngs of inebriated people. You continued pushing your way through, managing to escape their notice for the most part even as you elbowed a few cops in the ribs. When you got close enough to the doorway you saw a set of metal stairs leading down, and heard a familiar voice echoing up the passage. Even in the form of pained wails and animal panic, you knew that voice.

“Yoongi!” you screeched, lurching past the last two people between you and the door. You practically fell down the stairs in your haste, the cops behind you shouting at you to stop. The officer at the door downstairs was shocked still for a moment by the appearance of your small, frantic frame. He came back to himself as you pushed past him, and he caught your arm to prevent you from entering. The wild swing of your arm caught you both off guard as you wrenched your arm free, stumbling forward onto your hands and knees and catching the officer in the jaw with a backhand in the process.

“Hey, stop right there!” the man shouted, but you were already moving toward the pale figure trying to make himself disappear into the corner. Yoongi hunkered there, pale and shaking in just a pair of boxers. Blood splattered the fabric where it dripped from lashes in his back and thighs. Two police officers, a man and a woman, stood a few feet away trying to get closer to help.

“What do we do?” the man asked.

“I don’t know. We might have to tranquilize him if he won’t let us get close.”

“S***, I hate to do it though. He’s already pretty messed up.” The male officer eyed the tranq gun in his hand unhappily.

“He needs medical attention thou-” the woman started. You’d heard more than enough. 

“Yoongi!” you cried again, sprinting across the room to him, the officer from the door right on your heels.

“Miss, stop! It’s dangerous.”

You got within a few feet of Yoongi, but pulled up short when he hissed, actually hissed at you. He tried to shuffle further away. That was when you noticed one of his legs stretched out, held by a chain bolted to the center of the room. Everytime he tried to escape further the chain bit into his flesh, the skin already raw and bleeding there.

“Yoon? Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Yeoji-noona. Yoongi, baby, please.” 

His head lifted just the tiniest bit as he looked at you. “Noona?” he said weakly. His voice was raw and wobbly, barely audible, but that was all you needed to hear. You were at his side in a heartbeat. He finally moved forward a bit, no longer pulling against the chain and you heard him draw a breath through his teeth at the sting as the metal shifted against the wound on his ankle. He pressed himself to you, burying his face in your chest. You did your best to hold him without touching the raw skin of his back. 

You pulled away for a moment and he sobbed, panicked, so you hurried to peel off your sweater and pull it over his body. He didn’t even put his arms through the sleeves, more concerned with getting as close to you as possible. Your scent enveloping him made him feel so safe despite the intense pain he was in, and that only made him sob harder. You knew the movement from crying so hard must hurt considering how bad his injuries were, so you patted his hair soothingly, wrapping an arm over his waist and hip—the least damaged section of skin you could find—to hold him closer. It took a moment to realize that it wasn’t just his cries filling the room, you were crying with him. 

The cops gave up on pulling you away from him, so you sat like that for several minutes. The voices in the room seemed very far away, not that you could hear very well anyway over your own breathing and pounding heartbeat. Someone touched your shoulder, lightly trying to pull you away. You shook them off with a terrified cry that didn’t even seem human. It was a primal wail of heartbreak and terror at even the hint of separating you from Yoongi.

“Noona.” A warm voice broke through your emotional haze. “Noona, hyung, it’s Hoseok. It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

You lifted your face from where it was buried in Yoongi’s hair, and found Hoseok standing there, emergency response bag in hand.

“Hobi,” you said, voice barely holding. “Help him.” Despite your words, you didn’t let Yoongi go, only turning with him in your arms so Hoseok could get a look at his back. He packed some gauze onto the wounds and then waved over two men with a stretcher.

“We’ve gotta get him to a hospital. The staff at my hospital is fantastic, they’ll look after you.” You bristled as the two paramedics settled Yoongi on his stomach on the stretcher, never letting go of his hand.

“You aren’t coming with us?” you asked. 

“Yoongi-hyung isn’t the only person here who needs medical attention. Some of them are going straight to the shelter. I need to stay and help out.”

“Take us to the shelter too,” you decided. “Someone else can go to the hospital. I only trust you and Jin’s staff.”

“Noona…”

“Hoseok,” Yoongi, mumbled into the cushion of the stretcher. He winced as he spoke, not continuing, but you both took it as him weighing in on the argument. Hoseok sighed and turned to the paramedics.

“Take them to Remedy shelter. Taehyung will be waiting for you at the emergency entrance.” Hoseok placed a comforting kiss on top of your head and hurried off to help elsewhere.

The ambulance ride was silent and tense as you hovered over the paramedics’ every move. You shot daggers at them when Yoongi so much as winced. You knew it wasn’t their fault, but your protective instincts were in overdrive, especially after having failed him so recently.

Taehyung was indeed waiting at the emergency entrance for you. Other ambulances were also unloading patients. Apparently Detective Moon had been serious about the extent of the raids taking place that night. Tae was frantically checking patients in and dealing with drivers and medical staff.

“Yoongi-hyung!” he cried, abandoning the conversation he’d been having as soon as the ambulance doors opened. He appeared around the door, eyes puffy and red, obvious tear tracks staining his cheeks. His voice hiccuped as he spoke and it made more tears fall from your eyes. To be honest they had never really stopped. Yoongi didn’t answer, passed out from a combination of pain, pain-killers, and exhaustion. Tae looked at you anxiously, the question clear in his eyes.

“He’s- He’ll be okay. I think he’ll be okay,” was all you managed.

A doctor met you at the door. He was young, handsome, and remarkably calm. “Dr. Ko Shinwon,” he introduced himself as the paramedics wheeled Yoongi to a trauma bay and transferred him to a hospital bed. They briefed Dr. Ko on Yoongi’s condition before returning to the ambulance. A nurse stepped in to assist him as Dr. Ko started working.

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside,” another nurse asked. She placed a gentle hand on your arm to guide you away.

“No! No, I can’t leave him.” You stepped closer to Yoongi’s side. 

“Miss, I really have to insist.”

Yoongi groaned, making Dr. Ko and the nurses glance at him. He slipped his hand off the edge of the bed and felt for your fingers, threading them together and holding on tightly. “Noona, please,” he whimpered.

“It’s fine, Nurse Jung. Please just try to keep out of the way, miss.” He gave you a serious, appraising look before going about his tasks. You crouched next to Yoongi, gently petting his hair and whispering sweet nonsense, shushing and cooing every time he winced at pain that managed to cut through the numbing. The stitches were the worst part, and it was all you could do to avert your eyes and not pass out. Once the wounds were dressed Dr. Ko excused himself to see his next patient and the nurses checked monitors and IVs. They told you to call if anything changed, then slipped out and pulled the curtain shut.

A few moments later Yoongi shuddered and whimpered a little. “Cold,” he said. 

You straightened and looked around, spotting a blanket folded in the cupboard next to the bed. You pulled it out with the hand Yoongi wasn’t clinging to and draped it over him. Then you paused, considering. Yoongi shivered again and you quickly made up your mind, slipping under the blanket next to him. Your body was only half way on the bed, wanting to leave more than enough room for him, but you didn’t care. He immediately shifted, wincing a little at the movement, and settled with his head on your chest, side pressed tightly to yours. You ran your hands through his hair. 

You sat quietly for a while, listening as his breathing evened out and his muscles relaxed. The familiar warmth reminded you of the night before, and the thought brought tears to your eyes again. How could you have been so blind to Yoongi’s feelings? You hurt him so badly, and you almost lost him because of it. You held back from crying harder again, not wanting to disturb Yoongi, but your guilt over the whole situation ate at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, looking lovingly at the boy before you.

“‘m sorry, noona.” 

You startled at the sound of his voice, surprised he was listening. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Made you uncomfortable. Shouldn’t have done that. Made you worry. ‘s bad. Sorry.”

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. You aren’t bad. My sweet honey boy, you are so perfect. I love you,” you said. Your voice was thick with emotion but you said the words clearly, with certainty.

Yoongi chuckled, flinching as he did so. You could feel the movement against your chest. “Not the same. ’s okay. Doesn’t have to be the same. Just let me love you ‘n I’m okay.”

You craned your neck to look at him. “What if it is the same? Yoongi, it is the same. I love you so much, I can’t believe you haven’t seen through me yet.” He tilted his head up to face you, uncertainty creasing his brow. You smiled softly and ran your thumb over his face to smooth out the wrinkle. “I love you, Yoongi.” You hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a firm but gentle kiss to his lips. You’d imagined doing this an embarrassing number of times, but somehow, they were even softer than you expected. The kiss only lasted a second before you pulled away, examining his face for a reaction. He didn’t disappoint, gracing you with the gummy smile that could single-handedly keep your heart beating. His eyelids were heavy, but he clearly had things to say.

“Love you,” he mumbled. His next words were more or less unintelligible.

“Shh,” you stopped him, running your fingers through his hair and scratching gently at his ears. “Talk tomorrow.”

He grumbled a protest, but didn’t try to say anything more. Instead he leaned his face up toward you expectantly. You chuckled and gave him three quick pecks, one on his forehead, one on his button nose, and one on his pouty lips. He smiled into that last kiss, then nuzzled into your neck where your scent was strongest. The combination of your perfume and your natural fragrance lulled him into unconsciousness within minutes, one of his hands finding the soft flesh of your hip to knead at. You smiled, wiped the tears from your cheeks with your free hand, and closed your eyes.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Yoongi was in the hospital for two weeks. The beating had done some internal damage and the doctors were concerned about infection in the lacerations on his back. The boys helped out, taking care of things at the cafe so you could spend every possible moment by Yoongi’s bedside. 

The relief you felt when they gave him the okay to go home was indescribable. It felt like you finally had permission to get back to normal. But of course, things weren’t entirely back to normal. Sometimes it felt like all the progress Yoongi made when he came to live with you had evaporated. He was jumpy and timid again, shying away from the boys when they came around. He even flinched away from you sometimes when you moved too fast. 

You realized quickly that you couldn’t have him working with the public in the cafe again. Not yet. So Jimin and Jungkook picked up extra shifts whenever they could. You thanked them at least once every time you saw them, but they just brushed you off. You had to fight tooth and nail for them to take the pay for their extra hours. Every time you had to leave Yoongi and look after the business it broke your heart. He always watched you walk out the door as if you might not come back to him.

One particularly warm spring afternoon Jimin burst into the cafe, running late and still wearing his clothes from dance practice.

“Sorry I’m late, noona! Let me go get changed,” he panted as he slipped behind the counter.

“No worries. You can use my room to change in.” You nodded back toward the apartment and he ran off to get cleaned up for work. When he reemerged barely ten minutes later he managed to look more put together than you did after a half hour of effort. His bubble-gum pink hair nicely coiffed instead of the disheveled state it was in when he arrived.

“How do you always look so nice?” you marveled. You reached up and scratched his ear, careful not to disturb his neatly styled hair. He purred happily at the compliment. You hoped someday Yoongi might purr as freely as Jimin did.

“Thanks!” Jimin smiled, eyes turning to little crescent lines as he did. “I can take it from here. You should get back to Yoongi-hyung.” He paused for a moment, like he wanted to say something else. “Noona, aren’t you guys…?” He let the words hang in the air, but you knew what he was asking.

The truth was, after your confession that night in the hospital, you hadn’t really talked about your relationship. With everything that happened, it just never seemed like the right time. You spent much of the time since then wrapped in Yoongi’s arms, or him in yours, even placing the occasional peck on his cheek. But it was like both of you feared going any further. You saw the hesitation in his eyes everytime he stood just a little too close to you, or looked into your eyes a little too long. He couldn’t seem to find the courage to say or do anything, and you didn’t want to push him too far. He would make a move when he was ready, right? 

You blinked, realizing Jimin had been waiting for you to speak while you stared into space. “I- I don’t know, Jimin. We were. At least I thought we were… something. I told him I loved him, in the hospital.” Jimin’s eyes widened, a hint of a smile on his lips. You leaned on the counter and let out a sigh before continuing. “He seemed happy. He even said it back. But we haven’t talked about it since then. He was so high on adrenaline and painkillers then, I’m not even sure he knew what he was saying.”

Jimin stopped you before you could make any more excuses. “He knew. Noona, he’s loved you for so much longer than you realize. But you know better than anyone else how scared he must be. If you rejected him, he might never recover, so he can’t do anything at all. I’m sure he feels like you’re too good for him. He needs you to assure him that you love him, and he deserves that.” You looked at Jimin, amazed at the wisdom he’d just dropped out of nowhere. He smiled, clearly pleased with the advice he’d given and your reaction. “I sounded pretty cool just now, huh?”

You grinned pulling him into a vicious bear hug. “Yes my sweet Chim Chim, you were super cool just now. Thank you.” You pulled back and he examined your face, clearly reading the nervousness there and in your scent. “I need to go talk to Yoongi.”

You took a steadying breath and he patted your shoulder. “Fighting!” he cheered as he waved you off.

Back in the apartment dinner was already finished. Yoongi was waiting at the table scrolling on his phone.

“I’m sorry I’m late Yoongs! Let me go change real quick.” You quickly peeled off your work clothes and put on shorts and a tank top, knowing the apartment was already warm, and it would be warmer when Yoongi inevitably wanted snuggles later. You returned to the table and took a chair across from him.

“Wow, this looks great!” You looked over the table, genuinely impressed. Yoongi had been cooking a lot lately. He found it was a relaxing way to pass his time, and he loved to see you enjoy what he prepared. You’d purchased several new kitchen tools and appliances for him, and he used them all. “Did you make this pasta yourself?” you asked, incredulous as he served you a generous slice of lasagna. Glancing at the kitchen counter you found the pasta press out, still dusted with flour. He nodded bashfully in response.

“This is my first attempt, so don’t expect too much. I’m just hoping it’s edible.” You both laughed and dug into the food. It was great. All of Yoongi’s first attempts seemed to end up delicious, unlike your kitchen misadventures.

After dinner you settled onto the couch together. He was sprawled half on top of you, laying between the back of the couch and your body, head on your shoulder. He was focused on the TV—he’d been watching obsessed with old Iron Chef episodes of late—but you were focused on him, hands gently stroking his hair and ears. A satisfied smile spread on your face when the now-familiar rumble started from his chest. You decided that now, when he was happy and relaxed, was as good a time as any to talk about everything.

“Yoon?” you called softly, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“Hm?” He looked up at you questioningly.

“Can we talk about something?” You tried to phrase it in a non-threatening way and keep your tone light, but his brow still furrowed as he grabbed the remote to pause his show.

“What do you want to talk about?” He propped himself up on one elbow and avoided your eyes.

“It’s nothing bad. At least I really hope not,” you said with a nervous laugh that did little to ease Yoongi’s anxiety. “Do you remember that first night in the hospital?” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened, then looked away again. Clearly he remembered something. “Some of it. It’s a little blurry in spots. What about it?”

“We… We talked about some things. Do you remember that?” You looked at him expectantly, but he stayed quiet. “I told you I love you,” you said quietly.

He looked at you sharply. “That was real?” he asked, almost more to himself than to you.

“What?”

“I thought I dreamed that. I was on so much pain medication that I figured I was hallucinating or something. You- You actually said that?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yes. And I meant it. I still mean it. I’d like to be more than just your friend, if that’s something you want.” You put a hand on his cheek so he’d hold your gaze, stroking it gently with your thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yoongi said without hesitation. His eyes were glassy and he studied your face for a moment. Half of him expected this to be a cruel prank, but you didn’t laugh. You just smiled softly, admiring the soft features of his face. You reached down to clasp your other hand with his.

“Does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” you asked, still somehow nervous now that everything was out in the open. 

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed you. After a second he leaned back and looked at you to gage your reaction. You smiled and leaned up, bumping his nose with yours. He grinned and kissed you again. His lips moved against yours, gentle but you could feel the emotion in every move. You ran your fingers through his soft blond hair, tugging on it a little and he nipped teasingly at your lip. You let out a surprised gasp and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You enthusiastically followed his lead, wrapping your leg over his hip to pull his body closer to yours. Your hand pulled free from his to rest on his waist. He shuddered as you trailed your fingers down his side. The hand not supporting his weight grabbed your hip. Your fingers found the edge of his t-shirt and slid under it, finding the warm skin of his back.

At the feeling of your fingers on his bare skin he tensed, breaking the kiss. You looked at him confused, but immediately stopped touching him, removing your leg and releasing your gentle grip on his hair. He sat up, his body shaking a little.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you okay?” you asked, growing concerned at his obvious distress.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just.” He squeezed his eyes shut and slowed his breathing. You waited, resting your hand palm up on your lap so he could take it if he wanted to. He did. He twined your fingers together and took a longer, slower breath before he spoke. “I’ve never had someone I actually like, y’know, touch me, or kiss me. It felt nice, but when you touched my skin, my scars…” Your fingers tightened on his hand, heart aching as you realized what he was getting at. “I just started to remember all the bad times, the bad people, the things they did, the things they made me do.”

“We can go as slow as you need. Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s enough for me.”

He huffed, frustrated tears welling in his eyes. “I just- I want this. I love you and I trust you. I hate that I’m letting them take this from me; letting them beat me.”

“Hey.” You wiped a tear from his cheek and kissed his forehead. “They are not beating you. You’re here, with me. You are safe and healthy. You’re still able to love someone, and you are loved. You have a family. Despite everything you’ve been through, you survived. Sure, you have scars, but you’re working hard to heal. I am so proud of you, Yoongi. You deserve a happy ending, and you’ll get one. We both will.”

“You think?”

“I know. I promise, we’ll get through this.”

He nodded and lay back down, resting his head on your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat. You resumed the forgotten episode of Iron Chef and went back to playing with his hair. You were just dozing off, his purr lulling you to sleep, when Yoongi spoke again.

“Noona?”

“Mhm?”

“I really love you.”

You smiled, already half in a dream. “I love you too, honey boy.” You kissed his head and fell asleep with your face tucked in his hair.

#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #hybrid!au #cafe!au #hybrid!yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi

[pillow-anime-talk]

jealous!s/o.

request: hello! i love your writing so much! can i request for murasakibara’s gf being jealous and upset because they’re from different schools and they don’t get to see each other much + there’s a girl who always hangs around him

# tags: scenario; long distance & current relationship; romance; mild drama; but also fluff; sfw

includes: female reader ft. atsushi murasakibara {knb}

author’s note: murasakibara my baby 😭 

You smiled at the phone, then walked into Yosen High, looking around carefully. The school was really big and beautiful compared to your regular, small and old Morioka High School in Iwate prefecture. But you didn’t come here to see the buildings. You wanted to spend the weekend with your boyfriend because you had already talked to your parents and Atsushi’s parents a week earlier about it. They gladly agreed to your trip to Akita so that you could give your tall boy a small gift in the form of your own arrival and a few packs of his favorite (and new) snacks.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that you lived three hours away from each other, and you had a lot of activities at school and after classes, you couldn’t see each other as often as you would like. Of course, you spent Christmas, anniversaries, holidays and birthdays together, but during the school year it was difficult to realize it. You had to be content with conversations on the phone, video calls and hundreds of text messages.

Luckily you didn’t go to school today and took the train to Akita instead. Atsushi’s mother and his older sister were waiting for you on the platform, so you took your bag to their house, took a quick shower after the trip, put on more comfortable pants and a loose shirt, and thanked them for everything, taking only your black bag, wallet with some money, phone and headphones. Mrs. Murasakibara wanted to drive you to her son’s school, but you refused with a warm voice saying that you would be happy to take a walk. You helped yourself with a Google Maps and finally reached the High School building, entering it.

Earlier, you wrote a little with your soft giant’s friend – Himuro – who told you that today the Yosen school basketball team will have another training session and you should come on it. He described the way to the gym for you and said he would keep Murasakibara in the gymnasium for as long as necessary.

Fortunately, you managed to come to training, or rather a short break between games, so you breathed a sigh of relief.

You stuck your head out from behind the wall and looked around the large room.

Although you’ve been to Atsushi’s house more than once, his school was new and strange to you. The same could be said for most of your boyfriend’s team, since you only knew Tatsuya. But they seemed nice and lovely, so you smiled gently.

After a while, however, the smile on your face turned into a small frown when you felt a hit on your waist and heard a girly laugh.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t notice you, little one.”

You looked up, noticing a girl slightly taller than you. You nodded at her as you looked inside the room again.

“Are you a fan?” She asked suddenly, drawing your attention again.

“No. Not really...”

“Oh. So... You like someone from basketball team? But you’re not from our school, I’m right?” She chuckled as she adjusted her uniform. “Anyway, you can take anyone but not Murasakibara. I like him. And, you know. I was first.” She added in a confident voice, and you raised an eyebrow and clenched your fists.

‘Is she just...’

“Anyway, bye. I’m going to say ‘hi’ to him.” She add at the end, entering the room, swinging her hips. 

Most of the team sighed at the sight of her figure, but your boyfriend was busy yawning though, so he didn’t notice her at first. Coach Araki too.

You also shyly entered the room, clenching your hands on your purse and the phone which was still in your hand. You wanted to call Atsushi, but the tall blonde girl was faster than you and patting him on the back. When he looked at her, she give him a pack of colorful jelly beans and smiled.

“Hello, Atsushi-kun.”

‘Did she greet him by first name?’ Your smile faded even more, and your cheeks flushed with anger. At the same moment your presence was noticed by Himuro and the boy with ashen hair. They immediately approached you.

“Y/N-chan, hi. I thought you were lost or something...” The black-haired man laughed softly and then introduced you to the basketball player next to you, known as Kensuke Fukui.

“... Who is she?” You asked hesitantly, pointing at the girl.

“Murasakibara’s annoying fangirl. But he doesn’t pay attention to she. I mean, he doesn’t even remember her name, so don’t worry.” The new boy you met a few seconds ago truthfully answered, and you sighed.

“I came here especially for Atsu, but now I’m afraid to come up to him...” You muttered a bit sad and also upset, still looking at your tall boyfriend and the unknown young girl who was telling him something with big interest.

“As I said, don’t worry, Y/N-chan. I’ll call him. He will definitely be pleased. You know, he was complaining all day about that you didn’t write back to him.” Tatsuya laughed second time, patting you on the shoulder, then looked at his best friend. “Hey, Atsushi! Look who’s here!”

“Ehh? What's it, Muro-chin?” Your boyfriend turned and the two tall basketball players exposed your tiny body, causing purple-haired center to open his eyes wider. “Y/N-chin...” He handed the pack of jelly beans to the girl standing next to him and ran towards you like a little, happy puppy.

Five steps later he was beside you, hugging you to his warm chest, and you kissed his cheek, laughing loudly.

“Surprise, ‘Sushi.”

“Y/N-chin, what are you doing here, huh?” He grunted, picking you up and hugging you once again. “Do your parents know about this?”

“Well, I missed you so much. Everyone knew except you, because it’s a surprise, baby. Oh, I also have some of your favorite snacks for you. I was able to buy a new flavor... salt caramel or something like that.” You laughed, and his eyes flashed with joy.

“I love you.” He muttered. “I hate jellies and she keeps bringing them to me all the time... I prefer maiubo from you. Aaaand I generally prefer my Chibi-chin. Will you stay with me today?”

“I love you too. And, yes. I will stay for the whole weekend, baby.”

“Mmm. I am very pleased.” He hugged you again and then put you on the ground, placing his big hand on your head. “Want to play with us?”

“If your coach and captain don’t mind...”

“They don’t, come on, Y/N-chin.” He grabbed your smooth hand and walked towards the team. “I will introduce you to everyone.”

“Okay, baby.”

“... And you, young lady, please, leave the sports hall. Only players, coaches, managers and people who are welcome are allowed to enter gym.” Mrs. Araki spoke suddenly with her sword in her hand, and the blonde girl escaped from the huge room a moment later with pinky cheeks.

#— 🍓 #knb #knb imagines #knb scenarios #knb x reader #knb x y/n #knb x you #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket imagines #kuroko no basket scenarios #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basket x you #kuroko no basquet #kuroko no basquet imagines #kuroko no basquet scenarios #kuroko no basquet x reader #kuroko no basquet x you #kuroko no basquet x y/n #murasakibara atsushi #murasakibara atsushi imagines #murasakibara x reader

[poutyhannie]

Part two!! You can find part one on my blog, its the only other one hehe. Once again, feedback is much appreciated! 

warnings: smut, fluff, oral, fem!reader receiving, car sex with a twist ;), post date sexy time 

word count: +1.7

part 1, part 2

The white lights in the ice cream parlor cast a luminescence in Chan’s eyes that draws out a lighter brown color as he studies the flavors below him.  You really hope he picks vanilla or sweet cream or something white…not for any particular reason, you just liked the thought of it pooling at the sides of his plush lips and dribbling down his chin, running down his sweaty neck-

“Y/n?  You gonna get something?”  Chan’s concerned voice pierces through your embarrassing thoughts as you snap your eyes up to his.  He giggles at catching you off guard and nudges you softly with his shoulder, nodding at the ice cream case.  The pastel pink clad employee gives you a jaded stare and you quickly choose your go-to: artificial pink and blue cotton candy in a sugar cone.  A soft, endeared smile spreads across Chan’s face and he tells the worker that he’ll be getting strawberry cream.  You pout a little, but the mostly vanilla ice cream with chunks of strawberries will have to satisfy your fantasies.  Not that Chan would let the sweet trickle down his beautiful face, he’s always too clean for that, you realize to your dismay.  

Once again, Chan pays, claiming that you paid last time though you can’t really remember as you both head back to his car.  With one hand on the steering wheel, one cautiously gripping the cone, Chan drives to a secluded hill that overlooks the nightscape.  By this time, you’re already crunching down on the cone while Chan licks around the ice cream.  With his eyes trained on the twinkling lights in front of you, so it’s easy to just stare at him.  

His cherry red hair is messy and curls raise from his neck, the same curls that you love playing with at night, when his head is on your chest and his breathing is all you can hear.  A wistful look overcomes his eyes as he turns them up to the heavenly bodies he’s so enraptured by.  Every time you both come up here, he always talks about constellations, meteors, and shooting stars.  The wonder and excitement in his eyes and voice whenever he does makes your heart swell and thank the stars for giving him so much joy.  You’ve decided to appreciate them more than before, just because Chan loves them so much.  

His voice this time, however, is distant as he rests his head on the headrest.  “Some civilizations thought that the stars were souls reincarnated so that their loved ones would have light in the night.”

You nod solemnly, “Yeah, like Mufasa.”

A choked laugh escapes from Chan’s throat as he stares at you in disbelief and amusement, “Like Lion King?”

Smiling, you nod again, “It would make sense, though.  That’s why there are so many.  And maybe shooting stars are people that momentarily died but came back and that’s why we wish on them, to have as much luck as them.”

Chan lets out a low, “Hmm, I’d never thought of that before.  Maybe constellations are families or groups of friends.”

A slow smile spreads across your face as you complete Chan’s sentence, “So then, you can stay with your loved ones after death.”  He nods, looking over at you with what you can only describe as admiration and contentment.  

You’ve long finished your ice cream but Chan’s just started on his cone.  He mistakes your stare as a silent plead, smiling softly as he offers you a bite.  Your mind is made up in a split second, you very slowly, while looking straight at Chan with doe eyes, take a long lick of his ice cream, flicking it back into your mouth.  You smirk as Chan stares at you, shocked before rushing to quickly eat his cone.  

“You wanna use that promise from last time, babygirl?”

Finally.  

You’ve moved into the cool night breeze as Chan lays down on the roof of his car, patting his chest, a smirk on his face.  You whine, tugging at his black t shirt, “No, take this off please.”

He laughs softly and sits up to swiftly do so.  The pale, milky white of Chan’s chest provides beautiful contrast to the dark night sky and you really can’t help but stare at him.  Like the flirt he is, Chan gives you a wink before laying back down on the roof.  It really doesn’t help because  the anticipation has a coil tightening in your stomach as you can feel the uncomfortable wetness sticking your panties to your hot core.  You pull your simple black panties off, tossing them on top of Chan’s shirt, which rests on the hood.  

“Y’know, Channie I’d really like to keep my skirt on, but I wanna see your pretty eyes.”

The thought of your bare ass out in the open night air causes Chan’s semi to harden just a bit more than he’d like to admit.  Of course though, seeing it is better than imagining and when you unzip your pastel purple skirt, Chan groans loudly.  The cool air hits your hot thighs and dripping pussy, making you clench around nothing.  Chan pulls you by your hands to him, your wetness rubbing against his glorious abs.  The friction makes you quiver against Chan’s lips.  Though his abs provide a cold surface to rut on, Chan’s neck is hot as you press open mouthed kisses and make red marks all over it.  

Your hands are in his red hair and plays with his soft curls, a contrast to your vicious teeth, ravaging his pretty neck.  Chan’s sharp Adam’s apple bobs as his tent grows and you pull back.  

“What if someone comes up here, Chan?”  You ask dumbly, realizing you should have asked this when he pulled you out of the car.  Beneath you, Chan gives you a cheeky, wide smile.  

“Then you’d better get to it, babygirl,” he says, smacking your ass lightly.  

You give him a half hearted glare—the ache in your core is too much to ignore for too long.  The car roof is smooth under your knees as you lower your dripping, hot core onto Chan’s puckered lips.  When he give a tentative lick, your arms shoot out onto the roof, catching you.  

“M-more,” you whisper, beginning to grind on Chan’s face.

His cold hands grip your bare thighs tightly and he sticks his tongue into you, nodding his head to your tempo.  His wet mouth fans hot breaths into you and you squeeze Chan’s head between your thighs.  You feel his lips curl into a smile and you look down to see Chan’s adorable cheek  squished between your thighs.  His eyes form smiling crescents and you let out a giggle, “You’re so cute, Channie.”

He cocks an eyebrow and you know he’d say something along the lines of ‘even while you’re riding my face?’.  

When his teeth snag your clit, you double forward again, using your arms as leverage to grind down harder on Chan’s face.  No doubt Chan’s grip on your thighs will leave bruises and you tremble at the thought.  Reading your mind, Chan removes his hands, making you whine loudly.  While he runs caresses up your right thigh, his other hand finds its way up to rub your swollen bud.  Your high pitched, embarrassing moan has you biting down on your shoulder, afraid to alert anyone in the area.  Annoyed by this, Chan shoves two long, ringed fingers into your core.  The underside of his rings are warm from gripping your skin but the tops of them are cold from the night air and your jaw lets go of your shoulder, moaning with no regards for anyone but the man under you.  He curls his fingers, beckoning your orgasm closer, scissoring deep into you.  You feel his rings clink together.  

Its coming faster than you want; you don’t want this moment, overcome by euphoria, to end.  You cry out, trying your absolute best to hold out though your thighs burn from the repetitive motion.  

Chan removes his fingers, trailing your arousal on your thigh before clutching your hips still.  His tongue continues its swirling, thrusting assault into you and you gasp as it becomes harder to fend off your orgasm.  His lips press into your clit harshly, spreading your folds apart.  You feel his hand move down and his grunts as he pulls down his pants, almost frantically jacking off.  The thought of how this looks causes you to loose your motivation to hold out.  “I-I’m gonna come,” you whine, ready to let go.  Chan’s tongue slows down and you cry out as you realize he’s telling you to wait.  Despite his almost lethargic tongue movements, you feel his hand quickly maneuver over his undoubtedly aching dick.  Tears spring in your eyes as you can’t go anymore.

When Chan groans into your core, you feel hot ropes of Chan’s cum spray onto ass and probably onto Chan’s abs.  Your body spasms in pleasure as your high crashes over you.  It has your eyes rolling into your head, your toes curling, and a high-pitched cry torn from your throat.  Chan’s tongue licks you up and you can’t wait to see his face covered in your juices.

Pulling back shakily and weakly, you collapse onto Chan’s chest, ignoring his cum on both of you.  With a dumb smile on his face, he looks down at you and you swear you could come again from the sight before you.  His hair sticks out from your constant tugging and his eyes are hazy and droopy from lust.  His red lips glisten in from your cum, which coats his chin and is so slowly dribbling down to cover his jawline.  

His voice is thick and low, “Is this what you were thinking about when I was eating my ice cream, babygirl?”

Tiredly, you nod your head as the burning in your thighs subsides, moving to cuddle into Chan’s arms.  You lick up your arousal from his neck, tracing the trail up to his swollen lips.  The kiss is sloppy, a mix of your cum and both of your saliva.  Its hot and messy, but Chan’s hand gently strokes your cheek.

#bangchan smut #bang chan #skz smut #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #bangchan imagine #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #skz dark hours #skz blurbs #skz bangchan #stray kids bangchan #does this count as a one shot? its part two sooo

[tim-burton-bitch]

Tw: pre-romantic prinxiety, breakdowns, crying, semi-shitty writing, I think cursing this has been sitting in google for a while I wrote this back in like early November at 3 am let me know if there's any others oh and FWSA spoilers

This was written at like 3am and follows a headcanon of Roman having synesthesia in which he paints and describes sounds as imagery and an idea from a comic (unsure who wrote it) where Janus never actually told the dark sides his name this is hurt/comfort right after SvS Redux this also follows the fact Virgil is CENTER BRAIN FIGHT OR FLIGHT IS THE AMYGDALA GUYS CAN SOMEONE ELSE PLEASE DO CENTER BRAIN VIRGIL CONTENT I'M STARVED OF IT anyways and my headcanon that he is also in charge of things that either trigger anxiety or are triggered by anxiety such as depression and neuro-diversity my take on the purple eyeshadow and semi-soft side of Virgil my second oneshot takes place in this same timeline and can be found here

Word count: 2,485 words

Virgil was in his room listening to his music. He had his sketchbook across his lap, his art case was open beside him. Currently he was half way through Soft Shock. He wasn't particularly listening, it was more for background noise than anything. He was humming along absent mindedly drawing as his mind wandered.

Suddenly he snapped back to reality as he felt the bed beneath him sink down with sudden weight. He looked up startled instinctively covering his art, which he now realized was a profile of Roman. He looked to see said prince he had just been drawing in front of him. Roman was looking down at his hands. It was quiet for a moment, Virgil was just about to ask what the hell Roman was doing there when the Prince began to shake. Virgil was speechless as the small shakes quickly turned into jerky sobs. Virgil stared at Roman for a second before closing his sketchpad and reaching a hand towards to crying prince.

"Princey, hey Princey what's... what's wrong?" Virgil didn't understand. He had chosen to stay in his room and calm down instead of taking part in the video. The wedding hadn't gone well and Thomas wasn't the only one thoroughly upset about it. Virgil hadn't thought anything of his decision figuring Thomas could vent about it all on his own to the others. The anxious side needed some down time to calm both his and Thomas' nerves. Now. He was beginning to question the decision.

At first Roman gave no response. He just continued to shake letting tears slip out. Virgil's hand never moved from his shoulder. Being the side in charge of Thomas' amygdala meant he knew how sometimes you just needed to cry a moment with company. With no judgment, no constant pushing to know what's wrong. Just a shoulder to cry on as you gather your thoughts.

Roman looked up. His eyes met Virgil's and he took a shaky breath. "I-" He felt another wave of tears hit him. He paused trying not to cry anymore than he already had. He felt embarrassed. He had meant to come here and invite Virgil to another Disney marathon. Take his mind off of what had happened. Instead he broke down. An how was that fair on Virgil?

"Shhh it's ok take your time. There's no rush to tell me what happened. If you don't want to tell me that's fine too. Sometimes you just nee company, a shoulder to cry on. Believe me I understand. Tell me when you're ready and only if you want okay?" Virgil's voice was soft and understanding. And yet. He didn't sound condescending in the slightest. Roman had never heard Virgil use this tone of voice. It was calming. He felt.... safe and... listened to. He nodded his head realizing Virgil was still waiting for a response of some kind. Virgil gave him his small sweet smile that never failed to melt Roman's heart.

Roman took a deep breath before saying, "I-I do wanna tell you Virge... I do. I just..." He swallowed back another lump of emotion. He couldn't even explain the problem. What was WRONG with him? And yet, despite Roman never finding the words to explain... Virgil's eyes were understanding. Soft and warm, looking at Roman so invitingly. Roman hesitated before leaning in and clinging onto the anxious side in front of him and sobbing. Virgil was startled and Roman clung to his body. He was used to being the one breaking down and he wasn't sure how he could help much. Then again, he WAS the one to break down usually. What helped him? Or what did he wish people would do to help?

Virgil slowly wrapped his arms around Roman's head. Pulling him down into his lap. Letting the fanciful side bury his face into Virgil's shoulder. He softly began to run a hand through Roman's hair, hoping this didn't upset the prince more. He began quietly calming the man in his arms whispering into his ear that he was here. And he wasn't going anywhere, no matter what happened he was there as Roman needed him.

Roman pulled back swiping at his eyes sniffling quietly. He looked down at his lap sniffling once more before murmuring "I-I'm sorry." Despite having pulled back he was still directly in front of Virgil, who was still leaning against the headboard now giving him a questioning look. "For... for this. For... whatever THIS is...." Roman trailed off looking back down at his shaking hands. "It's- it's stupid... I don't know why I'm crying really, I-" he trailed off again.

Virgil leaned forward placing his hands over Roman's to calm him. "Roman it isn't stupid. Whatever this is about clearly bothered you a lot and your feelings are entirely valid no maatter-”

"NO! Virgil it isn't fair on you I'm just bothering you with my problems and you had nothing to do with any of what happened. It isn't fair on you for me to drag you into my problems!" Roman cut Virgil off tears beginning to well up in his eyes again. Virgil stared at him. He was stunned and the look on Roman's face hurt Virgil's heart more than anything ever had.

Virgil sat up properly, taking his hands back to do so. He brought one hand back forward to grab one of Roman's the other reaching out and cupping the prince's face. "Hey, shhh.... it's okay, I promise," Virgil's whisper was soft and comforting as he slowly wiped away a few more stray tears from Roman's face. His other hand rubbing circles comfortingly on the back of Roman's, "Roman whatever bothered you really is valid. And I'm not upset you came here. In fact it's the opposite. I'm glad you trust me enough to come to me with this." He paused, "Roman. You can come to me whenever you need to, whenever you feel like this. I'll listen when you need to vent and I'll be here when you break down. I am HAPPY to help you in anyway I can so please, PLEASE don't invalidate your feelings or think in anyway this inconveniences me. Or bothers me or anything, okay? Can you promise me that?"

Roman was quiet, he stared into VIrgil's dark warm welcoming orbs. Slowly he nodded. Virgil smiled, "So, did you want to tell me what happened or just sit and watch something or whatever?"

Roman laughed, his heart was still heavy and felt weighted down but he couldn't help it. The laughter was short lived though, he let out a sigh as he rubbed a hand down the side of his face. Taking a deep breath in he turned to Virgil and asked, "Do you think lying has it's place?"

Virgil looked at him questioningly as he shifted suddenly a tad uncomfortable. "Well..." he started. Thinking on his answer. He hummed thoughtfully, "Is this about lying as a concept or about Deciet?" he asked suddenly.

Roman looked down and sighed again, "Both I guess...." he turned towards Virgil, "Janus stopped by today during the video. And things got a little complicated, and now I'm confused and don't know what is right or wrong. Everything is upside down and Patton Logan and Thomas are agreeing with Janus and- a-a-and I feel... useless. And I don't know...." He sighed tears streaking down his face again, "I was meant to be Thomas' hero. But lately... I feel more and more like I'm steering him wrong. I-"

Virgil cut Roman off suddenly, "Okay great that we're making headway and all, but... I'm going to have to ask you to backtrack a second before we dive into the angst." Roman looked puzzlingly at Virgil who was quiet a second before asking, "Er... Who- who's Janus?"

Roman stared at VIrgil unsure if he was joking. But Virgil's face was purely confused, his head cocked to the side just slightly, eyebrows knit together one slightly raised his left eye the slightest bit closed and a small pout on his lips. Roman's heart stuttered as he continued to stare at Virgil in astonishment. "Has... has Deceit never told you his name is Janus?"

It was Virgil's turn to stare at Roman, "No???? He hasn't???"

Roman laughed, "I could HEAR the multiple question marks in your voice! Oh my God!" Virgil continued to stare before bursting into a fit of laughter himself.

Tears formed in Virgil's eyes as the shadows beneath his eyes became a brilliant purple. He brought his hand up to rub the mirth from his eyes. "Oh my God! I mean we ARE gay!" he laughed. His laughter cut short when he noticed Roman was staring at him.

Suddenly realizing he didn't have his usual foundation and concealer on with his black eyeshadow to cover those awful freakish markings beneath his eyes he quickly stopped laughing. Romans eyes were still on him and Virgil began to panic.

While Virgil had this realization Roman was having two entirely different realizations. One being that he never heard Virgil TRULY laugh before. He had yet to even fully redgistered the purple shadow that was suddenly black again, far to caught up in the sound of Virgil's laughter ringing in his ears. God, he could listen to that sound until he died and never grow annoyed of it.

"Virgil- You- your laugh! I've never heard it before! I mean I've heard you chuckle and snort sometimes but... WOW...." Virgil stared at the man in front of him. The tone used by the fanciful side before him describing his laugh made his heart skip a beat. He could feel the shadow beneath his eyes going purple and his face going pink.

"I- I guess... I don't know... it's not like it's anything special.... kinda... loud and annoyin really..."

"NONSENSE!! Virgil your laugh! I- I don't even know how to describe it! It's like... like the sound of waves crashing against the cliffside, with the wistling of wind as you walk along a cliff overlooking the sea, JUST before a storm, that breathtaking sound which breaks the ear clogging silence caused by the overhanging clouds. And yet, it IS the ear clogging silence that you enjoy with the sound of the crashing waves and wistling wind." As the words flew from Roman's mouth Virgil's blush deepend his shadow growing all the more purple. Until it was so vibrant there was no missing it even in the darkly lit room. "Virgil... your eyeshadow. Wasn't it black when I came in? Surely I would have noticed by now if it was such a wonderous purple as what lies beneath your eyes now," Roman's calling attention to the shadow caused Virgil to panic once again and the shadow to go a deep black, confusing Roman all the more. "Virgil what? How?"

"I- well- um..." Virgil's voice was small as his heart rate increased.

"Virgil it's okay, you can tell me whatever it is. I promise!"

Virgil took a deep breath turning away and hiding in his hoodie pulling up the hood. He glanced to Roman's awaiting confused face hands fidgeting with the hoodie's strings, "I-" he sighed, "The shadows under my eyes aren't eyeshadow... at least, not right now. They're a part of me, and tied to my emotions they go purple when I'm happy... the happier I am the more vibrant the purple.... When I'm anxious start panicking over overthinking something... they go black, the more panicked I get... the darker they are." Virgil nervously glanced up at Roman who looked shocked. "Normally... I but on foundation and concealer to hide them, and then some black eyeshadow so if I forget to put makeup on or can't be bothered or someone comes across me when I don't expect someone to... they won't question why I suddenly have 'eyeshadow' beneath my eyes. I don't worry about it going purple because honestly... I never expect to be happy. I know it's- it's weird and I'm a fre-"

"VIRGIL THAT'S AMAZING!"

"Wha-"

"I mean not the part that you don't expect to be happy because that's just.... NO! But the rest of it? It's amaing! I love it! Not only does it look cool (in both black and purple) but then I can tell when you're truly really happy! And when you need a good Disneython! I'm assuming that when you're more happy than paniced it's still purple and wheen you're more panicked than happy black?" Virgil nodded. "And what about other emotions? Is it black or purple then?"

Virgil smiled, he always thought they wer freakish that the shadows were just more reminders that he was a freak, but Roman... Roman LIKED them. Virgil couldn't understand why he did, they were weird, but the way Roman's eyes lit with excitment, so starkly different from the dampened ocean filled eyes he had arrived with. "They tend to then settle for whatever I feel closer to then."

"Well I don't see why you cover them up, I love them. I think you should go out without makeup more often," Roman smiled at Virgil before letting out a laugh. "I just remembered I was going to tell you what happened with the video! But I think it can wait till later I wanna try to keep that purple there as long as possible! How does a nice Disneython in my room sound?"

Virgil grinned back at Roman, "That sounds great. And maybe... maybe I will! Go out without makeup that is." Roman laughed, "Oh and... thank you, Roman. For... making me feel less alone, and less like a freak." Virgil gave Roman a small sweet smile before standing and heading to the door. "BET I CAN BEAT YOU TO YOUR RO-" Virgil paused his shouting as he flung open the door and almost ran into Patton.

"WOAH!" Patton cried out, "Slow down there kiddo! Have you seen Roman? He left the video upset and I've been looking for him since and it's been- oh... hey Roman! Are you..."

"Yeah I'm fine Patton," Roman said from behind Virgil with a small smile of his own, "Thanks to Virgil here!"

"Well I'm glad though I wouldn't mind talking to you and apologi-"

"Maybe later? Patton? Virgil and I were about to go have another Disney marathon in my room!"

"Alright kiddos you two have a PatTON of fun then! Would you like me to bring food up to you or will you two be down for dinner?"

"We'll see Popstar, text you the answer later?" Virgil asked grinning feeling the shadow which had gone black when Patton startled him slowly but surely fading to a purple.

"Alright kiddos as long as you two actually eat this time! And not just popcorn!"

"Alright Patton! See you later!" And Roman and Virgil walked away heading to the prince's Disney covered room laughing and teasing the whole way.

Tag list:

@on-fic-writing-spree

#prinxiety #tss virgil #tss roman #tss patton #sander sides virgil #sander sides roman #sander sides patton #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #sander sides #my writing #my oneshot

[talatomaz]

shadow world | izzy lightwood x fray!reader

a/n: I just binged the series and I love Izzy sm. i might make this into a small series, I don’t know. this is mainly shadowhunters x reader tbh but there is still a bit of izzy content towards the end.

warnings: mentions of blood, death & kidnapping

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii | pt.iii

Reader is Clary’s younger half-sister who learns about the Shadow world at the same time Clary does

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Hey, Dad.”

“Afternoon, honey.”

You kissed your father’s cheek and welcomed the cup of coffee he placed in front of you. You sipped the beverage, not caring that it was still hot, welcoming the feeling. You had had a relatively long day. You had to do 2 huge group presentations and managed to complete your college’s weekly newsletter too.

“How was school?”

“It was okay, just glad it’s the weekend now.”

“Have you called your sister yet?”

You paused, gently placing the mug back on the table. It was your older sister’s, Clary’s, 18th birthday today. Though it was an important age, the day wasn’t going to be any different for you. As you always did, you’d FaceTime her, wish her a happy birthday and wait for your gift to arrive to her.

That was the trouble of living on the other side of the world.

When you were 13, you decided to leave your mother and sister to go live with your father who worked overseas in England; he worked for the Government, but doing what precisely, you didn’t know.

It was a welcome change. You didn’t get along as well as Clary did with your mother, often siding with your father on most things.

Of course, when it came to you and Clary, your father treated you both no differently, because even though he wasn’t Clary’s biological father, he was still one of her father figures.

The other was Luke, someone whom your Mum had a past with, though she neglected to share any further details about that.

“I spoke to her earlier but she’d just come out of an interview with Brooklyn Arts Academy. We celebrated a little because she got in but she’s gonna be busy with Simon today so we agreed to talk later.”

“Oh, good for her. I’m glad.”

You looked up when you heard unease in your father’s voice. Narrowing your eyes, you continued to stare at him before he looked at you in confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

You quickly brushed off the subject and your dad started to mention how he had to work late but voiced his reluctance to leave you alone. You frowned once more, he seemed really worried, as if something evil was looming. Shrugging it off once more, you and your father fell into a conversation about nothing in particular until he had to leave for work.

A few hours had passed and you were due to call Clary so you picked up your phone and dialled.

“Y/N, hey, um, can we talk later?”

You moved the phone away from your ear as you heard loud music blasting down the phone.

“Are you at a club? Clary, you know being 18 means you can only legally drink in England, not in the US.” You joked.

“I know. Look, I really have to go. I love you and I’ll try to phone you in a bit. I’m on my way home now. I need to speak to Mum about something.”

“Clary, are you okay?” You asked with concern. She sounded frightened and out of breath and her being in a club was very out of character for her.

“Yeah, yeah, I-I’m fine. Got to go. Love you, bye.”

You stared at your phone, the dial tone echoing in the silence. Sighing, you scrolled through your contacts and paused at the name. With a rush of confidence, you tapped the screen and held your phone to your ear, silently waiting for the other person to pick up.

“Y/N, hi, baby.”

“Hi, Mum.”

You were slightly on edge as you hadn’t spoken in a while. You knew your mother loved you but you always felt like she was hiding something from you, though you could never quite put your finger on it.

“Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. Listen, the reason I’m calling is because I just got off the phone with Clary and, I don’t know, she’s acting a bit weird. Is there something going on?”

“Yeah about that, your father and I need to have a talk with you and Clary. This isn’t something I wanted to do over the phone but-MOM.”

You winced when you heard, presumably Clary’s voice.

“Clary, what’s wrong? Y/N, give me 10 minutes and I’ll call you back. I love you.”

For the second time in 5 minutes, you had been hung up on, and frankly you were more concerned than you were annoyed. First your Dad, then Clary, now your Mum, what were they hiding?

The sound of key in the door jarred you from your thoughts. Finally, your Dad was home. You were going to get some answers.

As he locked the door behind him, your brows furrowed as you looked at the tattoos on his body. They weren’t there when he’d left earlier this afternoon.

“Dad, when did you get a tattoo?”

You watched as he looked down at himself and then as his eyes widened when he stared back at you.

“Y-You can see them?”

“Yeah, of course, I can see them. What’s going on? Clary’s freaking out. I just called Mum and she was about to tell me something but then she hung up. What is going on?” You repeated.

“God, I told Jocelyn we should have told you both sooner. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

“Dad, what’s happening?” You asked, unable to hide the fear in your tone.

Before he could answer, there was a loud crash and your front door lay flat on the ground, a man standing in the doorway.

“Where’s the cup, Winterthorn?” He hissed your father’s last name.

Your Dad pushed you behind him and you could only watch in shock when he pulled something out of his pocket and, the moment his hand touched it, a large blade engulfed in light appeared. Your father stabbed the intruder with it causing the latter to explode into pieces and disappear.

Your dad turned to face you and you continued to stare at him in shock.

“Here, hold this.”

He handed you the blade and ran towards your bedroom. The smell of smoke filled your senses and you stared at him.

“What the hell is happening?”

“There can’t be any trace of you. We were trying to keep you girls safe. That’s all we ever wanted.”

You opened your mouth to respond but felt yourself being pulled back into someone’s grasp.

“Let her go.”

“Give me the cup.”

With your father’s blade still in your hand, you willed yourself to calm down and remember your training.

From the first moment you moved in with your dad, he expressed his interest in training you to fight. You learned all about Sun Tzu as well as training with bo staffs and the like.

You were successfully able to remove yourself from the second intruder’s grasp but jumped back when his face opened up to reveal tentacles. Going off instinct and what you saw your dad do, you rammed the sword through the monster’s chest until it disintegrated like the one earlier.

“Dad, what the fuck?! I just killed someone.”

“A demon, y/n. You killed a demon.”

Your father grabbed your arm and brought out, what looked like, a pen, and began drawing something. You winced as you felt it burning into your skin and when he had finished, he waved the object over the marking and it lit up.

“This better work. Come on, we need to find a warlock so we can get to your Mum and sister.”

When he turned, another man was revealed to be standing in front of him. You watched in horror as the man stabbed your dad with his sword and then removed it. Your father fell to the ground with a groan, your eyes flickering to him and then at the man still standing in front of you.

“Where is the cup?”

He was now the third person to reference this mysterious cup but you were beyond confused.

He pushed you against the wall and held the sword, now coated with your father’s blood, against your neck.

“Tell me.”

“I-I don’t know. You stabbed him, you bastard.”

“Valentine will do much worse to you and your mother if you don’t tell me where the cup is.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What cup? Who the hell are you people?” You shouted at him, tears building in your eyes.

When he smirked at you, you felt anger rise through your body and without a second thought, you kicked his knee, giving you a moment to free yourself, only slightly cutting yourself on the blade.

You quickly picked up your father’s blade, having dropped it when he was stabbed, and you began to fight the male in front of you.

For a few minutes, the only sound that filled your house was the clanging of your blades but you winced when the blade cut your arm, blood seeping from the wound. You ducked to avoid another swipe of the blade then you span and stabbed the man in one fell swoop.

As he lay dead on the ground, you kicked the blade away from him and, still holding your Dad’s weapon, you ran back to him and tried to put pressure on the wound.

“Dad, please stay with me. Don’t die.”

“I-I’m so proud of you.” He breathed out.

“Dad, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get help.”

“Take the blade and m-my stele,” he handed you the object he used to mark the symbol on your skin. “Go to where I work, they’ll help you. Don’t let the Circle get the cup.”

“Dad! Dad, wake up!” You shouted, tears falling down your face as your father lay still in your arms.

“Y/N?”

You turned back, looking in shock when you saw your sister standing behind you, with two men and another woman beside her. More shockingly, you saw, what you could only describe as a purple glow, whirling behind them.

A raven-haired woman ran and fell to your side. You watched as she removed a stele from her pocket and waved it over one of your father’s tattoos.

“He’s gone.” She said, solemnly, looking at one of the males behind you who shared a striking resemblance with her, before looking at you with sad eyes.

“Izzy, we have to go. Come on. There could be more.”

She gently grabbed your arm and tried to pull you up but you stayed on the ground, your father in your arms.

“We have to go. It’s not safe.” She said, softly.

Reluctantly, you picked up the blade and your father’s stele, and allowed yourself to be lifted by the woman, whom you now knew was called Izzy. Holding your hand, she pulled you through the purple glow and when you passed through, you found yourself in...well, you didn’t know where exactly.

All conversation had ceased the moment you all had come through but then immediately continued. Through your tear-filled eyes, you looked around to take in your surroundings. The building you were in was filled to the brim with computers and all sorts of tech.

“What? Did you rob a tech store or something?”

“That’s what I said.”

You turned at the familiar voice and smiled despite the pain you were feeling.

“Hi, Simon.” He pulled you in for a hug and then cupped your face in his hands.

“What’s wrong? Why were you crying?”

“Simon-“ He was interrupted by your sister who moved to stand in front of you.

“I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around you, cradling your head against her neck. You reciprocated the hug but didn’t cry, you felt nothing. You didn’t know how to process the loss.

“Where’s Mum? Ry?” You asked, using your sister’s nickname when she remained silent.

“She’s been kidnapped.”

“What?”

Clary then explained what she saw at the club, how someone called Valentine had kidnapped your mother and was after the Mortal Cup.

“That’s what the guys at our house wanted. But Dad and I killed them and they disappeared. Wait, why are we even here? We should be talking to Luke, he’ll help us.”

“No, we can’t trust him. This is Jace, Izzy and Alec. They’re Shadowhunters like us. They can help us.”

“Shadowhunters? What the hell are you on about?”

“We’re angels who fight demons.” Jace said.

“Look, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking but I am not an angel.”

“You’ve got a stele and a seraph blade. Things we Shadowhunters use.”

“I-These are my dad’s. He gave them to me when-before he-“ You sighed, unable to bring yourself to say the words.

“I’m sorry.” Simon rubbed your arm in a gentle caress but gasped when he saw his hand covered in blood.

“Y/N, your arm’s bleeding.”

You glanced at the wound, remembering that it was from the guy who killed your dad, and shrugged.

“And your neck.” Clary said, quietly, as if imagining what you went through.

”Jace, can you do the same healing rune on y/n?”

“Yeah, of course.”

When Jace approached you with his stele, you stopped him.

“No, I don’t want you to do that. I’m fine.”

“At least let Izzy stitch and clean the wound then.” Alec spoke for the first time. He was a bit stand-offish but that was to be expected considering you were complete strangers.

Izzy nodded for you to follow her. You walked beside her as she led you to a room filled with first-aid equipment.

You both sat in silence as she cleaned the cut on your neck; you didn’t even flinch when she rubbed the antiseptic on the wound.

When she was about to stitch the cut on your arm, you stopped her. You took the thread from her and began suturing the cut yourself. She looked at you in amazement.

“I do-did a lot of sports so I got hurt a lot.“ You answered even though she didn’t ask anything. She just continued to stare at you and you couldn’t help but blush which then made her smirk.

“You should have let Jace use a healing rune on you. You’re gonna need it sooner or later.”

“A rune? Is that what they’re called? My Dad did this just before he-“

You trailed off again, instead showing your forearm to Izzy.

“Ah, an anti-tracking rune. Very helpful actually.”

Pulling on the last thread, you grimaced causing Izzy to raise her brow.

“Fine. Just do it.” You relented.

She stood up with a gleam, taking out her stele and marked your arm with the healing rune. You felt your skin burning for a few seconds and when she removed the stele, you saw a pattern on your arm. You looked up at Izzy, her face a few inches from yours, and she smiled at you.

“Look at your arm, y/n.”

You did as you were told and saw that there were no longer stitches on your arm; the wound having been completely healed. Well, that was the point of the rune, you supposed.

“Woah.”

You met Izzy’s eyes and when she grinned, you couldn’t help but smile with her.

“Y/N Fray-Winterthorn, welcome to the Shadow World.”

The Silent Brothers ->

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters x reader #isabelle lightwood #izzy lightwood #isabelle lightwood x reader #izzy lightwood x reader #clary fray #clary fairchild #clary fairchild x reader #clary fray x reader #alec lightwood #alec lightwood x reader #jace herondale #jace herondale x reader #clary x jace #simon lewis #simon lewis x reader #malec #clizzy #clace #the mortal cup #the shadowhunter chronicles #c: isabelle lightwood #c: clary fairchild #c: shadowhunters #s: mine #c: shadow world

[anxiouslyfred]

Writing Therapy

Summary: Remus got into poetry after searching his soulmates name online. He got into a writing therapy group by accident but the therapist leading it quickly got him registered as part of it. Virgil at least got properly referred to the group

Authors note: I have no clue what group therapy is like, and especially not writing therapy since I’ve never heard of it. This is how I hope it might be done only

/\/\

Remus didn't give a lot of thoughts to soulmates or the name on his wrist. There were far more interesting things to do, like mixing dangerous chemicals and testing out gas masks from yesteryear when he knew how to recreate them.

One thing he did give however was poetry. The day he'd received the name, he'd looked it up online, more out of curiosity for name origins than anything else and learnt about the Roman poet, Virgil. So he learnt poetry in between learning all the slow to kill injuries humanity could inflict or accidentally receive.

His favourite poetry group though was the group therapy with words sessions he'd stumbled into one week and decided to stick around in. Remus had basically heard someone describing dying with wonderfully rhyming and descriptive words and decided they  couldn't make him leave. Surprisingly they hadn't even tried to, as soon as he mentioned wanting to travel by sitting on the windscreen of a car he'd basically had the leader signing him up and calling his doctors to inform them of the treatment. When Roman had signed them up for a Doctor's surgery was beyond his memory but it was useful that time at least.

/Virgil gets referred again\

Honestly, Virgil cared less about the name on his wrist and more about the millionth type of therapy Dr Picani was suggesting might help him work past his fears over what could happen each day. That didn't stop his dismissal of looking for Remus from also being a concern in their talk therapy sessions occasionally, but at least Virgil had heard all the comparisons to separated soulmates that cartoons had to offer now. He'd even enjoyed some of the shows.

He'd enjoyed art therapy, and had a breakdown during a therapy that involved acting, specifically play acting a few of the scenes that he was scared of happening in order to find ways he could deal with them. Writing just seemed like it would follow one of those, either get him writing things far too personal and deep for him to ever share, especially in a group therapy session, or just be painting without the chance to use purples and blacks currently.

The real reluctance was surrounding meeting a group of new people all over again and Virgil dreaded it enough he waited, stayed outside of the hall the meeting was in. He knew being deliberately late to his first session was probably a bad idea, but facing the awkward introductions, people trying to make small talk or whatever before it began was worse.

Eventually though he did have to go in, after watching someone in a leather jacket and sunglasses stand for a while talking before someone in a green monstrosity of an outfit leapt into the circle, notebook in hand. There really were no other words to describe the outfit. It was too torn to shreds to be called clothes, while it definitely looked like a one piece, the ruffles and belt could easily disguise it being two. The fabric covering their legs seemed to at one be fully joined like a skirt but also separate to individual legs in their leap.

While they took the attention Virgil had the best chance of sneaking into the circle unnoticed, listening to the reciting that was happening absently while finding an empty seat.

And so I fall, encaptured, enraptured,

Consumed by the darkness,

Tangled in the forces arms,

And suffocated by its weight.

All the time the person had been reading their work they'd been moving, lurching out or pulling their limbs close based on the lines, but once finished they stood straight, bouncing in place as he grinned around at the group. “I'm Remus and this week I've been completely entranced by the black holes and would kind of love to fall into one and quiet my brain for a bit.”

“Sure thing, Gurl, but you're meant to give me a chance to invite people to share anything they've written before leaping up. Sit down already and please, do you have an outfit that isn't going to leave frayed strings all over the floor?” The leather jacket guy must have been the group's leader then, as once Remus was seated again he looked around at everyone, thankfully with his glasses pushed up to his hair now.

“Remyyyy, you know I live for the drama, and it's better for people to know we can write and discuss dark stuff without you jumping down our throats.” Remus whined, but shimmied in their seat, completely negating any complaint to their words. Virgil really wished he could at least figure out the gender of this person, beyond them sharing the name of his soulmate at least.

Remy shook the coffee cup in his hand at them, “Behave for a bit, while I finish off the introduction. Okay, everyone, I'm seeing some new faces here, Babes, so a few things beyond ignoring our drama duke. He turned up one day and just from the issues he spontaneously spoke about we let him stay.” Leaning forward in his seat seemed to be Remy's way to get their attention at least.

“Now we are a writing therapy group, and yes, if you want to copy Remus, well you can have a go, but really we are here to give you methods to help yourself. Some of that will be expressing your feelings in writing, be it poetry, stories or just journaling your day, but the larger part of our sessions is getting you to follow a few steps to reduce your worries. Nothing has to be shared, and honestly if you don't think a method is for you, that's fine. Don't write it down, just write what you like.” Remy nodded, pulling some loose paper and pens out from his bag. “Does anyone else what to share something they've written, or I can lead us through re-framing our thoughts?”

Virgil kind of absently followed the activity, just picking out one thing he'd felt worried about that week. A large part of him wanted to actually reread the name on his wrist again, check that it actually did say Remus despite having long since memorised it.

His thoughts remained, scribbling words down on the page as people started asking questions, or sharing a few things they'd written instead of the exercise. Most of the people who did that specifically mentioned having been around when Remy had shown them the method before, so Virgil guessed there were a few key methods the group focused on to help with negative thoughts.

Currently however he was writing down everything that could go horribly wrong if he mentioned his soulmate being called Remus to the guy in green. Meeting his soulmate was the only positive he could find, but actually speaking that possibility would only give him hopes to be crushed as soon as the laughter came, or worse some dismissing announcement that Remus already knew his soulmate.

Virgil was so caught up in writing the thoughts down he didn't register when Remy tried bringing the group to a close and most of the circle started packing their things away.

The chair next to him deliberately being scrapped closer with a horrible screech did get him to flinch and look up though, finding the very man he was trying to remember likely wasn't his soulmate sat uncomfortably close. “Hi, you crept in while I was reading. I'm Remus and your eyeshadow is cool. Is it eyeshadow or liquid eyeliner? That would be cool for all the designs you could draw.”

“Virgil, and just eyeshadow. Why would I want more attention on – Hey!” He cut off the question when his right arm was grabbed as soon as Remus heard his name. “Don't just grab me dude! I don't know you!” He was yelling, but wasn't doing anything to pull his arm back as the sleeve was pulled up. Virgil just needed an one of the strangers from the group to have an eye on them if this was something bad.

“But you are my soulmate, whether we've just met or not. Besides, being seen out with me, you're guaranteed not to get the attention and can play around with your make-up however you like.” Remus beamed, waving Virgil's arm in the air, while twisting his head to try and read what Virgil had been writing.

Shuffling his notebook closed and into his bag with one arm was awkward but better than letting Remus read all his fears and doubts about the chances of this happening. “Not arguing with either of those things, but you definitely aren't just reading my stuff until I know you more. Let's have coffee or something instead.” He hissed out.

“Can't have caffeine. I go even more loopy and tried to break into the bank for giggles last time some barrista messed up my order.” Remus perked up proudly at his recounting, finally releasing Virgil's arm.

Virgil just flapped his hands for a moment. “Fine then, hot chocolate, park cafe, tomorrow 3pm. Now I'm going to go and try not to panic about you getting arrested over doing something stupid.” He decided, jumping up and hurriedly getting his coat back on.

“I'll be there on the dot, and if there isn't a dot for me to stand on, don't worry I'll bring paints and paper to make one!” Remus called after him, cackling in glee which made Virgil doubt he could have made as terrible an impression as he believed.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #group therapy #remus sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #Emile Picani

[strange-lace]

Did you think I was joking when I said my Monkie Kid, Nagi, becomes a pseudo therapist for the team? FOOLISH, SHAPESHIFTING MEANS FREE THERAPY! But I have no idea what this is, I just started writing for some hurt/comfort (I think) post episode 9 and wanted to post it without editing because why not? Plus I just wanted to do some more with Nagi since it’s been a hot minute since I talked about her.

Enjoy and hopefully you get some chuckle worthy mental images like it did for me!

It was an odd sensation to Nagi, shapeshifting that is.

The closest way she could describe it is like that of her body becoming clay, free to be morphed into anything that she desired as long as she had a clear image in her head and enough practice. Hair length, color, height, weight, vocal cords, all were free for her to change and allow herself to fit into any setting like a chameleon. Or more accurately, like a snake camouflaged into its surroundings, waiting for the perfect moment to strike at its prey.

The sensation of always feeling like she was hiding among others was one Nagi had felt since birth.

It had only gotten worse with the sacrifices forced on her that made her shapeshifting even stronger.

Some days, she felt like her ability to become anyone was more trouble than it was worth.

But this was certainly not one of those days.

“Are you sure about this kiddo? Remember, the moment it becomes too much for you, all you gotta do is say something and I’ll shift into something else. This is meant to help you above all else, got it?” Nagi lectured for what felt like the third time, wanting to hammer in the point to MK before they began. When the little guy had entered her cave at the crack of dawn asking for a favor, this was certainly not what she was expecting.

Then again, Nagi was still a sluggish mess when MK had shaken her from her slumber in a frantic desperation.

“Uhhh, what’s goin’ on kid? What time is it?” She slurred, noting the faint rays of blue, pink, and orange barely providing a break from the darkness in her cave. The last traces of sleep snapped away from her eyes once she took notice of MK who, to put it bluntly, was an absolute mess.

Dark rings circled his eyes, hair a tousled mess without his signature headband, and clothes rumpled as if he had slept in them. Though Nagi genuinely questioned if he had even slept throughout the night. Wait, were those bruises?

“Nagi can you… can you shift into someone you’ve never met before?” MK asked, completely ignoring her questions. He seemed almost tense as he stood at the edge of Nagi’s nest, a giant cluster of pillows that she had collected over the years.

“That depends bud. If you give me a detailed enough picture, then sure. No guarantee I’ll have the voice right, but it can be done. Why do you ask? You need my help with something?” She pulled herself out of her nest, letting out a groan as her stiff bones cracked yet kept her eyes on MK. He seemed almost relieved at this answer, heavy shoulders relaxing the slightest bit before pulling out one of his many sketchbooks from his jacket. Pages were flipped through with frantic speed before he found what he was looking for, practically shoving the book in Nagi’s face.

At first she had thought it was a drawing of Sun Wukong until she took notice of the dark fur and, more importantly, the almost sadistic smirk on his face. He was surrounded by shadows that seemed to sprout from the ground at his feet, all with matching grins and empty purple eyes. Overall, it was certainly an ominous picture of an individual that Nagi hoped to never have the misfortune of meeting.

But evidently, MK did.

“Would that work?” Okay, now MK was starting to make her worried.

“Uhhh… sure, yeah. And not that this isn’t a wonderful art, but you mind telling me who this guy is? A friend of Sun Wukong’s perhaps?” Nagi asked and internally winced when he seemed to flinch at the question. MK was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself whether to tell her, before simply giving a sigh.

“That’s Macaque. I… I’ll tell you more later, I promise. I just need you to do this important favor for me.” She was starting to not like where this was going. But the demon could never say no to the kid, the heavens help her.

“Alright, you already know I’m willing to kill for you so out with it bud.”

“I need you to shift into Macaque and just… I don’t know, whatever with me. I just want to not be afraid of his face anymore,” MK mumbled, his knuckles white at how tight he was holding on to his sketchbook. All sorts of alarm bells were going off in Nagi’s head at this and a part of her wanted to push for more information now, so she can find this Macaque and skin him alive. But that wasn’t going to help MK right now, so she pushed that heat in her chest down.

“Alright, that I think I can do bud. Let me go get my rollerblades and KO!”

And that led to where they were now, at the outskirts of the city with Nagi wanting nothing more to ensure that MK was comfortable.

“I know, I know Nagi! Just… do it before I chicken out, please?”

“Alright, alright, as long as you’re sure.” With that, Nagi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She focused on the image MK had given her and felt her very being soften like clay to be molded. Her hair morphed into thick, black fur which spread over her body, clothes shifted to match the armored garments in the drawing, and she gained a familiar tail and large ears. It felt none too different to when she shifts into the Monkey King himself if she were to be honest.

Yet the look of uneasiness and fear Nagi was met with when she opened her eyes made her want nothing more to shift into anybody else.

“You still with me MK?” She asked tentatively, remaining perfectly still despite her wanting to scoop him up in a hug. MK gave another flinch, this time at hearing Nagi’s squeaky, hissy voice coming out of what looked like Macaque yet at the same time he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bizarre contrast. It quickly became a full on laugh as Nagi gave him an expression of exaggerated offense, the demon quickly catching on to the best idea on how to make this face less terrifying.

“I’m- I’m sorry, but hearing your voice come out of Macaque’s mouth is too funny!” He stuttered and the ache in her heart started to lighten up, just relieved to see the young man not as tense.

“I’ll have you know I have the voice of a goddess, young man!” Nagi said with an over-the-top huff, hands on her hips and a pout on her face. That only caused another bout of uncontrollable giggles from MK and she couldn’t help the smile on her face before taking the opportunity to put on her rollerblades. She was completely aware of how ridiculous she looked since said rollerblades were bright pink and decorated with numerous stickers courtesy of Mei.

Oh, Nagi was going to have so much fun ruining this Macaque’s reputation, whoever he was.

“Now, do me a favor and push me. I’m gonna skate down this entire hill backwards!”

“Isn’t that, I don’t know, kind of dangerous?”

“Oh it is, which is why I’m doing it and not you.”

Despite the look of skepticism on his face, that was enough for MK as he gave her a hearty shove. Nagi didn’t bother to hold back the scream of both terror and joy as gravity pulled her down the hill, frantic giggles punctuating the air. MK merely watched the spectacle with amusement as Nagi continued on into the city streets. She practically flew past confused pedestrians at the speed she was going, a number of those did double takes to be sure of what they saw.

The sound of a crash caused him to wince and quickly use the staff to pole vault over to where the demon had come to an unfortunate stop.

“You okay?!” Despite being covered in trash and hit a dumpster hard enough to make a dent in the metal, Nagi looked giddy as a child.

“I’m all good bud, thankfully I didn’t break my spine so it was totally worth it!” She said, prying herself out of her dumpster crater and happily brushed herself off. Seeing such a toothy but genuine smile combined with Macaque’s face was strange to MK, but he managed to not flinch as Nagi rose to her full height so it was a start. “Want to hit the arcade next? Or are you too afraid of your big sister beating you at all your favorite games?”

That certainly perked him up.

“Oh you’re so on!”

“That’s the spirit! Race you!” And like that, Nagi was off again though at a much more controlled speed and MK wasn’t too far behind.

“Hey that’s not fair, you’re on rollerblades!”

Up above the streets on his nimbus, Sun Wukong watched the two with an unidentifiable expression.

“No way, you absolutely cheated!” MK repeated for the third time, being carried on piggyback by Nagi as the demon skated down to Pigsy’s Noodles. It was now dusk and the both of them were still riding the high of spending a whole day goofing off for therapeutic purposes. 

“I don’t know, that sounds like sore loser talk to me. But… did you have a good time bud? How are you feeling?” Nagi asked, tone turning completely serious. MK was quiet a moment, tightening his grip around her shoulders the slightest bit before speaking.

“Yeah, yeah I had a great time. I feel… weird. Because a part of me knows that I spent the day with you, not… him. But at the same time, I’m gonna remember you crashing into a dumpster if I ever see his face again and possibly die from laughing.”

“Then it sounds like my work here is done, ruining reputations is my forte after all!” She came to stop in front of the noodle shop, ears downturned in disappointment. Yet the demon still put MK down, knowing that Pigsy would have her head if she kept the kid out after dark when he had work the next day. “But I’m glad I could help you out kiddo. You get some good rest, alright? I’ll be around to bother you and Pigsy tomorrow.”

And Nagi thought that would be that, until she found herself pulled into a tight hug by MK.

“Thank you.”

She returned the hug without hesitation.

“Don’t mention it.”

Nagi stayed put until she was sure MK made it inside his apartment safely before turning around to return to her cave. After such a busy day, she was ready to curl up in her nest and finish that book Tang had loaned her weeks ago. Maybe brew some tea while she was at it.

Or that was the plan, until she caught the scent of peaches and mischief on her serpentine tongue as she stopped at the entrance of her cave.

“Oh no, not him,” Nagi groaned, secretly hoping that was just the remnants of MK’s scent. Unfortunately that was not the case as she walked inside to find the Monkey King lounging about her home like he owned the place and eating her apples. Resisting the urge to lose it for that alone, the demon took a deep breath and forced a smile that was all teeth.

“Sun Wukong, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She said as if it were anything but a pleasure to be around him. Despite the venom in her tone, the Monkey King continued to lazily chomp on an apple as he finally faced her. Her displeasure quickly evaporated once she noticed how tense he seemed despite the forced nonchalance.

“Hey Nag, took you forever to get here! Saw you hanging out with the kid today.” And despite his attempt to sound serious, Nagi could only blame hanging out with Mei and MK for what she said next.

“R-Rebecca it’s not what you think!” 

“I won’t hesitate bitch!” Seems the Monkey King has been around the kids too long too.

They were both silent for a moment in an attempt to process what happened before the tension broke as they both giggled.

“I don’t know what to tell you man. He just woke me up this morning, asked me if I could shift into this guy called Macaque, and we just did dumb, fun stuff all day. Went out of my way to make the kid laugh until I was sure he’d lose a lung. But he never did tell me why he was so afraid of this face…” Tea. She really needed tea right now. So tea she began to make, not even realizing she had grabbed two cups and was making peach tea until it was too late.

“Oh he didn’t, huh?” Nagi gave him a silent nod, tail twitching in agitation as silence took over again.

“What did this guy do to the kid Wukong? What happened?”

“It’s a long story but let me say you don’t need to hunt him down because we beat him up plenty, it was mainly the kid though.” His pride in MK was infectious as she found herself smiling at that, handing Sun Wukong a mug of warm peach tea as she sat down next to him.

“Good, saves me the effort of doing it myself. I won’t push if either of you don’t want to tell me. But… listen, I’m not just here to help the kid and the others. You annoy the hell out of me but I’m here for you too Wukong. That’s what family does, right?”

The Monkey King was silent at that yet leaned in when Nagi wrapped her tail around his shoulders to gently pull him closer.

“Thanks Nag.”

“You’re welcome.”

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #sun wukong #monkie kid oc #nagi #fanfiction #my writing