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ceruleanchillin · 3 years ago

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When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

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It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities��, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause��..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #Coco Cruz #Coco Cruz x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #reader insert

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

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Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking

Part Summary: Sam hosts a party and Y/N makes a not-so-great acquaintance of a certain rock star.

Masterlist

Sam’s house is filled with people. I know the majority of the partiers, the rest I can recognize from whatever field of entertainment they’re in. The music is blasting over the speakers and the voices fill the remaining space.

I search around for him. I manage to find him in the family room on the couch. He’s chatting with a group of people, including Penelope. I make my way over, shuffling between bodies. When I appear out from within the crowd, Sam gleams.

“You made it!”

“I did!” I giggle.

We hug and he introduces me to the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Cara.”

As if I don't know who Cara Delevigne is, I may be busy but I don't live on Mars. I smile at her kindly. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I’m a huge fan of your work on TSL!” She gushes, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Seasons of Life is often shortened to TSL, just a side note.

Cara’s accent is so pretty! She’s already a model then she has to have a British accent as if she wasn’t perfect enough!

“Aw, thank you so much!”

Sam slips by me. “I’m going to go get us a drink!”

"Oh wait, Sam!"

“I know what to do!” He shouts back without stopping. I should know better. With how much time we spend together, he would know my order.

“That kid,” I sigh to Penelope and Cara.

The two giggle and we go on to talk about this and that. Fun enough, Cara leaves for Paris tomorrow for a fashion show. Must be exciting to travel so often and to wear the most amazing clothes. She’s quite funny. Her personality is so vibrant and warm. I can see us being good friends.

A loud voice echoes through the house and the three of us look toward the archway to see who it’s coming from. Bodies block the view so I turn my attention back to the girls. Penelope and I discuss the photoshoot in two days and Cara talks about her experiences with Vanity Fair.

“Hey, Cara!” A voice greets behind me.

I don't turn around, but I can feel their energy hovering over me. They shuffle to stand right beside me. I glance up, but can't recognize them.

Cara stands up to hug them. “Good to see you! How are you?” She keeps him in an embrace.

“Great, great!” The guy, who’s back is to me for some reason seems familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“You know Sam?” She questions as they part.

“Not really, I came with a few friends.”

I look over at Penelope for a hint as to who it could be. She shrugs and watches the two interact.

“Speaking of, have you seen him? I should say hi.” The man asks.

“He went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and Y/N.”

The man turns around and he peers down at me on the couch. I should’ve guessed it… MGK. The hair and a million tattoos should've been a dead giveaway. That bright blonde mess of a hairstyle.

“Colson, this is Y/N Voss,” Cara introduces us.

He glances down at me with a smile. “We’ve met actually,” he claims.

My head tilts, I can’t recall when we've met properly.

“Today after I performed on James’s show,” he describes, towering over me.

“Oh! Awesome!” Cara sits back down next to me.

All I can do is stare at Colson in confusion. “If you count glancing at one another from across the room once as meeting,” I reply a bit snarky.

He gives me a toothy grin and eases down onto the cushion ottoman right across from me. “It was more than one glance,” he argues.

“You would know, you’re the one that never looked away," I fire back.

Cara and Penelope exchange a glance, snicker, then leave the scene together. They offer their goodbye before giggling away. They're smart.

Colson seems to have not noticed or at least doesn’t care. He moves to take Cara's spot on the cushion next to me. “You would’ve had to been looking to have noticed that I never looked away.”

My head rolls back, with a mocking laugh. “Well aren’t you a genius!”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “I like to think so.”

“One vodka tonic.” Sam interrupts, holding out my drink.

I take it bitterly. "Thanks."

“Sam huh?” Colson stands up and the two shake hands. “I’m Colson, nice to officially meet you, man!”

Sam treats him like an old friend which annoys the heck out of me. Colson so far has only shown his arrogance to me. “You too! Great seeing you today at the show. Your performance was amazing.”

“Thanks, your interview was hilarious!” Colson fakes charming better than some actors.

“You watched?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I stuck around just off-camera. You two are great!”

Watching these two talk each other up is a bromance waiting to happen.

Sam gestures to me with his glass. “Y/N here is the real comedian. There’s never a dull moment with her."

“I'm sure.” Colson peers down at me with a bright smile. "We’ve only just met and she’s already sparked a debate with me.”

I narrow my eyes at Colson, what’s he trying to start?

Sam settles down on the ottoman where Colson was. “What about?” He is all for the conversation and is jumping headfirst into the tiff between us.

Colson smiles but I see the mischief in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a debate” I rise to my feet in front of the boys. “If you would excuse.” I step away from the couch a little irked.

“Oh come on now Baby, I’m only joking,” Colson calls not bothered.

“Oh no,” Sam laughs behind me. “Best not call her that or any pet names for that matter. She hates them!”

I don’t even acknowledge them on my walk out of the room. Cocky, annoying, ugh! It’s been maybe five minutes and he’s already managed to irritate me. Maybe all the things they write in the tabloids about him are true. A spoiled, arrogant, womanizing jerk. A piece of the worst parts of the industry. I'm going to go find the girls and stay far away from Colson Baker.

________________________________________

On the set of the Vanity Fair shoot, the atmosphere is lively and carefree. The theme is an 80’s vintage style and since it’s coming back the magazine is mixing old with the new. Sam and I are in an old-fashioned record store and it’s wicked! The walls are teal and remind me of an old Taco Bell. There are rows and rows of just vinyl records. My hair is teased in an 80’s rock band kind of hairstyle. 80s music has been playing on set all morning to set the mood. I'm living for it!

A lady approaches me with a huge light wash denim jacket.

“No way! I get to wear this!” I gush.

She helps me put it on and I’m dying from how awesome this shoot is.

I immediately go to Sam's trailer. “Sam! I’m rocking the denim on denim look!” I show off my high-waisted light wash denim shorts with a black bulky leather belt around my waist.

He laughs. “I appreciate the denim on denim but I have to say my favorite part is the old Bon Jovi T.”

The photographer, Adam, comes up with this brilliant idea for me to stand on the crates of records. Where the two rows in the middle of the store meet, there’s enough room for me to stand. Once I’m up there and I can find the balance in these red heels, they have Sam join me.

“Sam, grab her leg and look up at her as though you’re keeping an eye on her,” Adam instructs.

The camera flashes and between snaps, I change my facial features.

“Good! Good! Let’s get some shots from the counter!”

Sam helps me down from the crates and I hop down. We get a shot of me laying across the counter with a red sucker in my hand and Sam hovering over me. This shoot is incredibly fun and I can’t wait to see the finished product.

Sam and I change outfits and Adam asks if he can get a video for the website and YouTube channel. Of course, we said yes. It’ll be a montage of an interview of us individually and then of us just messing around throughout the store with 80’s music playing in the background. Adam has me sit on an 80’s style floral couch they set up in front of a backdrop in the back room. The whole setup is very comfortable and intimate. Only us, a few lights and a camera with the radio playing. Sam is in makeup and dress for the part of the video of us being candid.

“You can sit however you like!” Adam instructs, meaning I’m sitting too formal with my posture straight and legs crossed. “Act like we’re just hanging out or something.”

I adjust myself and crisscross my legs, slouching a bit.

“Much better!” he compliments, staring down at the camera. He hits up on a stool and positions his camera on the stand. “What’s it like to be on the cover of Vanity Fair?”

“The whole experience is unreal! I remember having a subscription to Teen Vogue growing up. My friends and I loved them!”

“Would you describe your style as modern or classic?”

“Classic for sure!” I gush.

Adam snickers. “What’s your favorite decade for fashion?”

I laugh and gesture down at my outfit. “The 80’s.”

“Does anyone from the 80’s inspire your style in particular?”

I tap the tips of my fingers together and hum. “That’s a toughy! I guess I would have to say Demi Moore for the hair. Specifically, her haircut from About Last Night… that’s where I got the style for my hair actually. Another big one would be Cindy Crawford, such a fashion icon!” I could talk about fashion all day and the icons idolize.

“Heels or sneakers?”

“Depends on the occasion. Sneakers for everyday things, I could never live without my trusty Converse. Yet, I would wear heels if I’m dressing it up a bit.”

"Are you more of a girly-girl or tomboy?”

“People who know me well would say I’m a girly-girl but I also don’t mind downplaying it from time to time. I’ve gotten better lately at relaxing and no being so “on” all the time.”

“Hair up or down?”

“Half up, half down,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully looking into the camera.

Adam chuckles behind the camera. He changes topics. “You’re from South Carolina originally...”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of home, but I hide behind a smile. “That I am.”

“You haven’t been back in almost a year, do you miss it?”

I play with the ends of my hair, examining my lap. Avoiding the camera lens. I look at anywhere but there. “If I were to miss anything about South Carolina, it would be the gorgeous landscape and southern food."

“You have three siblings, correct?” Adam asks next.

“I do, an older brother and sister, then a younger brother.” I list.

“What do they think about the show and your career?”

I nod. “They support me but the distance is hard. As you said, we haven’t all been together in almost a year.”

“Do you have any plans to go visit home soon?”

I sigh, “sadly no, my work keeps me quite busy.”

The interview goes on and we discuss how my style has evolved since I was a teen starting out in the business. I’ll admit, the topics about home and family sucked. Work and personal life are two separate jobs, my worlds can’t collide. I never bring South Carolina into it.

______________________________________________

After the shoot, I received a call from Cara when we were finishing up the photoshoot. Last night, Cara, Penelope, and I had a blast! I completely forgot about the whole tiff with Colson once I reached them in the kitchen. Since then, we’ve been three peas in a pod. While we were talking on the phone, she invited Sam and me to dinner at The Ivy.

“A small gathering of friends,” she told me and asked for us to be there by seven.

Jump ahead to now and Sam is parallel parking the car. I hop out and wait on the sidewalk for Sam to walk around. Our hands' interlock and the paparazzi take notice of us when people on the sidewalk pull out their phones.

“Y/N! SAM! SAM! OVER HERE!”

“HOW’S FILMING GOING?”

“It’s good to be back on set!” I cover my eyes with my clutch.

“YOUR INTERVIEW WITH JAMES CORDEN WAS GREAT!”

“SOCIAL BLEW UP AFTER THE INTERVIEW!”

Sam asks for the guys to make a path so we can get through without issues. He releases my hand and presses his palm to my lower back protectively.

“WE’VE ALREADY SEEN Cara AND PENELOPE GO IN!”

“A FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY!”

“ARE YOU ALL MEETING UP?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” I look into one of the video cameras and wink.

The guy behind it gets a hoot out of my expression.

Sam and I reach the restaurant and the men let us go in unbothered.

“WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE TO YOUR DINNER!”

“Thanks guys, see you later!” I wave to them and their cameras shoot rapidly.

The noise dies down when we go back further into the restaurant. Sam spots Cara in the back and guides me back there. Tables are lined up in a long row and the majority of the seats are filled.

Cara, cool as a cucumber pulls me into a hug. “Hey Y/N! So glad you two could come!” She sits Sam and me across from each other near the middle. She insisted that I sit by her so we could chat. We get to talking about the Vanity Fair shoot today then she’s pulled away when another guest arrives.

The waitress comes up behind me and requests my drink order.

“I’ll have a sweet tea please.”

“We only serve unsweetened.”

I hate it when they say that. “That’s fine, thank you!” Sam eyes me and I pout about having no sweet tea.

“You realize there’s sugar right here.” He slides me the packets of sugar.

“Yes but it’s not the same. There’s sweet tea at every restaurant where I’m from and I come here boom! Sweet tea is nonexistent!”

"What’s the drink that’s carbonated?” He’s asking to be annoying because the west coast and the midwest disagree on the name.

“Pop!” I glare at him.

“That’s right! Pop! Sounds like you’re saying pot every time.” He laughs at his own joke, finding himself humorous.

“It’s soda by the way," he corrects.

“Uh uh,” I refuse to change my ways, “it’s pop.”

The empty chair next to me slides back and when I glance up to see who’s doing it, an instant headache hits my brain.

Sam greets Colson warmly with a handshake. I shoot Sam another glare. He’s acting neutral but that shouldn’t be a choice in this case. He was my friend first!

Colson removes black Ray-Bans from his face and positions them on top of his head.

“Hello Y/N.” Colson sends me one of his charming grins so many teen girls swoon over.

“Hi,” I reply, not attempting to hide my disinterest. I curve my body away from him and towards Cara, legitly giving him the cold shoulder.

The dinner goes on without a hitch surprisingly, considering the circumstances. Penelope leans down over the back of my chair to say our goodbyes.

I turn around in my chair to face her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya,” she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

She and I exchange kisses on the cheek. “Love you!” We say in unison as we part.

“Later Sam!” She wiggles her fingers at him in a wave.

Sam and I stick around a while longer since Cara and I have gotten into a deep conversation about our shared love for vintage things. A conversation about our collections of records alone went on for twenty minutes. I hadn't noticed that it was just four of us now. Sam and Colson have been talking most of the dinner.

A pair of hands rest on my shoulders and steal my attention away from Cara. “Y/N, you ready to go?” Sam asks.

“We’ll head out too!” Cara announces with her sights directed behind me.

I look over my shoulder and Colson is standing beside Sam. The four of us walking out together… how convenient.

I grab my clutch, sticking close to Sam to dodge Colson.

The four of us walk toward the front of the restaurant and right when we reach the steps leading outside, Cara announces that she forgot her purse.

“I’ll be right back!” She urges us to go on without her.

The cameras waited for us as I assumed they would. They’re capturing every minute of us waiting for Cara.

I place my hand on Sam’s shoulder, “would you go help her?”

“You sure?” His eyes flicker between me and Colson.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him and he promises he’ll only be a second.

“Go to the car so you aren’t bothered,” he refers to the paparazzi.

“I’ll walk her,” Colson offers.

Sam gives him the go-ahead as he goes off to help in the search for the purse.

I’m left with the one guy I was avoiding. I grip the keys in my hand and walk down the brick steps to the sidewalk. I hear Colson behind me and stop to address him. “I can walk myself to the car.”

He raises his arms mocking a surrender. “I don’t doubt your ability to walk, just helping out.”

“I don’t need your help,” I scoff, starting to walk again.

“I never said you did,” Colson sassily replies.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

A man runs around me to get a photo of me straight on.

“Y/N! Y/N! WALKING IN WITH SAM AND LEAVING WITH MGK, ANY EXPLANATION?”

I pause for a moment, making eye contact with the man behind the camera. Is he honestly trying to start drama? What lies are he going to sell? I’m only going to the car because Sam requested. The only reason Colson is even near me is that he’s so freaking persistent.

I push back the aggravation and force my lips into a kind smile. I can’t have a single moment of weakness. I can’t give in to my emotions like others. “Sam is helping Cara with something inside. Colson was kind enough to walk me to the car.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS KNOWN EACH OTHER?”

I purposefully answer quickly so Colson doesn’t even have the chance to think of a response. “Not long, we met the other day backstage at The Late Late Show. We have a lot of the same friends and had no idea!” I peek over at Colson and he gives me a knowing look. I dismiss it and go on with my charade. I will not let this jerk mess with my career.

“ANY CHANCE OF HAVING COLSON GUEST STAR ON THE SHOW?”

“That would be great!” I lie my butt off, “having more friends on set would be fun!”

“COLSON, HOW’S YOUR NEW ALBUM COMING ALONG?!”

“We’re in the recording stage right now. Should be released sometime this summer," he answers.

“FOLLOWING UP WITH A TOUR?”

“Of course!” he chuckles.

I unlock the car and move around the guys to reach the door.

“WE’LL LET YOU GUYS GO ON. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT!” One of them departs.

“Thank you! You too!” I wave goodbye.

Some stick behind to get a few last pictures but for the most part, they all disburse. The ones remaining, however, keep their distance.

I yank on the handle of the door and Colson holds it for me. As if he's a gentleman. I begin to climb in, prepared to yank it shut in his face.

“Friends huh?” Colson chuckles.

I turn around abruptly and check around the general area of the sidewalk for any cameras. Seems the remainder of the guys have left. I shut the door and Colson removes his hand in a rush.

“No, not friends! I only said that to please the public," I huff.

“Ouch!” he acts offended, placing his hand on his heart. “I did find it interesting that you claimed we met backstage the other day so I was right!” He chuckles, believing he caught me.

“No, no, no, no!" I shut that thought down quickly. "The only reason I made that up was that it’s not good for my image if I admit I was at a party. People tend to assume that heavy drinking and drugs occur at parties. I can’t be associate with that scene!”

“Oh, so it’s alright to lie?” He crosses his arms and snickers, glancing down the street toward the restaurant.

I roll my eyes, of course, he doesn’t understand, why would he? “You don’t get it” I scoff, dismissing him. I turn and reach for the car handle again.

“So what if you were at a party? People drink, if some have a problem with that, that’s their problem. Oh! I forgot! You're America's Sweetheart! The perfect angel princess with a spotless record,” he mocks.

I slam the car door shut, having hit my limit. I keep my voice hush. “It’s not that simple! I'm not like you! I can't be caught partying! If the country, the world, sees the truth then my image is ruined! I've been doing this since I was a teenager! I worked way too hard for far too long to lose everything over a stupid mistake!”

Colson’s face falters from his usual carefree expression to one of seriousness.

“Found it! Let’s go!” Sam announces loudly to the whole block.

I toss him the keys and glance back to Colson who stands there in a stillness I have yet to see from me. His stare makes me want to hide. I feel as though I’m under a microscope being studied.

“Toodaloo Y/N! ‘Till next time my pals!” Cara strolls down the sidewalk.

It’s evident she’s had a couple of drinks. She sways further down the sidewalk and comes to a stop once she notices Colson isn’t following.

“Later Cara!” Sam shouts over the top of the car behind me.

Colson and I stare at each other I’m guessing for different reasons. He appears lost in thought and I’m desperately trying to figure out why. If I look away, I fear he’ll break to pieces or something.

Cara pauses. “Colson? You coming?”

He holds out for a moment but finally breaks eye contact with me. "Yeah."

When I’m no longer staring into those black works of art I regain my ability to move. I hurry into the car and Sam says his goodbyes again over the top of the car. I buckle my seatbelt when he climbs in. Watching strangers walk up and down the sidewalk, I’m perfectly aware of Sam starring me down.

He pulls onto the street. “Are we gonna talk about it or are we doing silence?”

I reach over and turn up the radio.

“Of course you make your own option.” Sam watches me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

We come in at the end of a song and the next one is oh too recognizable. The classic rock sound that is a part of all of Colson’s music plays through the car speakers. His vocals enter the soundwave and I groan loudly over the music before turning off the radio.

"No music then!" I snap.

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa5 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxr @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresix @thysagclub

#mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk imagine #mgk #mgk x reader #mgk aesthetic #machine gun kelly #imagine #fanfiction

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 4 years ago

Text

Simply Meant To Be (pt 1)

An expansion on this soulmate blurb (no Virgil in this one though)

[part 2]

Rating: teen

Word Count: 2130

Pairings: Roceit, Intrulogical

Warnings: minor swearing

~~~START~~~

Roman is a romantic, that’s just a fact. He loves love. Any day he gets to watch two soulmates meet each other is automatically a good day. The second best day of his life was getting to watch Remus meet their soulmate when they were sixteen. The best day of his life is reserved for when he meets his own soulmate.

It hasn’t happened yet, but it will. One day.

For now, Roman is content with being colorblind (well not content, but he’s learned to not let it bother him too much). Remus and Logan are actually a huge help with that. Logan has even gone as far as to make a list of all of Roman’s clothing and includes a chart of what pieces do and do not go together based on Remus’ (admittedly professional) opinions, and Remus actually went through and labeled all of Roman’s makeup with what color it is and what kind of look it should go with.

Anyone who vaguely knew the twins might think that Remus would use this opportunity to mess with Roman, but Remus knows how much Roman hates being colorblind; they would never lie to Roman about colors — about other things? Sure, but not colors.

Remus and Logan met when Logan moved to their school from Georgia. One day Remus had claimed that there was a trail of color — they would later learn that it was navy blue, Logan’s soon-to-be favorite color — leading from the parking lot, to the main office, to the east wing. They’d chosen to skip first period in order to follow it, having never seen the trail before, and Roman, being unwilling to miss the opportunity to watch his brother meet their soulmate, followed him. Remus had walked right into a physics classroom, and straight for a boy with short curls and thick glasses that Roman had never seen before and declared him their soulmate.

Roman got detention for skipping first period, Remus got a pass on account of meeting their soulmate.

Most people met their soulmates before they turned twenty-five, after all, how difficult can it be when all you have to do is find the trail of color they leave behind them everywhere they go and follow it?

Well, as Roman has learned in his thirty-five years of being alive, it can be pretty freaking difficult.

As children, Roman and Remus had wandered their town far and wide looking for colorful trails, and even after they met Logan, Remus continued to go with Roman as he searched, even if they couldn’t see Roman’s soulmate’s trail themself. As soon as Roman graduated from high school, he took the customary gap year that most everybody who hadn’t met their soulmates yet takes to search for their soulmates.

He never caught a glimpse of anything.

“What if I missed them somehow? What if I saw their trail and just didn’t realize it?” Roman whines one day at his usual Saturday brunch — because they’re adults goddammit — with Remus and Logan.

“You wouldn’t have missed them, Ro bro,” Remus assures him as they do every time Roman starts lamenting about having not met his soulmate yet. “Colors are so unmistakable that there’s no way you’ll miss them.”

“And even if you are genetically colorblind — which is unlikely considering Remus is not,” Logan continues before Roman has a chance to respond. “I have read multiple papers that state that soultrails will still make themselves distinct. There are multiple accounts of the trails emitting light, absorbing light, or even emitting sound. All of that is, of course, on top of the translucent cloud that follows your soulmate’s every move. I find it improbable that you, of all people, would not have noticed a soultrail.”

“Yeah, I know you guys are right,” Roman sighs. “I just want to meet them! I’ve travelled all over the place looking for them, where are they?”

Remus says nothing, which Roman is grateful for because Remus has a habit of saying dark jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Roman really doesn’t need to hear them suggest that his soulmate died in a car crash or something right now. Besides, the question is rhetorical. If Remus could see Roman’s soulmate’s trail, then he’s sure they would have spent the last nineteen years looking for them too.

“Sorry, I guess I brought the mood down,” Roman apologizes. “How are you guys?”

Remus opens their mouth.

“The PG version, please!” Roman rushes to say before Remus can mentally scar him. Again.

Remus closes their mouth again.

Logan rolls his eyes fondly and proceeds to get Roman up to date on all the high school gossip.

“- and of course the middle school’s robotics instructor left suddenly to follow her soulmate to England, so I have taken over as their advisor until a suitable replacement can be hired.”

“How is that?” Roman asks, cringing at the thought of having to deal with middle schoolers. Kids in general kind of freak him out, but middle schoolers especially.

“It has been fine, they are not as adept as my high school students, but of course for many of them this is their introduction to such things, so I’m trying to be patient and supportive.”

Roman snorts at that. He’s sure Logan is a good teacher, but his brother-in-law can be a bit short tempered, and has a habit of talking down to people who don’t understand what he’s trying to tell them.

“Don’t laugh at him!” Remus jumps in to defend their soulmate. “Logan’s great with kids, it’s adults he has a problem with.”

“They are much too old to be as ignorant as they are,” Logan defends himself resolutely.

“Of course they are, Sugar Butt.” Logan cringes slightly at the pet name, which is really all Remus is ever looking for with their pet names.

“Anyway,” Logan says, somewhat forcefully. “There is one student who seems to know what he is doing, but he doubts himself at every turn. I have tried telling him that he is doing everything correctly, but he is… reluctant to trust himself.”

“Maybe as the year goes on he’ll gain confidence,” Remus suggests. Logan hums in acknowledgment, and Roman takes that as the end of talking about Logan’s students. “Oh! Ro bro! Did you hear the theater got a new makeup artist?”

“Finally!” Roman groans, thinking back on their last makeup artist. “I swear Lisa was trying to poke my eyes out every time she did my eyeliner!”

“Oh she probably was,” Remus comments offhandedly. “I told her — back when she first started with the theater — that you thought that makeup artisting was a waste of time.”

“WHAT!?” Roman screeches, gaining the attention of the staff and other patrons.

“Roman,” Logan warns, growing uncomfortable under the curious stares.

“How could you do that to me?” Roman hisses at a much quieter volume. “I never said that! She hated me for five years because of you!”

Remus shrugs, slurping the end of their drink through their straw loudly.

“You better not make the new artist hate me!”

“I would never!” Remus gasps, clutching their heart dramatically.

Roman glares.

“Cross my heart!” Remus insists with a much too innocent expression.

“I hate you.”

Remus just gasps again before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.

~~~

There isn’t rehearsal on Sunday, so Roman doesn’t have to go in to work. Unfortunately, he is saddled by the knowledge that Remus — as the theater’s costume designer — does have to go in today, and therefore has a whole day to lie to the new makeup artist about him.

Come Monday, all Roman can do is hope that Remus hasn’t done irreparable damage.

“Calm down,” Remus orders when they come to pick Roman up. “They weren’t even in yesterday; I haven’t met them yet.”

“I’m not letting you ruin my relationship with the makeup artist again,” Roman pouts.

“Just try and stop me!” Remus cackles.

Once they reach the theater, Roman practically jumps from the car before Remus has even parked.

“REAL MATURE!” Remus yells after him as he sprints for the theater door.

“THIS ONE IS GOING TO LIKE ME!” Roman yells back.

“NOT IF I MEET THEM FIRST!”

Roman skids to a stop as soon as he reaches the lobby. Not expecting their twin to just be standing there, Remus slams into his back, throwing them both to the ground.

“The fuck, Ro Bro?” Remus demands as they flop off their brother and onto their back.

“I-I see it,” Roman whispers, voice filled with wonder.

“See what?” Remus demands. “The lobby? You’ve seen the lobby bef-oh!”

The awestruck look on Roman’s face finally clicks, and Remus bounces excitedly.

“You see it? Like it it?” Remus scrambles to their feet, dragging Roman up with them. “Where? Which way does it go?”

“It looks like how the sun feels,” Roman says instead of answering. “All light and warm and good.”

“Roman Kingsley you tell me which way your soulmate went this instant!” Remus demands loudly. This is important dammit!

“It goes from there,” Roman points to the side door that’s usually used by staff that take the bus to work. “To there,” the door leading backstage.

“Excellent!” Remus cheers dragging Roman forward. “Time for your date with destiny!”

Remus throws the backstage door open dramatically, but Roman groans as he realizes that his soulmate’s trail is going in literally every direction, making it impossible to know which way they went last.

“Well?” Remus asks expectantly.

“Either my soulmate is familiarizing themself to the theater, or they knew I’d be here and are trying to spite me,” Roman answers somewhat dejectedly. “I can’t tell which trail is freshest.”

“Well shit.” Remus scans each entry as though Roman’s soulmate will just happen to wander in (plausible, considering they’ve trailed all over the theater).

“Hey guys!” A voice calls from by the dressing rooms. The brothers turn to find Thomas, the owner of the theater and their boss.

“Thomas!” Remus cries gleefully. “My absolute favoritest person in the world behind my incredibly sexy soulmate!”

“Okay, so you want something,” Thomas answers with an amused grin. Remus always piles on the compliments when they want something.

“Who’s new today?” Roman asks, more to the point.

“Like, in the theater?” Thomas asks. “Just Janus, the new makeup artist. Why?” Thomas’s eyes widen as if he’s just had a realization. “You’re not going to prank him or something, are you? He’s very talented, I can’t have you scaring him away already!”

“Roman’s soulmate is the new makeup artist? Lame,” Remus pouts. “How am I supposed to trick him into hating Roman?”

“Soulmate?”

“My soulmate is in the building, Thomas!” Roman declares, striking a dashing pose before deflating a little. “Except his trail leads all over the place, I don’t know where he went!”

“Oh… well,” Thomas looks to each direction Janus could have gone, but he clearly doesn’t know which way Janus would have gone. “He said he wanted to get a lay of the land before everyone got here…”

“I got this!” Remus pipes up suddenly before cupping their hands around their mouth like a megaphone and screaming at the top of their lungs. “JANUS!”

“What?” A faint, far-off voice calls back, followed but the sound of hurried footsteps. “Thomas?”

“Dressing rooms!” Thomas calls back.

Footsteps thunder down the stairs, and all too soon a man appears on them.

The first time you lay eyes on your soulmate, you begin to see the world in color. Everyone’s experience is different: Remus said that as soon as he laid eyes on Logan, the world exploded violently into vibrant shades. Logan said that colors appeared one at time, quickly, but slow enough for him to notice. Roman’s mom said that her soulmate’s trail swelled to fill the space before things slowly began to take on their proper color, and his mama said that it was almost like everything had always had color, she just hadn’t bothered to notice before.

For Roman, the man before him is painted in vibrant shades while the background remains in grayscale, but as soon as the man makes eye contact, his colors begin to slowly bleed throughout the space.

The man’s eyes widen as he stares, slack-jawed at Roman — no doubt mirroring Roman’s own expression.

“I’m Roman,” Roman says quickly, before Remus can forever ruin his first meeting with his soulmate by making a dick joke or something.

The man smiles and Roman immediately decides that his favorite color is whatever this guy’s eyes are — they’re hazel, but Roman will later change his favorite color to red after realizing how stunning and bold the color is when it isn’t just another shade of gray.

“Janus.”

~~~TO BE CONTINUED~~~

General Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly

@pixelated-pineapple

#ts sanders sides #sanders sides #roceit #intrulogical #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #Janus Sanders #character thomas #My writing #thursday writes #fanfiction #fanfic #creativitwins #princeit #soulmate au #simply meant to be au

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klanceficatalogue · 4 years ago

Text

Klance Fic Starter Pack

So back in June of 2018 I made a Klance Fic Starter Pack post but since it’s been a long while since then I decided it’s finally time for an update. So here we have it! - Karri

so why don’t we fall by aknightley (1/1 | 8,218 | Explicit)

Five times Lance used a pet name for Keith, and one time Keith used one for Lance.

Keith has no basis for having a relationship with someone, so he's trying to follow Lance's lead.

//nsfw

The Marks We Make by wittyy_name (12/12 | 255,302 | Mature)

Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

//nsfw

(shallura, hunk/shay)

Nightmares by Trashness (1/1 | 14,864 | Teen And Up)

Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this.

Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.

call me, beep me (10/10 | 85,591 | General)

(00:31) Do you think she gave me the wrong number on purpose? (00:31) Or was it a genuine mistake? (00:32) Like maybe she writes funny and I misread it? (00:32) Some of the numbers do look a little dodgy... (00:33) Cause, you know, her threes could very easily be poorly formed eights? And maybe she writes her sevens like her ones? (00:45) What (00:46) The (00:46) Fuck??? (00:47) Oh good, you are awake!

where lance messages the wrong number and things kind of snowball from there

(shallura)

Shut Up and Dance With Me by wittyy_name (15/15 | 249,827 | Mature)

Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.

Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.

With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.

//nsfw

(shallura)

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by klancekorner (13/13 | 135,555 | Mature)

Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else.

//anxiety //insecurities //nsfw

i bet you look good on the dancefloor by xShieru (7/7 | 43,295 | Teen And Up)

"So like in 'Step Up'?" Allura shrugs. "Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it's just like in 'Step Up'." The smile that she sends Shiro's way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn't believe in dance camps.

Lance McClain's dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Keith just wants to find out what Lance's deal is.

(shallura)

you never stood a chance by kagshina (1/1 | 12,221 | Teen And Up)

lance to hunk ♡ >i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent >keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said >”BET YOU WANNA LICK THESE NIPS” >HUNK I WILL NEVE BE ABLE TO FCE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO DI E

(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there's lots of shirtless selfies)

nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts (1/1 | 50,369 | Teen And Up)

Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

Sweet Quiznak by CheckeredCloth (4/4 | 6,819 | Teen And Up)

"You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him.

"Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife."

Or: Lance is badly injured and has a few skeletons in his closet. Or maybe just the one.

//blood //injury

What a Healing Pod Can’t Repair by Remember_Me (12/12 | 55,777 | Teen And Up)

The compromised wormhole was ripping apart at the seams, sending everyone spiraling away in completely different directions. Lance could feel himself being pulled and bent in ways he was definitely not supposed to be. -- Stitching the team back together after everyone is separated is difficult, and for one Paladin rescue wouldn't be coming for a very long time.

//violence //blood

Bonding Time by magisterpavus (1/1 | 16,416 | Explicit)

“Shiro, I fucked up,” Keith blurted, wringing his hands.

Shiro paused mid-punch, shooting him a quizzical look. “What? What happened?”

“I think,” Keith whispered, “I think I accidentally roofied Lance. With my dick.”

//nsfw

Homesick at Space Camp by K0bot (15/15 | 74,280 | Teen And Up)

Lance realizes he's been an asshole to Keith, and on a diplomatic mission to a key planet for the Voltron alliance he... overcompensates.

//blood //injuries //panic attacks

we’ll make it, you and me by ghostcribs (1/1 | 6,421 | Teen And Up)

"Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

//injury

time out of mind by aknightley (2/2 | 27,849 | Teen And Up)

Keith and Lance wake up married. In the future.

He lays there a moment, processing the faint throbbing in his head, a strange bitter taste like lemons in his mouth. When he opens his eyes, the room spins wildly into a kaleidoscope of colors, so he closes them again, breathing in and out until he feels less like he might throw up. He suddenly registers a warm weight over his waist, and lifts his head to see a brown arm thrown over him. It looks startlingly familiar, but different, bigger than he remembers, more toned.

Keith turns all the way around and comes face to face with Lance sleepily blinking his own eyes open.

A Fish And A Bird by Methoxyethane (1/1 | 13,141 | Teen And Up)

Lance has a boyfriend. Lance does not realize he has a boyfriend. Keith, understandably, does not react well.

On Thin Ice by anonimina (11/11 | 205,795 | Mature)

This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.

Or: the not-so-simple story of two people trying to navigate the complexities of living in an ever changing world and face the traumas they've buried far away from the sunlight.

//anxiety

(shallura, hunk/shay)

bench press me by eggboi (1/1 | 1,683 | Teen And Up)

“The hell are you doing?” Keith grumbles out, body mid-push up. There’s a snicker behind him, too close to his ears, though Keith can’t really understand what would be so amusing about this. Then again, he’s not really sure why Lance is lying on him while he’s doing push ups either. Other than to be, of course, annoying.

“Nothing.” Lance finally says. Keith hears the grin in his voice, which only proves to irritate him a little more. ‘Nothing’ his ass. “Continue with what you’re doing, Mr. ‘I’m-Too-Good-For-Socialization’.”

(Lance, as always, tries to annoy Keith by making his exercise harder. It doesn’t work. At all.)

My Youth Is Yours by MilkTeaMiku (10/10 | 29,980 | General)

An unforseen blast in the middle of a battle de-ages Lance into a child for a week.

Keith does not understand babies.

#klance #voltron #vld #klance fic #klance fics #voltron fic #voltron fics #vld fic #vld fics #klance starter pack #klance fic starter pack

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Obedient

Soft Yan! Erasermic x Chubby Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader gets a new home and is perfectly fine with it, but soon her desires get the best of her.

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Kidnapping, drug use, NSFW, smut, double penetration, yandere themes, light D/S dynamic, daddy kink like once, BDSM themes, Stockholm Syndrome, overall nastiness

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This one’s extremely self indulgent, focusing on a chubby or heavy reader and their insecurities being accepted. Also, I feel like these two would be unfairly amazing with aftercare. If you skip the warnings it ain’t my fault if you don’t like what you read. Thanks and enjoy!

“Happy birthday to me” you mumbled to yourself as you polished off your third glass of whiskey of the night.

It was late, probably close to 2 am, and you sat at your usual spot on the end of the bar. You rapped your knuckles on the wooden countertop, signaling the bartender to pour you another glass. He obliged with a nod and a warm smile, which you easily returned. It was always like this, sitting alone at the edge of the bar on a Friday night, drinking away your stress where you knew you wouldn’t be bothered by your meddlesome coworkers.

The bar was getting quiet, with only a handful of patrons chatting and laughing away in their drunken states. And they were there again. Always sitting in the corner of the establishment, tucked away in a booth together. The two men were there when you started attending the bar on a regular basis a few months ago, and always stayed after you’d left. It seemed normal at first, just a couple of guys drinking at a bar. But you’d caught them looking at you on several occasions. You never looked at them directly, but you always saw their reflections in the glass bottles of liquor, their eyes trained on you with no clear expressions on their faces. They never came over to talk, never made a move, never even got within 5 feet of you. And that’s the way you liked it.

Until tonight.

Both men stood up, and you watched as their reflections casually made their way over to the bar. You averted your eyes and pretended not to notice, hoping they’d leave you alone. “Hey there” Well, so much for leaving me alone. You turned to see a handsomely rugged man looking down at you, his raven hair loose and framing his chiseled jaw and his dark eyes peering into your own. You notice a curved scar just under his right eye. His friend stood beside him, with long blonde hair tied up in a laxed ponytail and hypnotic green eyes trained on you behind orange tinted sunglasses.

“Hi fellas” you spoke, eyeing the two with a quirked eyebrow. The blonde moved over to your left and sat down next to you, the other choosing to stand on your right. “Hey little listener! Mind if I sit here?” the blonde asked with a megawatt grin, the sheer volume of his voice startled you a little. “Not at all” you said with a warm smile. ‘Listener? What a strange nickname’ you thought. There was a few seconds of silence before the dark haired man spoke. “So, what’s the occasion?” You wondered how he knew there was an occasion, and almost reading your mind he said, “You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar” Huh. Looks like they were watching me after all.

You took a swig of whiskey before speaking. “Nothing special. It’s just my birthday”. And you meant it. Your birthday was never anything special. Just a testament to another routine year on this earth. “I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” the blonde nudged your shoulder as he spoke. You laughed at that statement. “Nah, just another year gone by” The alcohol was starting to get to you, you could tell. You were never this talkative sober.

The black haired man knocked on the bar, “Next round’s on me. Hey barkeep, one more glass for this pretty kitten here” The pet name made your cheeks tingle a little, but you kept it under control and tilted your head. You scoffed “Kitten? Really?” He looked you up and down and said “Well how would you describe yourself, kitty?” He smirked at you, waiting for your response. The logical side of your brain warned you ‘Don’t do it, you can’t be self deprecating on your 25th birthday’. You didn’t listen. “Well I’m far from cat-like. Chubby, short, chunky. The only thing cat-like about me would have to be my trained posture and eyeliner” You chuckled, matter-of-factly. You worked as a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant and you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised.

“Hmm, pretty and humble” the blonde muttered. You laughed again “Pretty. Right”. Neither of them said anything. You looked at the two men, closely. Where did you recognize them? Why did they look so familiar? There was silence as you studied their faces. Then it struck you. Your eyes went wide and you took a sharp inhale “You’re Eraserhead” you looked over at him, and then turned to the blonde “And you’re Present Mic”. Both men grinned at the recognition, “In the flesh sunshine”. You turned and stared at your drink, feeling your face get warm. You were extremely socially awkward and hated confrontation, even if it were friendly, so you did the only thing that could save you and excused yourself to the ladies’ room.

Once the door closed behind you you let out a shaky breath and leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. What the hell were they doing talking to you? Or even looking at you? You backed up, deciding to fix yourself. You pulled your skirt down a little further over your thighs, tugged your thigh-high socks a little higher, and redid your ponytail.Taking a deep breath, you walked back out to the two heroes and sat down, a new glass of whiskey on the bartop in front of you. With slightly shaky hands you grabbed the glass and took a big swig, then glanced between the two men and said “It’s very nice to meet you” Eraserhead chuckled and Mic said “Likewise sweetheart. The name’s Hizashi” “And you can call me Shouta”.

The night went on and the three of you talked for another hour or so. Eventually you glanced at your watch and decided it’s time to go home. “Let us take you home (y/n)” Shouta offered. You declined politely, you couldn’t intrude on them any more than you already had. But they insisted, so you obliged, deciding that walking home in these 4-inch platform boot heels would kill you. Shouta hadn’t had a drink all night so he hopped in the driver’s seat, Hizashi in the passenger and you in the back. You punched your address into the GPS and the car started moving.

“Water?” Hizashi offered, holding a bottle of water over the back of his seat. You took it and thanked him, immediately chugging the whole bottle in one breath. You didn’t notice Shouta watching you, and you didn’t notice the bottle had already been opened and laced with something. Soon your head became heavy, along with your eyelids as you tried to blink away sleep. “You seem tired (y/n), why don’t you take a nap. We’ll wake you up when we get there” You nodded and sprawled across the backseat, settling into a deep sleep, unaware that you were never going to see your bed again.

You woke up sore and stiff, and you stretched out, feeling the soft silky sheets under your body. It took you a moment to realise these weren’t your sheets, and you snapped your eyes open and sat up to an unfamiliar room. “Shit” you cursed under your breath. You strained your memory to see if you’d gone home with anyone the night before, but the last thing you remember was being driven home by two pro heroes and passing out in the backseat of their car. Your head began to swim with possibilities and questions. Where am I? Why am I here? Where were the two heroes? You tried to cross your legs but your left ankle was stopped short. You threw the blanket off and saw a metal cuff and a thick chain holding you in place.

You felt yourself start to panic, but leveled your head and steadied your breathing before you lost control. You willed yourself to relax, and think of ways to get out of this predicament. Today is Saturday. Whoever took me would be here, assuming this room is part of a larger house. You stilled your nerves and gently called out. “H-hello? Is there anyone there?” A few seconds later you hear footsteps, and the door opened. The last thing you expected to see was a handsomely rugged pro hero Shouta Aizawa standing in the doorway. “Morning kitty” he said with a smirk.

You froze in place and blinked at the man. You lost yourself in your head, remembering all the yandere fanfic you read, remembering last night and piecing things together. The bottle of water was already open. To be fair, they are heroes. Letting your guard down was only natural. A hand on your shoulder jolted you back to reality. You stared at Shouta like a deer in headlights. “You okay there?” You blinked back at him, and swallowed down the lump in your throat before saying “Let me guess. This is my new home”. He stared back down at you before chuckling, “Well that’s not the reaction I was expecting. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you?”

He left the room and you got lost in thought again. You knew you shouldn’t be so calm, so willing, so obedient. But you also knew how boring your life had been, how mundane and lonely. You had cut ties with your family a long time ago, and you didn’t have any friends because of your trust issues and antisociality. You knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. To give up control.

And it shone through the more you explored in your late teen years. You found how much you loved the idea of having a dominant person to tell you you were doing good, someone you could trust to guide you. Someone to take over and lead you. The few relationships you had fell through once your partner learned about your preferences. They weren’t willing to put a collar on you, like you were some sort of animal. They never understood the trust and respect that came with the garment.

Maybe this was your chance to have the relationship you’d always yearned for. To be loved for exactly who you are. And you knew it was wrong to want to like your captors, the people who kidnapped you. But in reality what were you going to do? Try to escape and risk injuring yourself? Or worse, risk getting caught and be punished for it? There were no realistic scenarios where you got out of here and escape from them completely. If they were the yandere types you thought them to be, you knew it was pointless to struggle.

Shouta came back and broke you out of your thoughts with a tray of pancakes, fruit, and a glass of orange juice. You shifted so you were sitting against the headboard and he placed the tray on your lap. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ and began to eat, only now realizing how hungry you were. About halfway through the meal he spoke. “You know, you’re taking this really well.” You finished the food in your mouth and looked at him “Well there’s no use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out” you said, motioning to the chain and cuff around your ankle. “You’re not wrong,” he said back, and left you to finish breakfast.

He came back ten minutes later, took the tray, and returned with a key, handcuffs, and a blindfold. “I’m sure you need to use the bathroom” you nodded, acknowledging the pressure on your bladder “These are just a precaution” he said as he locked the cuffs around your wrists and tied the blindfold around your head. You felt the cuff on your ankle fall off and Shouta’s arms under your knees and back as he lifted you off the bed and carried you to where you assumed the bathroom was. Once inside, he put you down and took the blindfold and cuffs off. He stepped outside and locked the door and said “I’ll be waiting out here. Once you’re done knock on the door and I’ll take you back to the bed”. You nodded, and did just that. Back on the bed, he locked the cuff around your ankle and stood to leave before you stopped him.

“H-hey, S-shouta?” he turned around and quirked an eyebrow, “Can I…draw?” You had no idea if he’d let you have anything, but you had to try. If you were going to be stuck in here you needed a way to keep yourself occupied. He hummed and left the room, returning with a sketch pad, a pencil, and an eraser. Once he left you began sketching away, deciding koi fish were to be the subjects of your creativity.

Days went by, being served three meals a day by either Shouta or Hizashi. Eventually, they began to question why you were so obedient and calm about the whole situation. They began to think you were just trying to get them to let their guard down, and give you a chance to escape. You always answered their questions truthfully. “I don’t mind it here. My life had always been uneventful so the change is mildly appreciated. And you treat me well, so I can say I’m at least a little happy”. They weren’t anything like you expected. They weren’t overly protective or controlling, never posed any kind of threat. Never tried to convince you of anything, not that they had to.

After about a week, they took the cuff off your ankle and stored it away. “You can roam the house freely” Shouta said, holding his hand out to you. Gingerly you took his hand, slowly standing from the bed. Your legs shook a little, but Shouta held you so you could stretch them out and get comfortable walking again. He walked out, motioning for you to follow. You ended up in the dining room, sitting at the table. With Shouta sitting next to you, you assumed Hizashi was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

“So (y/n), what have you been drawing?”. The question caught you off guard, but you answered “Koi fish”. “Ah, any particular reason why?”. You thought to yourself for a moment, and answered “Well they’re gorgeous creatures, elegant, sleek, graceful. I’ve always loved drawing koi”. He hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer. You then started to ramble a bit about how koi reminded you of dragons for some reason, and how beautiful you thought dragons were.

Soon dinner was served and Hizashi was caught up in the conversation. After dinner you all went to watch movies in the living room, and you dozed off between the two men, relishing in the warmth their bodies radiated. Shouta carried you to the bed and laid you down to sleep, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. He stood there, admiring you for a few minutes before leaving to join Hizashi in their room.

———————-

After a couple months living with the two men, thoughts began to swirl around in your brain. Caring thoughts. And needy, dirty thoughts. You’d push them away as quickly as they came because you knew what was happening. You read about Stockholm syndrome many times, and you tried desperately to remind yourself that liking them was wrong. But you were in far too deep. Eventually the part of you that tried to fight it lost miserably and you stopped pushing those thoughts away, because despite the kidnapping, they were nothing but good to you.

The days they’d both have to leave for their hero duties were the days you’d begin to realize you missed them. You dug through their closet and began to wear one or the other’s t-shirts around the house. Eventually it became normal. You’d always wear their clothes, whether they were home or not, and they didn’t seem to mind. You got closer to them, getting more cuddly and affectionate, giving and receiving more kisses. Soon you were all sleeping together, and life began to feel strangely normal. But the realization of how sexually frustrated you were drove you mad.

You wanted to feel their hands on you, touching you, caressing you, making you feel good. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed them. But you had some pride, so you just left hints. You dressed lighter, showing more skin. Not wearing any shorts with their t-shirts, letting the collars drop and expose your shoulders. You could see them looking. Their glances made you ache, you wanted them so bad. But they weren’t budging. So you gave in and tossed your pride aside.

One day after they came home from patrol and dinner was finished, you quickly washed the dishes and tugged them over to the living room couch and sat down on the coffee table, facing them. Their confused expressions only grew more confused when your face burned red. What you were about to ask them embarrassed you to no end, but you had to do it or you’d go insane.

You took a deep breath, looked up at them, and began quietly. “S-so, um, I really like it here, and…and I appreciate everything you two have done for me…” you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, “a-and I know you’ve given me everything I asked-” you were abruptly cut off by Shouta saying “No, (y/n), you can’t go outside”. The statement threw you off, and you quickly rambled “N-no, no! That’s not…I wasn’t asking to leave! I love it here and I love just being with you two and doing whatever…but it’s not what we do…it’s what we…don’t do…that’s bothering me…just a little bit…”

Shouta’s stern expression turned soft, then after a few moments a knowing smirk tugged at his lips. Hizashi still looked as confused as before the conversation and said “Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. There’s a lot of things we don’t do”. Shouta spoke up “‘Zashi, hold on”. Hizashi quieted and shrugged. Shouta looked at you with narrow eyes and a knowing smirk. “Come here kitty” he said and pat his leg. The name sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, got up and straddled his lap. He tucked his finger under your chin and pulled so you were looking him in the eyes “I think our kitty cat’s getting a little needy, ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right kitty?”. Your face burned fiercely, and you bit your lip harder and gave a small nod.

Shouta dropped his hand and grabbed your waist, lifting you off his lap and onto Hizashi as he stood up to get something. You closed your eyes and let out a small squeak from the sudden movement. You opened your eyes to Hizashi’s wide grin. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaned forward and slotted his lips against yours, giving you a soft affectionate kiss. You melted into his arms, letting a haze drift into your mind. Shouta came back holding something, but you couldn’t quite see it in his hand. You looked back up at his face, and he looked at Hizashi. The two shared a look and you couldn’t quite place their expressions.

Shouta sat down, and began gently rubbing your arm. He seemed to be trying to figure out how to say something, but he decided actions were better than words. He took a small breath and held up what he’d been holding. And it made your breath hitch in your throat. You realized in that moment that they had been watching you a lot more than just at the bar. They knew about your relationship issues, your preferences, they knew everything.

It was a collar. And it was beautiful. One half was black leather, studded with yellow gems, the other half yellow with black gems, and the center had a silver loop with a little bell. You reached out and touched it, letting your fingers trace over the gems. You look up at Shouta and the question leaves your lips before you can think. “Is it for me?” he nods, and it made tears prick the corners of your eyes. He knew what you wanted. They both did. He gives a sweet smile and moves behind you, looping it around your neck. You hold your hair up, and wait for the sound.

Click

It locks, and you shudder, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Shouta tilts your head and kisses you, soft and deep. He loops a finger through the collar and gently tugs, and you let out a mewl, letting him dip his tongue past your lips. A haze drifts over your mind in a thick blanket, and you melt into the kiss. He pulls away, and you look up at him with lust-blown eyes, then look at Hizashi who leans over and kisses your cheek.

Hizashi picks you up and places you on the floor and the two stand up, Shouta loops a finger in your collar and tugs, and the two lead you over to the bedroom. Hizashi begins to undress first, and Shouta pulls you into another heated kiss. This time a little more rough, a little more passionate, his tongue gliding over yours. He bites your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan. Hizashi, now completely naked, sits on the edge of the bed and calls out to you “Come over here baby”. You pull away from Shouta and walk over to the blonde. He motions for you to turn around, and he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

He pulls off the shirt you’re wearing, groaning after seeing you had no bra on. He pulls you by your arms, pressing your back against his chest, and peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders. You mewl softly, shuddering from the sensation. You didn’t know kisses could feel so good. Shouta comes over and starts to massage your breasts, kneading them with his palms and grazing over the sensitive buds. Hizashi brings his hands to your stomach and gently caresses and grabs at the soft flesh, squishing and kneading the fat gathered there.

You whine from the contact, and feeling extremely self-conscious you grab his arms and try to pull him away. He shushes you and whispers in your ear “It’s okay, baby, let me feel you. You’re so beautiful”. He nips at your ear and kisses your neck. You let your arms relax and drop to your sides, letting the blonde explore your body the way he wants. Shouta kneels in front of you and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling. He grabs your thighs and pulls your legs apart, squeezing the fat there.

As the two squeeze and grope every part of you that you never liked, you can’t help but feel exposed and slightly uncomfortable. You whimper softly, tears beginning to sting your eyes as you take shaky breaths to still yourself. Hizashi turns your head and kisses away the tears as they fall, and Shouta leans up and kisses your belly and thighs. “Shhh kitty, let us love you. Let us love all of you, kitty cat. You’re so pretty…such a pretty little kitty~”.

You relax further, and you realize these two beautiful men are worshipping your body like you’re a goddess. You’re far from being comfortable in your skin, but the initial fear is gone, and your body relaxes as they continue their ministrations. “Good girl kitty. Good girl” Shouta whispers as he kisses and nips at your thighs. “Open your legs for us baby” Hizashi dips his fingers down and teases your dripping core, slipping up and down your folds as Shouta pulls your panties down and off your legs. You buck your hips up, begging for more friction. He dips two fingers into your core and a soft moan escapes your lips.

He reaches his thumb up to rub tight circles over your clit, and you mewl at the sensation, rocking your hips into his hand. Shouta continues focusing on your breasts and belly, kneading and kissing and licking. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, curling his fingers to hit your g-spot and rubbing your clit faster. The knot snaps and you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking, you throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high.

After your release you relax back down, breathing hard. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy. “You ready kitty?” He asks, and you look up at him through your lashes and nod. He tugs at your collar “Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?”. Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without thinking “Yes Daddy”. Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath. He thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out in one movement. You gasp, the stretch around his thick length was almost enough to make you cum a second time.

Shouta stills to let you adjust and leans down to kiss the bruises on your neck from Hizashi. “I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of your core. Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock deep into your pussy, walls clenching around him. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth. Your tongue slides over his fingers, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling out and Hizashi removing his hand from your mound and you whine at the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing. Shouta moves to sit and pulls you onto his lap, pressing your chests together, and Hizashi sits up behind you, pressing against your back. “On your knees baby girl, hold yourself up” Hizashi says into your neck.

You oblige, holding yourself up as the two men line themselves up with your dripping core. Once they’re ready, They grab your hips and pull you onto them, both of their hard cocks slipping into your pussy. You throw your head back against Hizashi’s shoulder, nearly screaming from the stretch. Your nails dig into Shouta’s back as they bottom out. They still their movements, all three of you panting hard. Despite the lack of movement, you mewl and whimper, your walls clenching and stretching to accommodate the both of them.

You relax slightly, feeling fuller than you’ve ever been before, and they immediately start to move. They pull out until just the tips are still in, and slam you down onto them, setting a brutal pace. You scream from the pleasure, clawing at the muscles in Shouta’s back. Hizashi reaches around to rub your clit and it shoves you over the edge and has you cumming around them, your essence dripping down your thighs and their cocks. They keep slamming back into you, your pussy clenching around them. They slow their pace ever so slightly, feeling their own release building. Hizashi keeps rubbing tight circles around your clit “Do you have one more for us baby? Cum one more time”.

You whine from the overstimulation, feeling every vein as they pump themselves in and out of your core. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach. Shouta leans down and bites down hard on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, just under the collar, and it pulls you over, crying out as your pussy clamps down hard. Their hips stutter, and they pick up the pace, chasing their own release as you ride out your high. They thrust two more times and they’re both shooting hot ropes of cum into you, filling you to the brim.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments, they pull out together, the movement making you moan and shake. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom. Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he takes off your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back down to earth.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, squeezing it appreciatively. They both muttered soft ‘good girl’s and ‘good kitty’s in you ears. You felt secure with them, the hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off. He takes you from Shouta and dries you off with a towel and loops your collar back around your neck. “Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us”. Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, and as you fall asleep you mumble a soft “I love you both” into Hizashi’s chest, and Shouta whispers into your ear “We love you too kitty cat.”

#yandere bnha #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic #stockholm syndrome #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #hizashi x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere yamada hizashi #erasermic

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artxyra · 4 years ago

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So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it.

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt. He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.” It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#daminette #maribat #ml x dc #damimari #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

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isagrimorie · 28 days ago

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I wonder if I'm reading Agatha All Along wrong and it's really a tragedy.

Tragically, Alice breaks away from her generational curse only for her to die in the next trial. Sharon dying was sad but Alice? Alice dying just as she's coming into her own, and totally by accident?

Agatha really doesn't seem to have any measure of control but taking other people's power mechanically feels good to her -- like a drug. She can only stop when she's stopped or shaken out of it by an outside force.

Like, how awful it is to feel good at something that fuels so much death but fuels her power too.

She might even be addicted to the taking of power even though she hates that part of herself so bad.

And she's spent centuries proving her mother right.

It's so complicated too because it's so obvious that Agatha loves magick, loves witchcraft. But this love comes at the biggest cost.

No wonder Rio thought Agatha was the one keeping herself in the hex, Detective Agnes' life might be crap but at least it's not Agatha's life with her penchant for killing people with or without meaning too. A century of blood up and down the coast.

As Detective Agnes she can be the brooding hero she seems to wish she was. But she's not-- Agatha is like a Mikaelson -- she is so many other people's monster.

She wished she was Nicky's knight and shining armor but she couldn't even do the simple thing of protecting her own son.

No wonder Agatha hid from Rio for so long too.

Also, her inability to control her power siphoning must be killing Agatha who is all about taking control and owning her own agency.

Agatha is right back where she started, hated and alone with her powers taking and giving. And being thought off as the worst and so she does what she does best to protect herself. She becomes the monster they think she is.

That is grief on Agatha's face and regret.

She looks at her hand in recrimination but that doesn't last long because it's also tempered by the feeling of finally having some measure of power back.

But at what cost?

Teen confronts her about it-- and she tries to explain but three centuries in, she's never found the words or a way to explain that she DOESN'T HAVE CONTROL.

But before Agatha can explain Jen cuts her off -- a lifetime and three of doubt and suspicion? That's not easily erased overnight. And again you can see Agatha rebuild her armor but it's the Teen who helps Agatha shut the door.

It's the Teen's hypocrisy that gets to Agatha-- she gets lying but being so self-righteous?

No, Agatha's not willing to ride that train.

And this is where Agatha fully rebuilds her wall. She's not going to take this game anymore, especially not from Wanda's son.

(Who Agatha does care for but also, fuck you.)

Teen hurt her and now she's lashing back and being cruel and taunting.

Don't taunt the spirits.

Agatha taunted the spirits. And then Billy lashed out in return.

Also, Teen hates it when people call him Familiar and Pet. This is when he really lashed out.

Because...

You should see him in a crown...

(Witches in MCU remind me so much of French Quarter Witches in The Originals-- born with blood in their hands).

#tv: agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #thinky thoughts #agatha harkness #teen (agatha)#agatha 1x05 #long post

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crystal-moon-101 · 4 years ago

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Y and U? For the unnamed ask?

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?: I familiar with shows like Troll Hunter & Miraculous Lady Bug through a friend of mine, and I have been meaning to get into them, just a little busy and have a lack of energy 😅. I am also familiar with Yugioh (At least the earlier series), mostly because of the abridge and because I’m really into Season 0 stuff, as it’s more my kind of thing.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites: Given you gave me three, I think it’s only natural for me to pick from The Secret Generator 10 trio, as I always up to talk about these three and what they mean to me. Of course, they’re hardly perfect character, but they all are special in their on way for me, and I thought I’d discuss why.

Rex: My favourite out of the three, with his show being my all-time favourite. Development, interesting background, mystery, angst, tragic, fun to watch, mostly consistent, amazing powers, and gets so much found family stuff going on, he hits a lot of marks of what I love to see in a character, and the same does do good enough of a job with him. Rex is a character that plays well with the concept of being a child soldier, having amnesia, and being the key to the larger story at hand, and the show still treats him like a real person, living and breathing, and not just a means to screw over every time they want to plot to work.

He has many layers to him, at the start seeming like a cocky, daredevil, rule-breaking and rebellious teen, who you sometimes question he understands the weight of what is happening to the world and himself, but then you learn that he does understand, so much more than he lets on. While he is naturally charismatic and a jokester, you can tell he often puts up this mask of joy and playfulness just to make a dark world around him feel a little lighter, along with hiding how alone and scared he actually feels. Because well, who wouldn’t be when placed in a role like that? He knows very well he has powers tied to saving the die, even if he doesn’t fully understand them. He knows the danger the nanites and EVOs pose, but also knows the danger that humankind can pose if they’re not willing to listen to reason. When things do get tough, he knows when to cut the crap and be serious. He’s someone who knows the world isn’t black and white, even if he hates to admit it at times.

While we didn’t get to see much of it, I’ve always seen Rex as a part of three worlds. He works closely with normal humans, like Six and Holiday (As normal as you can be at Providence), and he understands how scared the world is, how scared every day people are that any second they or someone they love could turn into a monster and go on a rampage. And sometimes that hurts for Rex is that he often tries to connect to this part of the world, because he knows he was once part of it, and he thinks it can make him happy, but the obstacle blocking him is that he isn’t human anymore, and that many people are scared of him, even if he saves them. And yet despite all the harsh things people have said or done to him, Rex always comes back to be the hero, because he knows he can help and that there are people that need his help, and it’s commendable that he’s willing to put aside those issues to save the day, even if he doesn’t get a thank you out of it.

His second ties are, of course, to his EVO world. It’s interesting that, at the very start of the show, Rex use to have this view that everything EVO was wrong, most likely something he picked up at Providence, despite being one himself. He’s hesitant around them, and while he’s not one to kill, he’s often quick to think they’ll be a danger. And while he can be right about that most of the time, he does start to learn it’s not all that it seems. His Hong Kong friends, Circe, Breach, even someone like Biowulf eventually. He even eventually learns that, while he’s not normal, he’s not a bad person for being something not human. And it’s an interesting thought that while he’s one of the most human-looking EVOs, he can be considered one of the most dangerous, even more so than EVOs that look like overgrown monsters. His ties to the EVO world are what make him start to see the world isn’t black and white.

And then his third ties, kind of, are to his nanites and history. Despite how human looking Rex is, and that he is an EVO, he’s very much something different to both sides, a middle ground thanks to his connection to the nanites. It’s always fascinated me that something about him, out of anyone in the world, he has this tie to nanites that no one else has. That can be explained by a number of things, but I also like to think it’s also because of the person he is. I mean, you get someone like Black Knight who got similar powers to him, but you never see her have a level connection with them like Rex does. And that can be explained by poor writing, but again I like to tie it back to who he is as a person, and how the nanites have evolved to be around him. And with how long he’s been tied to him, they just feel like a natural part of him, even if he may reject it sometimes. And to have him be once part of the past that involved how the nanites came to be, it adds a whole another layer to this boy. I will admit the writing can get to him at times, sadly, especially around season 3, and we don’t get certain answers to question about him, but he’s still a great character in my eyes, with so much potential for the stories and ideas you can play around him. I respect him for his hope for wanting to do things a better way, and yet knowing that sometimes you have to do the hard and logical things to do good, even if it’s not easy to do. I could ramble on more, but I got to move onto the next one. 💙

Zak: Ah, my sweet cryptid boy, have season 2 gave you crippling anxiety. Zak I would say, out of these three, is the most consistent with his writing. He’s still the same cryptid loving, cool kid, with a passion for his job back at the start of things, but he also grows in a believable way over time, especially when learning what he really is. The twist with making Kur adds such a spin on who he is and how he feels in a great way that I love, because he was someone who was building up to be the hero of the story by everyone around him, only to learn that the supposed villain he was meant to fight was himself. I think one of the interesting things that The Secret Saturdays does is that it never really answers the question if destiny is real, and if Zak is meant to kill all humans. It’s a question left up in the air, and while there seems to be facts that say otherwise, the idea that this boy could kill all humans makes people scared or eager, making everyone say that his destiny is real, even if there is no proof. And because of this, it makes Zak fear and believes that it’s real too, that he is bad just by simply being Kur’s reincarnation, even if he hasn’t done anything that makes him bad. And yet, as easy as it would have been for Zak to just accept this, he doesn’t, he still plays the hero and goes out of his way to help those that need it. Because whether or not destiny is real, Zak is willing to fight it, and that makes a noble character. And while we don’t get clear answers about destiny and Kur, many of us get to play with the idea of what it means for Zak and this world he’s in. I personally thing that Kur’s history is more complicated than him being ‘evil’ as I’ve written before, but Zak is his own character, his own person, and it’s fun to see who he is, how he reacts and how he grows. I also love that, while he’s pitched as one of those classic kid/teen boys during the 2000s action cartoon eras, he does things you wouldn’t expect. While he can get into fights and combat and have fun with it, if he knows the fight endangers someone or a cryptid, he will always take it seriously. Like when they found the cryptid fighting ring, he was always disgusted by it and keeps repeating the notion that he wanted to stop it as soon a possible, even hating to have to put Fisk into the fight just to stall and get info. He clearly as a loving passion with cryptids and the world he’s in, and is always out there looking to see more to the story than others may see. He’s not quick to label someone as a monster unless he’s 100% certain that’s what they are. And his family relationships are just golden, I love the Saturdays. It’s adorable how, instead of calling them pets, he treats Fisk, Zon and Komodo like his siblings. He respects them as equals, and while he can argue with them, he’s willing to listen and understand that they have their own needs and wants, and the four of them are always by each other’s sides. Drew and Doc, being one of my favourite couples of all time, have different relationships towards Zak, but both love and respect him very much. Even when they find out Zak is Kur, not once do they ever turn their back on their own child, and do everything they can to help him see he’s not a monster. Zak clearly looks up to them, and it’s great to see the growth they have by letting Zak spread his wings, and stop trying to be over-protective with him. And, of course, Uncle Doyle is great, in that he’s always respected Zak, even if he’s a child. He’s willing to be level with him, and push him when he knows Zak needs it, and the fact that Zak was the one in the family to be so quick to have him join is just so well done, as he never had a doubt that Doyle could be a better person. Zak love the world he’s in, and the beings and secrets that lay within it. Despite how it might push and hurt him, he’s often willing to get back up and show who he really is, that the labels that people put on him don’t define who he is. Despite how his world turned upside down with one sentence, he’s doesn’t give up.🧡

Ben: Oof, right...*Cracks knuckles* Time to get into the more iffy ones of the trio. Right away, I have no trouble saying that Ben has a lot of issues and flaws as a character. I have no issue denying that he can be an ass, and has done many dumb things. However, I’m not one to hate or fault characters when it’s the writing that screws them over. Because at his concept and core, the person he was meant to be, Ben is quite an interesting character. He’s not the standard hero with a cape, he’s very much flawed, can sometimes be a jerk and cocky often, and has been shown to be young and naive. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, in fact he adds an interesting element to the normal hero archetypes. When written well, he’s quite fun to follow and has quite the concept to play around with. Despite his outgoing and witty outside, Ben does go through a lot of crap ever since he got the watch. His teen years and parts of his childhood are mostly just dealing with the foes he’s made, and the troubles that comes with being the main hero of the galaxy, which is defiantly not an easy task to take. And yet he does it, he goes through all the dangers just to help people and the worlds around them. He’s often willing to stand back up and crack a smirk because he’s not one to give up. He sees hope, he sees potential and light beyond the darkness, and he wants to give others the chance to see that. And while his cocky nature can get in the way when written wrong, I do think it’s a trait that makes sense. People across the galaxy praise him since he was young, which can cloud his judgement, it’s a natural flaw that fits him as a character, and it has been shown he acts this way to hide how scared he really is. Cause I mean, with all that he has to fight, it is actually quite a struggle, so it is amazing to see just how much he takes and never backs down. He’s not a boring character to watch, he’s not a perfect hero that gleams in a golden light, he’s flawed and hows so many issues to tackle, but have a noble and bold side to him that you can respect. He’s been shown to bring people up, to teach and to guide, to take on the hassles of others just so they can get by in life. And while he does like the praise he gets out of it, you know deep down he does this because it’s good to just do good, even if it doesn’t benefit you always. He could have easily given up the watch and hand it back to Azmuth, but he never does. And his connection with alien and the watch have always been a personal interest with me, even if canon doesn’t delve much into it as they should. The thing with Ben is that he’s perfect for the watch, because he has no problem shaping into another being. And while it’s still Ben underneath, he does change parts of himself for the time being. And the reason he’s fine with this is because he sees life and potential with all the aliens he can be. He sees the different powers they hold and wants to show just what they can do to help, what the galaxy could build if they worked together. It’s funny that the omnitrix was build for peace purposes, and while Ben took it a different way than what Azmuth wanted, he found a way to make it work. I know other characters wouldn’t be able to handle the watch like this the way Ben does, even Albedo proves this by how he acts with his aliens, seeing them as nothing but tools while treating himself as the higher being, while Ben accepts what he turns into, and understands what makes certain aliens special. Sadly, Ben is a tragic character when it comes to the poor writing and constant switch in series, as Cartoon Network can’t seem to understand what to do with him. But that does make him a fun character to work off of and write, and I’ve seen some amazing things in the fandom with what they’ve done with him. So I've seen hated Ben, because I often see his as wasted potential for the character he could have been, and he does have great moments that are canon that I love. 💚

#I did not mean to make this long #Whoops!#But I hope some of you enjoy my essay about these characters I love #Got too much to say lol #my answers #Ben 10 #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 omniverse #ben tennyson #ben 10 ben tennyson #generator rex #generator rex rex salazar #rex salazar #GR #the secret saturdays #secret saturdays #zak saturday #the secret saturdays zak

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izayoichan · 3 years ago

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For the 100 OC Questions:

Flynn: 91-100

Fannar: 81-90

Chris: 31-40

Hayle: 51-60

Hayden: 61-70

Vy: 71-80

Lucas: 21-30

River: 41-50

Brooke: 1-10

Meadow: 1-20

A few questions for almost everyone XD

This will be LONG, so under a line.. because LONG!!

Flynn:

91. Do other characters respect your OC, if so, is it out of fear? Or do they respect your OC because they like them?

Some respect him, most do and it's mostly from him being who he is. A friendly guy that's generally nice to everyone. Flynn is simply a very likable fellow.

92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say?

The one person Flynn would go to see is his dad, and he'd probably tell him that he loves him and to not take blame for anything that has happened, and to care for the rest of his family. Then he would just hug him until his time was up. His dad is the most important person in the world for Flynn

93. How do they deal with stress?

He tends to go for a run, or talk to someone about what stresses him if he can. Most often this person is Brooke, or later Emil.

94. Do they have a more submissive or dominate personality type?

I think he is a bit of a mix, but like his mom, leaning on the submissive.

95. Do they have a pet?

Atm not really, he has Emil as a familiar, and the family has two pets in Lobo and Felix that he kinda considers his as well without either really being his.

96. Do they have a stash of weapons?

Nope, no stash!

97. Where do they live? Who do they live with?

They live in Brindleton bay with their entire family. It's a lot of people, but he likes that in a way. Even though sometimes some alone time is good too.

98. How do they calm themselves down?

Watching movies, working at the shelter, or just talking to their dad. His dad is his biggest source of calm.

99. Are they co-dependent?

In some ways yes, but also not. He is a very independent person, but he is also used to living very close to family and friends. So he would be a bit lost without them all I think. College should be interesting ;)

100. Are they a day, or night person?

Day person, definitely.

Fannar:

81. Do they have any tattoos? If so, are they significant?

Is it bad that I don't really remember? I don't think I gave them any, but I also have a bad memory.. so maybe, but they're not significant, just something they would have done for fun.

82. Are they good at mental math?

Very, they have that after their dad.

83. Do they get along with others?

Yep, he does, he also has a bit of a tendency to get fans along the way somehow. He doesn't exactly like that part as much though.

84. Are they lazy?

Generally no, but they also can be. They do like to not do anything but slack on occasion ;)

85. Are they self-motivated?

They tend to be more motivated by others, but when needed, they can motivate themselves, so I guess a bit of both?

86. How do they cope with anger?

He isn't a very angry type of person, but when he gets angry he copes fairly well with it. He has always been told being angry is okay, and a valid way to feel.

87. Have they ever been in a situation where they were helpless?

When they saw Emil attacking their mom, and then their twin stepping in and eventually making it his familiar. He felt awfully helpless then and it was not a feeling he liked.

88. Are they organized or messy?

Their fairly organized, better than most teens.

89. Can they remember a lot of information at once?

Yeah, they have a dragon's memory, and they are pretty good at remembering a lot of information at once.

90. What is their occupation?

Currently, they are to be College Student.

Yvreon/Vy:

71. Who do they dislike?

Mages.. hunters.. yeah.. that's their main dislikes.. Death to an extent.. Jael mostly for breaking the Heartlight.

72. What is their motto?

I think to help, and just be helpful in general. Or learn, as much as he can.

73. Do they have any markings on their body?

They have quite a lot of scars, from being attacked by hunters. They also have a heart-shaped scar on their chest, from sharing their heart with their husband Hayden.

74. Have they ever been abused?

Sadly, yes, both by the first humans they encountered, hunters who wanted their heart, and also to an extent the mages at RoM who wanted to experiment on him.

75. What is their biggest fear?

To lose Hayden.

76. What are their goals?

Healing people, helping people. He would love to get his Heartlight back if it was possible so that Hayden would be well, or better. Learning as much as he can, and of course, acquire many shiny things and books!

77. How do they go about achieving their goals?

He works at a hospital, where he helps as many as he can. And the money he earns often go-to books and shiny trinkets as he knows he is well cared for at home money-wise.

78. Do they have a fight or flight response?

Depend's on son the situation. If Hayden or his family is close, he will fight with all his might. If he is alone, it would be flight, to come home and protect those he loves.

79. Is there someone in their life that they care about more than themselves?

Their kids and Hayden.

80. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse?

Fairly well I think, they are a dragon after all ;)

Hayden:

61. Are they comfortable being in a crowded room?

Yeah, he doesn't really mind. He prefers quiet, but a crowded room doesn't bother him much.

62. How do they relax?

Lying in bed watching movies, preferably using Vy as a bed, as that is the best and most comfortable thing he knows. Oddly helping the kids with math is also relaxing to him.

63. Have they ever harmed anyone and regretted it? Verbally or physically?

The sharing of the Heartlight with Vy, hurts Vy when he feels bad. Or well it did when it was connected. He was never comfortable with that, and it always made him feel bad. Even if Vy told him it was fine.

64. Do they like to dance?

Yes!

65. How do they get around their environment? Examples - horses, bike, vehicle

They have been carried a lot.. other than that, he mostly gets flown by a dragon or uses a portal.

66. What is their pet peeve(s)?

People who mistreat animals, he hates it, and he will call you out on it.

67. Do they have a disability?

Yes, they were born with one. They were born with two magic types that fight each other. Ice and Fire, where the fire side is slightly stronger and was damaging him. He quickly gets tired, and after the loss of his twin, and the breaking of the Heartlight, he has once again gotten worse.

68. How do they react to getting flowers?

He would be surprised, but thankful. He likes flowers but prefers them alive in the ground.

69. Would they ever wear a flower crown?

Yes, especially if made by the kids or given by Vy.

70. Do they like themselves?

Somedays yes, most days.. not really. He tends, still, to feel he is everyone's burden.

Hayle:

51. Do they like science?

Yep, he finds it fascinating!

52. Are they more emotional or logical?

They used to be more logical.. now they're more emotional, and perhaps a mix of both. The mix makes him a very good dad and grandad.

53. How do they deal with their emotions?

Depends on the emotion. Most he talks with Chris about.. Anger on the other hand still gets handled by hitting things, hard. Preferably a boxing bag.

54. How do they cope with sadness?

Often with anger.. by hitting things because being sad makes him angry. But also with talking to his husband, or his family. Sometimes though, destroying an old house into dust is needed.

55. What is something they care about?

His family.

56. Would they die for anyone/anything?

As above.

57. What do they do when they are happy?

Smile a lot, dance with their husband, laugh, and cook!

58. How would they come across to other characters? Examples- messy, lazy, childish, caring, etc.

Caring, very much like a dad friend, that type of person that feels like a dad when you talk with them.

59. Do they have a phrase they use over and over?

Hmh... not really no.

60. In a crowded room are they in the corners, sides, or in the middle?

All of the above depends on the crowd and why they are there.

River:

41. How was their childhood?

Not the best, their dad only saw them as a mage and pushed for him to be the strongest, while his mom kinda tried to make him into his dad after his dad dies. He had an awful relationship with his mother by the time he was a teenager.

42. Are they close with anyone who is going to screw them over?

Nope.

43. How do they adapt to different situations? Do they adapt at all?

It depends a lot on the situation. As a Sage, he adapts to whatever is needed of him. As a Vet, he adapts to what is needed of him there. And for his son, he tries to adapt to being the parents the kid needs.

44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft-spoken, hot heated, vulgar, etc.

They have a fairly soft way of speaking, a caring one. But it can also be brunt, harsh and aggravating to many.

45. Are they opposed to violence?

On a general basis.. yes, for occasions, they're fine with it.

46. When is their birthday?

I don't think it has ever been mentioned, I think Mahv will have to say, if not, I guess it is time I give him a date for it!

47. Are they quick to judge?

In general, yes, but he is trying to be better after he misjudged Rylan so badly when they met.

48. Do they have anything they are trying to hide from others?

Mostly how bad they still feel after the death of their husband. How guilty they still feel and so on.

49. Do they act differently around different people?

Yes. He can be loving and caring to some, while asshole to someone else.

50. Do they enjoy the arts?

Yes, especially music.

Chris:

31. How do they overcome obstacles?

By thinking things true, finding the best way past it most of the time. On occasion, he pulls the reaper card though.

32. When faced with a difficult decision do they get stronger or break?

They get stronger. They have a breaking point, but it takes a lot for him to hit it. 15 years away from his family was close to his breaking point, and both Jael and Kieran knew it.

33. Do they have any special powers?

He is a reaper..he has quite a lot. For instance, he is one of very few reapers that can kill a god.

34. How do they change throughout the story?

Well, Chris was a bit of a loner.. so they changed to become someone's lover, a dad, a family man, and someone who often wishes he could be home a lot more than he can.

35. Do they have any friends? If so, are they close-knit?

He has one, Nat, with whom he is very close. Kieran is more the boss than his friend. There is also Mark, who's after him to finding love, they have slipped a bit apart, both having a life outside of work. His best friend is of course his husband.

36. How is their family life?

Busy, especially with his work being on top of it all. But he would not trade it for the world!

37. Are they likable?

Yes, it's a good trait to have when you ferry souls over to the next step.

38. Are they the hero, or anti-hero?

He wouldn't consider himself either, but to some, I guess he is the hero

39. Do they make questionable choices?

Not all too many most were perhaps made before he died 😎

40. How do they become who they are?

They did something questionable and stupid and died. Luckily for them, they also said yes to becoming a reaper and that's why this story even exists.

Lucas:

21. What are their hobbies?

Singing, which is also his job.. he is also a pretty decent kitty bed by now if that qualifies as a hobby.

22. What are their ticks?

Hmh... not sure he has any, probably just fiddling with his fingers when he is nervous if that counts?

23. Do they like children?

Yes, mostly, unless they cling to him and want a photo.. although that more teenage girls. 😂 But in general, yes he likes children, he grew up with quite a lot of them around.

24. How do they react to being around wild animals?

With fascination and awe.

25. If they were given the task to prank someone, who would it be, what would they do, and would the prank work?

It would likely be a bandmate, and it would probably be putting something they hate in their drink. As she isn't the type to prank someone, he would probably fail miserably.

26. Do they have any survival skills?

Yep, they can make fire with two twigs, and they can play music to make some busking money if needed.

27. Are they more book smart or street smart?

Street smart, he likes books, but he grew up in an orphanage, so he learned street smarts along the way.

28. How do they get out of a difficult situation?

Would depend on the situation, he can pay his way out of it, or he can try and run of course. He isn't a fighter so he would rather try and avoid stuff like that.

29. Do they use their body, mind, personality, or force to get what they want?

They don't really do that much.. but to work at the shelter, he used his personality and what he knew they would have to say yes to.

30. What music do they enjoy?

Absolutely everything! If it's music, he likes it. Although everything for its situation. Its not always that black metal fits what you're doing.

Meadow:

11. Do they have a romantic interest?

Yep, and you will soon see who that is.. soonish anyway.

12. How do they cope with struggles?

Fairly well really. They work their way through it, although often they can be a bit snarky when it happens. It's just their way of dealing with it.

13. Do they have anyone they can lean on?

Her half-brother River, his family, her dad, and her mom. Unlike River, she is quite close to her mom, and their relationship is much better.

14. How do they react to someone dying?

If it's someone she cares about, she would like most people be sad. If it's not, then it's more.. eh, shit happens!

15. Can you name 5 personality traits they have?

Friendly, Hardworking, Ambitious, Romantic, Proper

16. How did they become a character?

It was Mahv's idea to have River have a little sister, then she kinda became the kid's mom friend and person outside the family to talk to.

17. Do they get along with others?

Yes and no. She has a way of being that alienates some, but if you see through it, you find a sweet person who is easy to get along with really.

18. What flaws do they have?

They can be a bit hot-headed, snappy, and abrasive when put in a situation they don't expect. She also expects a lot of herself, like becoming the first sage potion maker!

19. How do they influence the story?

She becomes a bit of an icebreaker between River and his mom when they are re introduced. As well as becoming a very good friend to the current kids in the story, the one they go and talk to when things are meh, and parents aren't an option.

20. What do they look like?

Sneaky I know.

Brooke:

1. How do they present themselves to others?

Very straight forwards really, they are nicely dressed and well behaved in general.

2. Do they like animals?

Yes, they love them, specially horses. Sadly animals don't seem to love her back for unknown reason to her.

3. How do they dress?

Nice clean clothing? Nothing special, and never high fashion.

4. How many languages do they know?

Quite a few actually. She speaks Simlish (English), Japanese, Chinese, French, Italian, German and Spanish.

5. How big is their family?

Not big at all, its basically only her and her parents.

6. What is their purpose in the story?

Now that is a secret still. But it will be shown eventually, and she does have a purpose yep! Her purpose has even changed several time over already.

7. Do they know how to fight?

Yes in her own way. (Cryptic, I know, but you will see one day)

8. What is their back story?

There isn't that much. She has grown up with her parents, they have always been strict but quite fair. As long as she follows their rules and guidance, she is fairly free to do what she wants. Their not overly happy with Flynn as her boyfriend, and think she could have done better, but they have accepted it.

9. Why is their name, their name?

Because random name generator made it so!

10. Do they have any nick names?

Not really, Brooke is short enough on its own. Closest is Flynn calling her his Brooke I think.

AAaaand that is that.. thank you for asking, I hope you enjoy!

#100 you say #yes #happy birthday again #figured today was the right day #dandylion240 #my head is now tired #that was a lot of thinking #and pondering #and answering

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ichigo-daifuku · 4 years ago

Text

To Dye For

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Relationships: Dabi | Todoroki Toya & Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Family Genre: Gen, Angst, Canon Compliant, Random Encounters, Character Study Word Count: 1.6k | AO3 Link

Synopsis: Natsuo encounters a mysterious man in the hair care products aisle at the grocery store.

Warning: The following contains mild spoilers for the Endeavor Agency Arc and the Paranormal Liberation War Arc.

Natsuo stared at his reflection in the mirror and frowned.

As a college student, hustle and bustle filled his everyday life. He attended classes, studied diligently, moved from one deadline to another, and participated in extracurricular activities. It was a lot to get used to at first, but the newfound freedom he had was nothing short of amazing. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Natsuo had spare time, he would usually spend it going on dates with his girlfriend or visiting Rei at the hospital together with Fuyumi. As of late, however, he had little time to do either. School activities had caused his schedule to become more hectic. The upcoming final exams would signal the end of the academic year, and Natsuo had a lot of tasks to accomplish in preparation for them.

He had been so preoccupied with his responsibilities that before he knew it, the streaks at the sides of his hair had grown crimson.

Growing up, Natsuo detested the crimson strands on his head. He didn’t mind how they stood out against his predominantly white hair at first, but as his hatred for his father grew, the sentiment spread to the biological traits he inherited from him. He loathed how those crimson streaks were the same shade as his father’s. In time, Natsuo despised how their resemblance was uncanny. People had always pointed out how his face and frame looked like a younger version of Enji. It was one of his pet peeves.

Natsuo would never forget how, for a long while, he was prohibited from visiting his mother at the hospital because she couldn’t bear to see him. He reminded her too much of Enji, even though his father was as good as a stranger to him. Natsuo wasn’t like him at all, but even if that was the truth, his physical appearance alone was an undeniable indication that he was his son.

When he was in his early teens, he started bleaching and dyeing the six streaks of his hair white. He had a way to lessen his likeness to his father, and he took the opportunity to do so. Now, truth be told, Natsuo had come to the point where he was unused to seeing his crimson hair. It was an odd feeling, but he had learned to live with it.

In retrospect, he should’ve requested a touch-up last week when he went for a haircut at the barbershop, but he had been in a rush. He disliked freeloaders and didn’t want to be one, so he prioritized attending the group meeting he had instead. With a sigh, he shook his head but didn’t regret his choice. He considered dropping by the barbershop again but thought otherwise. He could do it by himself. It had been a while since he had done the bleaching process on his own, but it was simple enough. He could do it.

Natsuo slipped his navy blue coat on and went on his way to the grocery store near his dormitory. The winter chill felt soothing and nice against his skin. It eased his mind and relieved the stress he was under, and he felt glad he decided to go out today.

At the grocery store, he proceeded to the aisle of hair care products and grabbed his favorite brand of hair bleach kit. He hummed to the tune of the music playing through the speakers and looked around, wondering if the hair bleach kit would suffice since he had the other products he needed in the dormitory. Now that he thought about it, he could do some grocery shopping as well. He should get a shopping cart.

A fellow customer entered the area he was standing on. The lanky man wore a hooded jacket that covered the majority of his face. He had his hands inside his pockets as he browsed the shelves.

The man seemed to be someone around Natsuo’s age, more or less. Natsuo was taller than him but granted, he was taller and burlier than most of his peers. He wondered if he was also a college student like him and, if so, if he attended the same institution he did. Natsuo attempted to catch a glimpse of the man’s face but failed. The stranger wore sunglasses, obscuring his features even further, except for the ebony hair hanging across his forehead. Although uncertain, Natsuo considered the possibility of this stranger’s covered-up attire being connected to his Quirk.

With a gloved hand, the man picked up a box of black hair dye and read the description on the packaging.

Oh, no, Natsuo thought, Anything but that one.

“Hey, man,” Natsuo called, approaching the stranger in a friendly manner. “I wouldn’t recommend that brand. The quality isn’t very good.”

The man stiffened but, nevertheless, replied, “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I used that brand when I dyed my hair blond when I was younger, and it completely faded after a few washes.”

“Why?”

“Well, as I said, the quality is—”

“Not that,” the man interjected, not bothering to face Natsuo fully, “Why would you dye your hair blond?”

“Ah, well… to piss my old man off,” Natsuo admitted.

“Why?”

“He has this… rivalry with a certain blond man, so he hates him. I thought it would irritate him.”

Natsuo was oversharing, and he knew it. His hand came up to rub the nape of his neck as he chuckled in mild embarrassment. He had nothing to be embarrassed about when he was just answering the man’s question, right?

To his surprise, the man probed, curious about his story, “And? Did it do the trick?”

“Nah.” Natsuo shook his head. “He just glared at me for a bit and went back to pretending I don’t exist.”

The man let out a humorless chuckle. “Figures.”

Looking back, Natsuo realized how petty of a prank that was. Of course, the man would think so, too. “Yeah.”

There was a lull in the conversation. The man shifted his head to look at Natsuo.

Natsuo was unable to see the man’s face due to his sunglasses, but he could feel his eyes as they traveled from the hair bleach kit in his hand and then to his hair.

The stranger’s shoulders shook as he stifled a laugh. He turned away and placed the low-quality hair dye back on the shelf.

Natsuo scanned the items near him and pointed to a certain section. “If you’d like a really good hair dye, this is the brand I’d recommend.”

“There’s no need.” At a leisurely pace, the man turned around and made his way to the shelf across them, grabbing a medium-sized bottle.

Hair dye remover, Natsuo noted, which made no sense to him. Wasn’t he looking for hair dye?

The man inspected the item in his hand and put it inside his pocket.

Natsuo’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him. “Hey, what do you think you’re—”

Ignoring his question, the man stepped closer to Natsuo, and with amusement laced in his voice, spoke, “Make sure to watch the news, okay?”

Natsuo froze. Why did this person seem almost… familiar?

“See you around,” the man said and walked away, “Todoroki Natsuo.”

Alarm bells rang inside Natsuo’s head. This stranger called him by his full name. He had never introduced himself nor was he wearing anything that would give away his identity.

The second Natsuo was able to collect his thoughts and get over his initial panic, he ran after the man to question him, but he was nowhere to be found. The security alarms didn’t go off despite the man stealing something from the grocery store, his escape successful.

Natsuo reported the shoplifting incident to a staff member. Since the man’s physical appearance was too obscured, the authorities had very little clue to his identity. They recorded the theft but could do nothing much about it, ultimately deciding to watch out for similar incidents from now on. When they asked Natsuo if there was anything else he had to say, Natsuo contemplated it but chose not to inform the authorities of the fact that the man knew his identity and was, most likely, after him.

On his way back to the dormitory, Natsuo clutched the handle of the paper bag of hair products in his fist, wary of his surroundings. He couldn’t help it. Having been targeted and attacked by a villain in the past, he had to stay vigilant. Moreover, why did that person tell him to watch the news? The crime he committed was theft—a petty one at that—and would hardly be worth a headline.

Still, it worried Natsuo. He sent Fuyumi a message subtly informing her of his whereabouts in case something happens to him. Not wanting to cause her unnecessary panic, he decided to leave out the details of the encounter he had at the grocery store. He’d tell her later, but for now, he reminded her to take care of herself. Shoto was at U.A., at least, he would be fine there. Rei would be safe at the hospital while Endeavor could handle himself.

Natsuo boarded the train and sat down. He set his elbows on his knees and shut his eyes, the pads of the fingertips of his right hand gently touching their counterparts on his left as he leaned forward and bowed his head, lost in thought.

Who was that man?

The question plagued his mind for a long time but held no answer.

Notes: This was supposed to be a humorous fic… but here we are.

When I was writing this story, I thought a lot about that panel in Chapter 302 where Rei said she “started seeing hints of [Enji] in the children’s faces,” and while Shoto’s left side was shown, Natsuo’s entire face was beside him.

I hope you’re all enjoying Season 5 so far. Thank you for reading! ♡

BNHA Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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tae-cup · 4 years ago

Text

A Mile in My Shoes | KSJ Oneshot

Pairing: Platonic!Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You hate Kim Seokjin, that arrogant bastard, and he hates you just as much...right?

Genre: Body swap!au, enemies to friends, Fluff, angst, Solo artist!Seokjin, Solo Artist!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Rating: PG, content wise, teen for language

Word Count: 9k words

Network: @castlebangtan

A/N: Yay! 100 followers celebration finale!!! Thank you everyone! I’ve got some other stuff cooking as well so hopefully I’ll be more active!

Other: Masterlist

Kim Seokjin. You hate Kim Seokjin. Why? Well, it was sort of his fault.

The flashing lights of the award ceremony, the buzz of the crowd, the packed audience, did nothing to subtract your attention from the person on stage. With a bedazzled white t-shirt and violet purple hair, Kim Seokjin sang on stage. His charisma was no doubt exquisite and his singing technique was divine...but he was a total ass.

It suited him, being the number one pop star in the past year; and he was still growing. He was a prideful creature and had been sweeping the award shows, your awards being stolen from right out under you. You were sure that he was out for you ever since the misunderstanding a few years ago.

You weren’t actually sure why he still hated you. You had worked your ass off to try and fix what was wrong, but he had ignored you. So, technically, the feud that continued was childish and completely his fault.

Alright, maybe you fed into it a little, but you were still annoyed and quite honestly tired of it. Jin was a handsome man. His personality was anything but.

You rolled your eyes as Jin did a hip thrust, to the screams of his fans. The cameras were still focusing on you throughout the experience, your feud well known. He came right up to the edge of the stage and looked you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag? My bag’s filled with trophies. How you think bout that? How you think bout that? Haters are already giving up. My success is already so golden-”

You tuned him out, a small fire of rage boiling in the pit of your stomach. Why was he still holding onto this stupid feud? If anything was clear, Kim Seokjin hated you, and you hated Kim Seokjin.

The after party was a nightmare. You sat at the bar, drink sloshing around lazily in the glass. Heavy bass drummed against your frame. Kim Seokjin was the center of attention, his broad shoulders and puffy lips high above the crowd.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” A reporter shoved a microphone into your face.

You groaned, not responding. You had a terrible conscience. If someone asked you a question, you felt obligated to answer truthfully, maybe that’s what got you into this mess. It was just easier if you kept quiet. The last thing you wanted was to add onto the feud even more.

Seokjin surveyed you out of the corner of his eyes. You always stole the spotlight, even when he had swept the awards. You were still the one getting interviewed the most, getting the most press. They all wanted to know your reaction. He hated you for that. At the same time, he admired your self restraint.

“Jin, what do you think about winning all the awards you were nominated for?” A reporter appeared. The broad shouldered man waved to the security.

“Who let paparazzi in?” He muttered under his breath as the reporters were escorted out.

A part of Jin really missed being a newer artist, like you. He couldn’t just write and produce his own songs anymore, he had a team for that. Everything needed to be approved by the higher ups and he always had to be happy. Meanwhile, you had made a name for yourself by saying what you wanted and making the music you wanted. Sure, you didn’t win awards, but at least you had that freedom. And he was jealous of that.

He brushed away the revelation and weaved his way through the crowd. The party had died down a little and his little posse had trickled out. His little gang of friends had left or were doing something else.

Taehyung was with Jungkook ordering and consuming copious amounts of food. Namjoon and Yoongi, well known producers, were huddled over a notebook and whispering lyrics to each other. Hoseok and Jimin had each gone home early.

Hoseok claimed he needed to practice, being the main dancer for Taehyung, and Jimin claimed he needed to check on his pets. You were sitting alone at the bar, ready to fall asleep, but your night wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t have a run in with Jin.

“Drowning your sorrows?” Jin plopped into a seat, leaning against the bar with a smug smile.

“Who says I’m drowning? I’m doing just fine.” You threw back the last sips of the drink.

He eyed the empty glasses littering the counter. The bartender was slowly going through and cleaning them up. Jin was a little worried, but he...he didn’t like you, as a person. You were self centered and hypocritical, but perhaps he was the same.

“How many of those have you had?”

“Unimportant.” You gestured for the bartender to pour another and the man looked warily at you.

“I think you should stick to water, miss.” The bartender smiled gently.

“Nah.” You shouted, not realizing how loud your voice was. “Just do your job and pour another.”

Jin sighed and put a hand over your glass, gently peeling your fingers back. “No, he’s right.” He said sternly and handed the glass back to the bartender, who looked thankful.

“You’re an asshole, Jin. Just let me be sad without gloating for once.” You deflated, slouching in your seat. He scoffed and looked away.

“You’re just being a sore loser. I won every category I was nominated for. How many categories did you even get nominated for, let alone win?” He bit back, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Fuck you.” You pointed at him, finger pressed hard against his chest.

Then you stood from your seat, shouldering your bag, and stormed out. Your phone pinged with unseen messages, all from your manager.

Jin rolled his eyes, but he did regret his words slightly. It had been so long, he wasn’t even sure why he was mad at you anymore. Why were you in a feud with him anyway? The man checked his phone. Three schedule reminders popped up and he grimaced. It was already 1 A.M. and he needed to be awake in five hours. He stood and bowed, saying his goodbyes to his friends, and leaving the bar.

He waited outside for his driver to pull around the block. It was quiet, the muffled pounding of the bass inside the bar leaked out. He wished he had your guts once in a while, to just say what he wanted. He wished he could be like you, just for a moment.

A light streaked across the sky, a comet passing by. His eyes widened in awe as the meteor shower began. It was...beautiful.

Meanwhile, you were lazing drunkenly over the window sill in your living room. The house was dark, the curtains open to allow for moonlight to trickle through. Some may be scared of the dark, but you always liked it. The peace of being alone, surrounded by nothing to distract you except your mind was appealing to you. Why? Who knew. You ran your finger along the dusty window sill.

You glanced at your phone. Your agent had messaged several times.

Why didn’t you win anything, huh?

Next time, you better win an award or…

They’re going to pull you from the label.

They thought you were going to be big, Y/N. It’s such a shame.

So many people were rooting for you. Maybe in another life.

You groaned and powered off your phone. How annoying. Your career was going down the drain, you had followers, but your music wasn’t getting the right platforms. It seemed that no matter how much you tried to get recognized, no one else cared. Your only worth was your feud with Seokjin.

“Goddamnit, Jin. Would you lend me just a bit of fame? Just a little? Let me breathe, give me a break.” You hissed under your breath.

You took a few steps back and collapsed onto your mattress. The meteor shower began, the brilliant streaks of white lit up the sky. It felt like the world was laughing at you, blessing you with such a beautiful sky on the worst night of your life.

This was not his house. Jin sat up straight. He felt different for sure, but then again, he did drink a bit last night. The man stood, wobbling slightly. How much did I drink? He thought, stumbling to the bathroom. Did he catch a ride with someone? He didn’t remember much. What did he do?

“Hello?” He called out hoarsely, only to yelp in surprise.

His voice was high. High and female, definitely not his voice. It was also...familiar. Jin threw open the door to the bathroom hurriedly. He rushed to the mirror, only to shriek in surprise.

That’s not my face….OH MY GOD THAT’S NOT MY FACE. He internally screamed, stumbling back. You were staring back at him. He rubbed his arms and looked down at his body. He felt his cheeks heating up. Yup, this was...this was a woman’s body. But how?

He slapped his hands over his cheeks. His face, his beautiful face! Okay, so that was a little vain. Jin studied himself. No, You were certainly...not hard to look at, that was for sure. He patted down his body. Then there was a ring from the bedside table and he vaulted over to pick it up. Your phone was ringing, his number flashing boldly.

“Y/N?” He whispered.

“Oh my fucking god, seokjin, what did you do this time?” His voice hissed over the line.

“This has to be a nightmare. Oh god, please wake up.” He cried slapping his face.

“Hey! Don’t ruin the merchandise!” You shouted.

Then another realization hit him. You could ruin his career. He needed to accept that this was happening and get his priorities straight. You were in his body. You had all the power...and you hated him.

“Nice clothes, Jin.” Your sarcastic drawl crackled through the speaker. Even he could hear it, despite it being his own voice.

“They’re all custom fit.” He bragged, marching over to your closet. “What do you have in here? Trash? Oh, this could easily pass as a paper bag. Was beige in style when you picked it out?” He said snarkily, throwing some clothing behind him and onto the bed. He ignored your protests.

“Jin! Get! Out! Of! My! Closet! Also you better not have touched my body you perv!” You shouted so loud that your voice broke off.

“What? I’m just doing some reorganizing. Besides, you think I want to touch your body? You flatter yourself.” He said, throwing another beige item out of the closet. He pretended he didn’t hear you scolding him from over the phone.

“It’s like you only shop during fall and then go into hibernation.” He commented. “Which is likely, considering how many albums you’ve released.” He muttered, but oh boy had you heard him.

“At this point, I don’t care, Jin.” You grumbled over the line. “I’m about to be dropped anyway.”

The beige sweater in his hands tumbled to the ground. Sure, he knew you had been struggling, but was it really that bad? He was at a loss for words. The man took a deep breath in.

“Why?” He asked, concern evident. He slowly put down a pair of blue jeans.

“I’m not as successful as they thought I would be.” You explained, defeat in your voice. “If I don’t win an award at the next show, I’ll be dropped. Also, why is Taehyung crashed on the couch?”

His eyes widened. A lot of the group crashed at his mansion after a long night out. It was easier than driving them all to six different locations.

“Shit.” He muttered. “Okay, just, just act normal, alright? I’ll be there soon and maybe we can explain this to them.” He whispered, hanging up and searching through your closet for a decent outfit.

This was not how you wanted your morning to go. You stood, dressed casually and waiting by the front door anxiously. Your arms were crossed and you tapped your foot. Taehyung stumbled around behind you.

“So you’re telling me that you’re Y/N and not Jin?” He asked.

“Yes.” You said shortly, having already explained it a million times. “You’ll see when he gets here.”

Taehyung took a seat at the counter, his blonde hair falling in waves around his face. He drummed his fingers on the marble surface. His dark eyes glanced you over.

“How much did you drink last night, Jin? Are you feeling alright?”

“For the thousandth time, I’m Y/N, not Jin!” You huffed angrily.

“Okay, okay, you’re Y/N then.” He held his hands up. “But just let me know when your little act is over, okay?” He winked.

You resisted the urge to scream in rage at his lack of understanding. With the twinkle in his eye and the mischievous look on his lips, you couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or genuinely not believing your story. Your lips twisted into a deep frown and you stalked over to him, ready to talk some sense into him when the door flung open. You turned around, face shifting.

“Aish, a frown really doesn’t look pretty on my face.” A voice came from the doorway. Your voice. You were used to looking up at Jin, now you looked down. Was that really how you looked? You felt self conscious suddenly.

“Are you trying to give me wrinkles before 30 or something?” Jin sighed, leaning against the door. “Besides, why didn’t you lock the door?”

“That’s my fault.” taehyung piped up, suspiciously looking between you.

“Yah! Taehyung you really need to be more careful about that! What if someone tries to break in while I’m asleep! And technically, you’re breaking in.” Jin huffed.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “No way, that’s totally something Jin would say. Are you shitting me?”

“I’ve been trying to explain this to you for the past 30 minutes, Taehyung.” You paced angrily.

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.” Taehyung smiled lazily, flashing the golden piece of metal. “But are you being serious? That you’ve...switched?”

“Why else would I be talking to him.” You gestured to Jin with your head, annoyance staining your features.

“This is why I don’t scowl.” Jin chimed in, walking over to you and smoothing out your face. “It looks awful.” His fingers brushed against your cheek.

“Awful? I’m offended. This is my body you’re talking about.”

“Technically it’s mine. So don’t go commit arson or something while you’re in there.” Jin crossed his arms.

“Trust me, I have bigger things to worry about and do.” You shot back.

“Will you guys just shut up?” Taehyung slapped the counter, causing your attention to shift once more. “How the fuck are you guys going to change back? Jin, you have a million interviews this week about the awards show and Y/N has, I don’t know, songwriting to get to?”

“Ah, fuck you to, Tae.” You frowned.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” You mumbled in response.

“Anyway, I think I can fake it until we can figure this out.” You said, lifting your chin. “It won’t be too hard to act like a narcissistic ass who pretends not to be.”

“Hey!” Jin shouted his protests. A ping from a cellphone caused you to jump. Jin recognized it and began to search his pockets before realizing he was you.

You seemed to get the memo and you pulled out the phone in your pocket. It buzzed with a calendar reminder.

“An interview in an hour?” You said quietly. Then you dropped the phone onto the counter. “Oh my god, there’s an interview in an hour.”

“It’s really weird to see such expressions on Jin’s face.” Taehyung mused.

“Shit shit shit.” You, wait no, Jin said. “That’s the one to discuss the music in my album and talk about the awards show. Since it doesn’t seem like we’re going to solve this in an hour, don’t fuck it up.”

“Excuse me, it’s my album now and I will say what I like.” You pursed your lips.

“I don’t expect you to understand the lyrics and songs in my album.”

“The lyrics written by your team of lyricists? Yeah, I won’t think twice about the meaning of ‘girl you look so fire’.” You air quoted.

“You think you’re so much better because you write your own lyrics, huh? Well, it’s ridiculous. Stop trying to be an outsider when you’re very much in the public eye.” Jin stated, but his words held a ring of truth.

You were, indeed, very popular, why did you feel the need to be ‘special’ and pretend to be all unique and weird? It drove him mad and he counted it as another reason he disliked you. You didn’t respond to his statement, instead remaining silent.

Yes, you were fuming inside, but it was only because you felt like kicking yourself. There were so many times you had been offered premium spots, but you had turned it down, thinking it was too mainstream or times when you could have made a chart topping song and instead you chose the more casual songs.

“Fine.” You admitted defeat. “I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll try my best not to fuck this up.” You said earnestly. “But in return, please just...don’t look through my desk.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal. Should there be another reason?”

“Fine.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

The interviewer was an idiot. He only ever asked you the most obvious of questions. There’s no depth or deeper meaning he’s looking for other than for you to gloat and cause more drama with...yourself.

“You completely swept the show this year.” The man lightly clapped and you mimicked it.

You were already sweating under the pressure of the lights and the knowledge that you had to sound like Seokjin. Not only did you have to sound like Seokjin, but you also had to give the right answers.

“That’s amazing. You’re one of the fastest growing artists of the century. It’s incredible, really. How does it feel, knowing that millions have their eyes on you?”

Suffocating. It’s so hard to breathe. Was this what it was like all the time? You almost felt bad for Jin, but at the same time you wanted to roll your eyes. The interviewer was just trying to butter you up so that you could spill any juicy secrets.

Sadly, you don’t think he would buy the ‘I switched bodies with my arch nemesis and now we’re here.’ secret.

Speaking of which, how did you get into this mess in the first place? And how were you going to get out of it? Was it something to do with your wish the other night? The meteor shower? But according to all the body swap movies you’d seen before, he must have wished for your life as well. Which seemed absurd. Why would the Kim Seokjin want to forfeit his life to body swap for some nobody artist like you?

“It’s honestly such an honor, you know?” You tried your best to respond like him. You could almost see him face palming. “It’s surreal. I still can’t believe it’s happening.” You continued. “Everyone remember to stream Dynamite!” You plugged, flashing a dazzling smile.

It seemed to be the right move because the crowd went wild.

“Now, Jin, you haven’t mentioned Awake, your latest song. I know Dynamite and Mic Drop have been huge successes, really, but Awake you rarely mention. Maybe you can give some insight into your thoughts behind the song? I know I want to know.”

Okay, maybe you were wrong. The interviewer was smart as shit. And now you had to analyze Jin’s lyrics. You had heard the song a couple times and it honestly wasn’t that bad. You could make something up and continue on with the interview. You remembered he mentioned once a while ago that it was completely written by himself, no lyricists, nada. So you supposed you should honor that.

“As you know,” you started carefully. “Awake is one of the few songs completely written by me.” You kicked yourself for your wording, but forged onward. You took a deep breath, thinking for a moment.

“It’s about...it’s about struggling with insecurities. I’ve always felt like my voice wasn’t good enough, my music would never make it, that I don’t cut it in the industry. I feared I would just be another pretty face stuck onto generic pop music.” You found yourself rambling, releasing some inner frustration you had in yourself.

“Awake was my form of release. I pushed all my negative thoughts and energy into the song. My doubts, my fears, and what I long for. It speaks of my...my desperation to continue, even when I felt like things were bleak for me. Something inside told me to keep running, keep creating, and I did. That’s why I’m thankful I’m able to be where I am now.” You concluded. “And that’s why Awake is such a personal song to me.”

Obviously, a full lyrical and psychological breakdown of the song had not been what the interviewer was expecting, but he seemed pleased nonetheless.

“Wow, so it must mean a lot to you?”

“Yeah.” You answered half heartedly, feeling emotionally drained from that speech.

“So I heard from the daily idol that-”

His words muffled and you answered his questions monotonously. Why had you gone into so much detail? It was like a switch had been flipped. The lyrics weren’t bad. In fact, the song was good and you could see yourself easily sobbing over it, but it just had to be written by Jin. It was such a shame, yet at the same time, it showed that Jin could write meaningful lyrics if he wanted to.

The only reason he needed a lyricist team, you concluded, was pure greed and laziness. That only gave you more reason to dislike him, but, as the song said: My happy times asked me this question; You, are you really okay? it asked me. And after all of that, were you really okay with hating Kim Seokjin?

Your phone pinged. You glanced down at the screen to see one text from Jin.

Did you mean what you said?

Jin was really hoping you hadn’t completely fucked his career. He was also hoping that your agent would stop texting you for one minute. Instead, he was bombarded with questions like ‘are you writing?’ ‘What are you doing to improve?’ ‘You better win more at the Grammys, got it?’ ‘Are you going to lose to Seokjin again?’ ‘Why aren’t you answering?’

He wanted to slam his head into a wall. Why would you ever put up with this? He mindlessly scrolled through earlier texts. At first, it seemed the relationship started off alright, but every now and then toxicity would come through on the agent’s part.

Soon enough, it just devolved into you not answering her texts and her berating you. From your attitude, however, her berating was as good as yelling at a wall. Even he knew that you wouldn’t budge. But...you loved your career. That was obvious enough. You loved your job, you loved making music. What would happen if that got taken away?

Well, it wasn’t happening on his watch. He refused to be the reason you lost your job. So he did what he promised we wouldn’t. Jin searched your desk drawers. He had a feeling he knew what it was you were hiding, but he wanted to make sure. It was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission in this case.

He rummaged around before he pulled out an old and tattered, leather bound, notebook. Inside were songs and lyrics dating all the way back to when you would have been in middle school. The handwriting got progressively messier, but your lyrics were...beautiful.

As he read over them, he was swept into another world. From cloudy skies to hazy summer afternoons, he read through your journey. The songs were cheesy at first, but then they slowly delved into darker subjects.

You wrote your mental health struggles, your relationship issues, your anger, everything was placed in this one leather notebook. It felt wrong to hold this much power, this much information, in his hands. Yet, they were technically your hands. Did he feel bad? Yes. Was he ever going to bring it up? No, because he valued his life.

“Y/N? Open up, I’ve got to brief you on the photoshoot!” A voice shouted from the front door.

Jin looked up, startled, and gently placed the journal where he found it. Then he rushed to the door.

“Who are you?” He barked.

“It’s Lisa, who else? Now open the door, we don’t have a ton of time!” Her voice was hurried, so he reluctantly opened the door.

“A photoshoot?” He breathed, confused.

“Yes, the big photoshoot for your comeback. Did you hit your head or something? This is all you’ve been talking about for the past month.” The girl, Lisa, rolled her eyes.

“More like switched bodies with my worst enemy.” He grumbled.

The blonde haired girl narrowed her eyes and he remembered his place. You were doing a good job at pretending to be him and it hadn’t even occurred to you, it seemed, to try and ruin his career. So the least he could do was to return the favor.

“What?”

“Sorry, nevermind.” He waved it off. How did you usually act with people? He never could tell. You were always snarky with him, but after reading your lyrics and walking around in your body, you didn’t seem to carry yourself that way.

“Well, as your agent, I really need you to get it together, alright?”

“You’re my agent?” He gaped. After seeing the way she treated you, it was all he could do to stop himself from rushing at her.

But he wouldn’t have the same strength he had when he was in his usual body. It was a little concerning how casual and easy it felt to be in another person’s body. It was like it was growing on him and he didn’t like it one bit. Jin was getting comfortable and the feeling of unease had been lost on him.

“Indeed I am. Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine. Really.” He managed. The man settled himself on the couch while Lisa went over the requirements.

“So we’re looking here for a more mystical approach. I know it’s a lot different from your usual no nonsense approach, but this could be good in repainting your image and getting you into more drama. A little birdy told me Jin is doing the same concept, so hopefully you’ll attract some buzz.”

“Shouldn’t I…” He wasn’t sure how you spoke or treated your agent, so he fought for the right words. “Shouldn’t I look into distancing myself from the Jin drama?”

To his surprise, your agent furrowed her eyebrows. Lisa seemed appalled by this.

“Y/N. We’ve been over this. Jin is keeping you relevant, keeping you in the public eye. Your feud causes people to draw sides and therefore, we get more publicity. So don’t you understand? Jin is the reason you’re anybody.” the woman sniffed. “Focus on getting as many followers as possible before I set up the formal meeting to settle it, okay? Trust me, this is a mutually beneficial feud.”

Jin frowned. You had all these beautiful lyrics, songs that meant something. Was the feud really that important?

“So I’ve got some reference photos here.” Lisa threw a pile of photos onto the table. Jin just stared. How did they get these? They weren’t even released yet.

“Where did you get these?” He still had to get used to the higher tone of your voice and it was quite honestly disconcerting. It felt like he was nervous all the time.

“You know I have my connections.” She winked.

Jin picked up a laminated photo and turned it over in his hands. He didn’t know what to say, this was all insane.

“Hello?” The woman snapped her fingers several times. “You okay? It’s like you’ve been replaced or something. Hellooooo? Y/N? Are you in there?”

“You don’t know how right you are.” He mumbled.

“What?”

Jin blinked rapidly, trying to regain your sense of personality. Right, right, how did you usually act? He hoped he hadn’t just royally fucked you over. Sure, this may not be his body, but he felt a sense of responsibility, being the temporary caretaker.

“Ah, nevermind, nevermind.” He waved it off with a little laugh. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, but continued on.

“You’ll arrive on set at least two hours prior in order to get you all set up. Then we’ll shoot. You’ll have a fifteen minute break and then we’ll do it again. Then you’re free. I know it’s a lot harsher than you’re used to but-”

“That’s all?” He was happy to be in your place at this moment. You had it so easy!

“Yeah, as I said, it’s a little intense but-”

“Pshhh I’ll be fine.” He reassured her and though she looked skeptical, she just nodded and gathered her things.

“Be there, 6:00 P.M. Goodbye, Y/N.” She dipped her head and slipped out the door, slamming the wood behind her. The wall shook.

“What a sourpuss.” He let out a sigh of relief and deflated, leaning against the couch. His phone buzzed.

Taehyung’s number flashed on screen. He mentally prepared himself and then picked up the call.

“Hello Y/N, or should I say...Jin!” Taehyung’s mischievous voice crackled through the speaker.

“God, I don’t need another reminder.” He grumbled.

He had successfully pulled off the ‘I hate everything about this’ look. But in truth, he didn’t hate this. It wasn’t so bad and it was a nice vacation.

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I did some research and well, the truth is, I found nothing.” Taehyung admitted. Before Jin could register this reality, the man on the other side continued. “But there’s gotta be a time limit. Maybe some other kind of limit. I’ll look into it.”

“Get on it, Kim.” Jin barked, growing tired of the conversation. “If you have nothing else important to say, just hang up.”

“Wow, so mean, Jin, to one of your closest friends too! Maybe Y/N was right about all that asshole stuff.”

“See!” You echoed from the background of the call.

“Is that Y/N? Y/N! Get on the phone right now, we need to have a talk about this!”

“Don’t you have a photoshoot in a bit?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Aw man,” Your voice came through clearer as Taehyung passed you the device. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Looking forward to stealing my concept?!”

There was a long pause and you let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Jin. I didn’t know until last week and it was too late to change.” Your voice was soft, gentle, and, dare he say, guilty?

He smoothed the wrinkles between his brows and paced between the couch and coffee table.

“It’s fine. You obviously don’t control your life.”

You actually felt hurt by that. Your expression went stony and cold, your grip on the device tightened.

“Yet you’re the one with every single part of your day scheduled down to the second.” You pulled the phone away bitterly to look at the piling notifications.

“It helps keep me on task.” He defended lamely.

“Why? It just seems...stressful. You have no free time. Honestly, it’s reckless, that’s what it is. One day you’re just going to collapse. You’re such an idiotic ass, you know? And don’t think I can’t feel the soreness in your muscles, Jin, because I can-”

His hands clenched into fists. Who were you to judge his lifestyle? Sure, he’d made fun of your wardrobe, but he hadn’t tried to insult you as...a person.

“-If I stop moving, I feel restless. It’s better to just wake up and gogo go until I can’t, then fall asleep. Do it all again. If I stop moving, it feels like death. Was that what you wanted?”

“No Jin, I didn’t mean to pry I-”

“Just stop talking. I never thought I’d see the day I was sick of hearing my own goddamn voice.” He said coldly and hung up.

You didn’t understand at all. And how could you? Sure, you were in his body, but it wasn’t like you had the years of training instilled in your brain or the knowledge that he accumulated through the time he’d been a star. He checked the time. The photoshoot was soon, and he planned to be there right on time.

“Why did you give me the stupidest smile.” You groaned, arm falling over your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, I work with what I got and I worked you hard. This just must be all you got.” Jin huffed, leaning back in his chair. “And what was up with that speech about Awake?”

“I meant every word.” You said firmly.

He was quiet for a moment, not having a retort. You didn’t like dragging things out and it was bound to come out sooner or later.

What terrified you was how easy it was to be Jin. It was like trying on clothes, but these fit better than anything you’d ever worn. Sure, it had been disorienting in the beginning, but now you’d learned so much about Jin. How he liked his coffee, what shoes he wore for which events, what his favorite shirt was, how he treated his staff, etc. The more you found out about Jin, the less you had to hate about him. Still, his ego was insufferable.

The whir of the fan in the room rotated and filled the silence. The greenery of his house was nice, but you preferred the ‘I’m poor and want to be fashionable’ feel your apartment had. Thus, you had agreed to meet with Seokjin to discuss the situation at his, your, place. You didn’t want to think about him rooting around your things, but honestly at this point, you might as well be naked around each other. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it by now.

“I keep thinking about that night, Y/N.” Jin mumbled. “Why were we switched that night?”

You remained silent, pulling your arm away from your face and staring at the white ceiling. There was a crack in it that ran all the down the hallway. The paint was fading as well, giving away to the garish blue you had covered a year ago. There was still a stain in the left corner because Jennie had once projectile vomited up there when she had too much to drink. You shuddered at the memory.

“Maybe it had to do with the meteor shower.” You shrugged.

The new depth of your voice wasn’t disconcerting anymore and seeing him walking around in your body was fine, as long as he wasn’t screwing anything up, you could care less.

“Maybe.” He hummed in response.

“You know I still hate you.” You said, but you weren’t sure.

You wanted it to be that way, desperately, but nothing could be the same after whatever this was, was over. You wanted to go back to hating Seokjin’s guts.

“I do too.” He responded, but there was a lack of bite.

“I hate you. I hate your arrogant ass, your ego, and your guts.” You rolled over, locking eyes with him.

He was gazing at you, amusement in his features. You thought that you should look amused more often. Since the feud broke out, you usually wore a scowl or frown.

“But I hate myself more for being jealous of you.” You pointed at him. “Don’t you understand? Having an ego is a blessing. Being arrogant is a privilege. Normal people don’t get to just go around, brag about their accomplishments and be rewarded for that.”

He laughed softly, the high pitched noise tingling your ears. There were parts of him that showed through, even when he was in your body.

The first was his mannerisms. They were always more egotistical than what you usually went for. It was like he physically couldn’t choose wording that sounded humble.

The second was his smile. He still smiled the same way, lips peeling back to reveal pearly white teeth. It looked so unnatural on your face, but it suited him, always had.

The third and final one was his laugh. He would still laugh the same squeaky windshield wiper laugh. It was contagious.

The man stood and took your finger, which was still pointed at him, and slowly lowered it. He wrapped his hands around your own and held on tightly.

“Now why would you be jealous of me?”

You forgot his eyes. Despite them being yours, his eyes did not change. In his eyes, you saw sincerity, an emotion you once thought too complex for him.

“I’ve lived in your body for well over a week, Jin. You have a busy schedule and I’m exhausted at the end of every day, but...there’s security in that. You don’t have to feel like you’re hanging onto the end of a string that’s about to break 24/7.”

He nodded, seemingly mulling over your words.

“I’m jealous of you, Y/N.” The man said. It was so odd seeing words forming from your lips that you had not made. “I’m jealous of the way you can do what you like, the way you can speak your mind and no one cares. I’m jealous that you can make the music you want. Y/N, I’m jealous because your lyrics are beautiful, meaningful, and you’re allowed to sing them.” He continued on gently.

“You saw my lyrics?” Your throat went dry.

Those lyrics were your safe haven. They had been invaded by foreign eyes, yet you didn’t really mind it. He was in your body, living your life. He would have found it sooner or later.

“Yes, I did.” He dropped your hands. “I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t-”

“No, Jin, it’s...it’s okay.” You smiled. Your gaze wandered, trying to looked anywhere but him.

“Now where do we go from here?”

“We just do our best, I think, roll with the punches.”

“The awards show is only a week away.”

“Then we do our best.”

“And if we don’t ever change back?”

“Jin,” You caught him firmly in your gaze. He froze and you wondered if that’s really what you looked like when you blushed. “We’ll do our best and everything will work itself out, I’m sure of it.”

“I trust you, then.”

The makeup artist brushed another streak of gold across your cheekbones. You held perfectly still.

“Almost done!” The artist squeaked, brushing over your chin now. The fine tips of the brush tickled your face and the gold dust floating through the air made you want to sneeze.

The roar of the crowd was a dull thud in the background next to your heartbeat. You were up next, the act before you just finished up. You could see the stage and the lights set for your turn.

You had spent the past week memorizing every detail, memorizing the lyrics, practicing your instrument of choice. It had been hectic, but it would be worth it. You were going to show the world you were a changed person. You took a deep breath, shaking out your arms and legs as the makeup artist drifted away.

You tried not to sweat or breathe too heavily as the large screens lit up to announce the next artist. As much as you wished it was your name showing up on that screen, it was not. Your name would be later in the program. No, right now, you were Kim Seokjin, superstar, worldwide handsome, and the most awaited performance of the night.

“Kim. Seok. Jin.” The announcer said, letting the stadium fill with cheers. You could only ever dream of this success and you thanked Jin for lending you his body.

On the stage, a grand piano rose to the top. It was empty, just waiting for someone to play it. You knew he was watching in the audience, waiting for his song to play, waiting to see how you sang it. You were thankful his vocal capabilities carried over to you through his body. You walked on stage and it was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. The audience was rightfully confused.

The past week, you had been brainstorming a way to make his piece stand out against the generic pop songs of the others. Blaring music just didn’t seem...it didn’t seem right for this song. It deserved a slower, more subtle production. So you set about learning it on piano. You had practiced until well into the morning every night and you were exhausted, but you knew it by heart.

You sat on the bench, the wood creaking loudly. It was like the audience had faded away and you were alone, practicing over and over, singing until you couldn’t any more. You smoothed out your pants and took a deep breath, hands hovering above the keys. Then you looked at the camera and gave his signature wink. Which led to a roll of laughter and shrieks from the crowd. Then it went quiet once more. You could have sworn you heard his laugh.

You played the first chord. Then the next. No going back now. Contrary to the audience’s belief, no dancers would come out halfway through, the music wouldn’t suddenly kick in. No, this would be the breather, the quiet song amidst the chaos. You took a deep breath, begging and praying for his godly stable vocals.

“It’s not that I believe it, but that I want to try holding out. Because this is all that I can do.” You began to sing Awake.

The song that helped bring you closer to its creator, the song that reminded you of the beginning of this mess. Yet, it no longer felt like a mess and more like a blessing. You had never thought it would be going on this long, though. Maybe Jin was right, maybe this would be forever? You played the next notes, hands dancing over the keys in a practiced and steady rhythm.

Three Years Ago

“Oh, Jennie, please can you grab my lyrics? I left them on the desk, they’re really messy so you should recognize them!” You called to your friend. She nodded and hurried back inside to fetch the papers.

At BigHit Entertainment, you planned to be a producer, nothing else. You wanted to produce music, make tons of money off royalties, and retire early. That was the plan, until they suggest you try out to be an idol.

You didn’t work well in a group, far too stubborn, so they set you on the solo track. You were currently writing your first album and your debut was coming up fast.

The entirety of your body ached. Your legs were sore from running and your feet hurt from standing all day. Your arms screamed in pain when you tried to lift anything due to the amount of dance practice you’d been in.

The thing that was the worst, was your throat. You weren’t a singer, okay. You sang a bit, but not a ton, and even with vocal lessons, singing for upwards of four hours a day was taxing on your body. The things that really helped were your friends and sleep.

Sadly you got neither of those things. Without being in a girl group, you barely knew anyone and you had maybe four hours of sleep a night with studying and practice. Besides, you had maybe one person you could consider a friend; Jennie. And you had another you could consider a rival.

Kim Seokjin. Multi-talented, sculpted like the gods, and arrogant as shit. He only ever rolled his eyes when you were around and he never had anything nice to say to you or anyone else. He kissed ass as well. Just another thing you hated about him.

Okay, so hate was a strong word, but you very much disliked him. He just never seemed to like your guts, no matter what you did. At first, it had been intimidating, but now it was just annoying.

“Well, well, well, Y/N.” Speak of the devil.

“Just get it over with.” You groaned, turning to face the handsome prick. “What do you want?”

“Just some company.” He said innocently. “I’m waiting for the bus to the dorms as well.” He explained, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Sure. Well, I hope you enjoy silence, because that’s what I love best.” You dug around your bag and withdrew your earbuds.

You plugged in your phone and popped in one bud just as Jennie came running back. She was barely sweating, even after running up and down the stairs for your notes. Cardio was intense for the more dance based girl groups.

“Here you go!” She said, oblivious to the tension around you and Jin.

“Oh thank you.” You shot her a weak smile.

“Bye!” She waved, rushing out the door to her waiting members.

You watched her leave, begging her to stay with your eyes. Once her van was pulling out, you sighed. Great, now you were stuck with Jin. You glanced down at the papers. Oh shit. These are not your papers. You cursed under your breath.

“Whatcha got there, Y/N?” He broke the silence, peering over your shoulder.

You immediately slapped the papers to your chest. What if he thought you were stealing? When could you sneak back and put them away?

“Let me see.” He whined, craning over your shoulder before finally stepping in front of you. “Is it lyrics? It’s okay, I just want to hear!”

“N-no!” You stuttered, folding up the papers. “Just schoolwork I forgot.”

He narrowed his eyes, the playful look gone. Maybe you should have just told the truth.

“Show me what you have in your hands, Y/N.” He said darkly, his voice smooth and monotone.

You felt like a child about to be scolded. When you didn’t respond, he reached forward and plucked it out of your hands.

“Oh I see. So now you’re just stealing from me.”

“What? No!”

“Then why do you have my lyrics in your hands?!”

“I was going to return them I swear!”

“Yeah, right.”

Before you could explain yourself, he strutted outside. “I won’t forget this, Y/N.”

A paper fluttered to the ground and you rushed to pick it up, but he was already gone. The paper was in a puddle and you hurriedly scooped it up. The ink was already ruined. At the top of the page, the words Awake by Kim Seokjin were bleeding down the page.

The audience was hushed, confused by the somber tone. Still, many people had smiles on their faces or perhaps a little tear in their eyes. You continued the song to the end. The melody carried over the quiet stadium like a ghost. The haunting appeal drew more in every second. Televisions from around the world tuned in to watch, eyes glued to the screen. So this is what it feels like to have the world’s eyes on you.

Backstage, Jin watched the performance silently. His eyes remained on the screen, even through his makeup and wardrobe. His own sweet voice pierced the room. Was that how he sounded? He always joked that he was ‘the best singer’ but in his heart, he never believed it. The man smoothed down the dress. It complimented your body well, and he was reminded that this was indeed your body and not his.

Whenever someone called ‘Jin’ or ‘Y/N’, both of you would turn around. It was actually pretty funny to watch. Your agent cursed.

“He’s going to sweep the awards again with a ballsy performance like that.” Lisa muttered.

“I never knew my song could be sung like that.” He murmured. Then he straightened up, playing your part dutifully. “It’s too slow, honestly.” he rolled his eyes and Lisa snickered along with him.

“Half of the staff are sleeping.” Lisa mused, before turning back to check over her list.

Jin took a deep breath. “Lisa.” He turned to the woman, who didn’t even look up. “I want to end the feud with Jin. It’s unnecessary and hurting my career and reputation beyond repair.”

The woman blinked a few times. Then she laughed.

“That’s hilarious. If you can somehow convince Jin to let that happen, then by all means, be my guest, but I’m sure he also realizes how necessary you are to building his career.”

“I’m sure he’ll agree.” He said coldly, lacing his fingers together. Lisa narrowed her eyes before turning back to her list.

“Like I said, only if you can convince him, because I won’t.”

The piano slowly faded to silence. You held your breath, standing and bowing. It was quiet for a moment, then a roll of applause fell over the audience. It felt like waves crashing over your body. You smiled sheepishly, blowing a kiss to the camera for fanservice points. Then you exited the stage where Jin, I mean, you, were getting ready to go on next.

He eyed you as you stepped out. Then, just as you were about to slip by, he grasped your arm.

“Good job.” His voice was quiet. You nodded at his words, taken off guard. He dropped his hand and you softly whispered back.

“I never stole your music, you know.” You said, saying what had been on your mind for the past three years.

“I know.” He said, his grin fading.

“Good.” You said stiffly. “Good luck out there, Y/N.”

He shot you a cocky smile and strutted out on stage.

“For best artist of the year, the nominees are…” The announcer stood on stage, a golden envelope in hand. “Kim Seokjin.”

A roar of applause came from the crowd and fangirls squealed loudly. You winked at the camera and then face forward. A short montage of Jin played on screen.

“Y/L/N Y/N.”

You watched a compilation of yourself and applauded their work. They made you look pretty nice. There was a similar ripple of applause.

“Kim Taehyung.”

The same occurred, but he remained stoic throughout the montage. His eyes flicked warily over between you and Jin.

“And Jeon Jungkook.”

Rinse and repeat.

You held your breath.

“And the winner is…”

You made eye contact with Jin across the way. You were seated directly in front of the stage and he was seated further to the left. He smiled and nodded. You felt your heart rate accelerate. Was it you? It was the last award of the night, it had to be you. And yet, you would never feel that rush of applause, never get to make that speech, because of this stupid curse. Maybe it was your fault for wishing it.

“Y/L/N Y/N!” The announcer shouted and you watched Jin stand from his place.

You watched him step up the stairs careful not to trip on the dress, and take a stand at the microphone. In his hands was a trophy, it’s cool metal gleaming. How many times had you wished to hold that trophy? To feel the weight of it in your hands.

“Hello.” He spoke, the mic rang a little and he chuckled. “It is such an honor to be receiving this award. I would like to thank my parents, for supporting me,” Now that was a bold faced lie, but you let him off the hook.

“My agent, for helping to boost me to success, and all the hardworking staff at BigHit for making this dream come true.”

It was the usual speech. Boring. You would have made it far more memorable. You tried your best not to let jealousy blind you in this moment.

“But my real speech here is for anyone who feels they can’t do what they like. You see, I know a girl who writes beautiful lyrics, lyrics that take you to another dimension and music that does the same.”

“Yet, our industry does not reward simply passion for the craft, it rewards your dedication to your company and the ability to follow directions.”

“We, as artists, need to learn how to inspire confidence in ourselves and others, so that we can make the music we want to.” He took a deep breath. “Your greatest fear...maybe even your greatest enemy,” He found your eyes in the crowd.

“May be your greatest weapon.”

And in that moment, he took a step forward towards the mic and you felt a tugging sensation. You blinked and you were standing at the mic, your eyes trained to the crowd.

You were you again. And you got to enjoy the standing ovation, the swell of the crowd like a rising tide. Yet, your eyes still went to him. You didn’t hate Kim Seokjin anymore.

You admired him, you were jealous of him, but you found yourself liking him. That laugh of his, which you would have thought annoying, was now a tally mark of reasons why you enjoyed his company.

You found him in the crowd, despite the dimness of the lights. He was still seated, getting his bearings. A smile easily made its way onto your face and you met eyes. The man simply smiled at you and raised his glass.

Maybe I, I can never fly I can’t fly like the flower petals over there Or as though I have wings Maybe I, I can’t touch the sky Still, I want to stretch my hand out I want to run Just a bit more

Some people I wanted to tag! @youarejesting @moccahobi @yoongi-sugaglider

#kim seokjin #bts #bts x reader #seokjin #jin #jin x reader #enemies to friends #fluff #angst #A Mile in My Shoes #Platonic!Seokjin #tatawrites #castlebangtan #100 followers celebration #body swap au

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twiistedgalaxies · 4 years ago

Text

Cuck for One Uses Tinder

"All for One, infamous boogeyman of the underworld, felt his non-existent eye twitch as one of his minions slid a stack of forums onto his desk. They were divorce papers. In a matter of moments, said minion became a red smear on the office wall. He had broken out of Tartarus for this nonsense? Seriously??"

A/N: I'm sorry, I don't have any excuse for this. I woke up in the middle of the night with the plot idea for this fic and thus this monstrosity was born. Bone Apple Teeth.

All for One, infamous boogeyman of the underworld, felt his non-existent eye twitch as one of his minions slid a stack of forums onto his desk. They were divorce papers. In a matter of moments, said minion became a red smear on the office wall. He had broken out of Tartarus for this nonsense? Seriously?? Made even worse was the fact that, with the aid of search, he found that All Might, kami damn him, and his now ex-wife were constantly spending time together. He had half a mind to head to the apartment complex that he owned and paid for and reclaim what was his.

“Sensei?” A familiar, raspy voice spoke up behind him and he felt the onset of a stress induced headache. The brat was meant to be his successor and potential replacement body. Unfortunately, those damn heroes had broken into the hospital before he could be fully developed, and All for One had to fish the young man out of a decayed crater the size of several city blocks before he could be thrown in Tartarus in a cell next to him. He wanted eventual retirement, and has had his plans foiled at every turn.

“Yes Shigaraki?” he replied, standing up from his chair.

“What happened? I underwent the operation one minute and the next thing I knew-”

“Ah, that. You were awakened several months before you were meant to. That’s why I called this doctor here to-” He glanced at the red stain, realizing that the man in question had been eviscerated in his divorce-papers induced rage, “-No matter, I’ll do it myself, come.”

All for One led Shigaraki down a series of winding hallways and stairs into a room filled with large test tubes and the few Noumu that remained after the raid on Dr. Garaki’s hospital. He stood before one that was open, not yet filled with the preservation fluid that left the Noumu in suspended animation. “Everything should be calibrated properly, if you’ll just step inside, the process will resume.”

Shigaraki scowled, “I’m not doing this for you,” he clarified, scratching the back of his neck, “This dream is my own, this is just the means to an end.”

If All for One had eyes, he would have rolled them with disdain, instead he said, “Sure, just step into the machine Tomura, or would you like to remain in your half-finished state?”

The young man let out a huff and begrudgingly complied. All for One injected him with enough anaesthetic to subdue a horse and closed the convex glass door. He fiddled with the controls for a moment - he hated being, for all intents and purposes, blind - and soon the tube was filling with preservation fluid as Shigaraki’s upgrades resumed. It was only then, in the greenish glow of the underground laboratory, that All for One realized with some dread that he had months of unfilled time on his hands.

-@~*^*~@-

All for One’s first course of action was to break into the bedroom of a young girl on the UA campus. He had, through his various underground contacts, heard of the Overhaul incident. How a man so incompetent had managed to go so far in his plans baffled him. Truly, the state of the hero industry has fallen since his prime. It was not the man’s fanaticism nor his sadism that fascinated him, but rather the child he’d had in his possession that was now under UA’s care. Her quirk, Rewind, was rather interesting with infinite and overpowered applications. He’d be tempted to take it for himself permanently had she not emotionally latched herself to a certain, green haired teen that proved time and time again to be a thorn in his side. It was simple enough to slip through UA’s security in the dead of night, to disable all nearby cameras with a mere flick of his hand. It was a wonder what a technopathy quirk could accomplish.

She was asleep, small face peaceful. He could feel contentment radiating from her. Likely having a good dream, he mused. Gently, All for One placed one of his large hands on her forehead. He borrowed her quirk, and felt his body rewind several years, before his fateful battle with All Might. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crept across his face as he opened his eyes for the first time in nearly a decade. Quickly, he returned Rewind to her and used a warp quirk (the same one he used in Kamino) to leave the premises. There was no need to alert the heroes to his restored state. Yet.

At least he’d be able to show up to his divorce hearing in person, though it would take every ounce of willpower he had to not level the courthouse.

-@~*^*~@-

All for One was lounging on his couch in his makeshift home and using his phone in an attempt to understand The Youth (which to him, was anyone who wasn’t in a nursing home). On a whim, he installed Tinder, it had been decades since he really got into the dating world. His lover has been villainy, generally being an asshole, and terrorizing aspiring heroes. Having to wait for his plans to unfold was making him restless. Anyways, he was planning to get into politics now that he had his face back, as a way to enact social change without having to deal with a slew of moronic underlings. It didn’t hurt to build the foundations for his retirement, and having at least some people in his life could make him more relatable to the public and help his long term goals. He was planning to use his ex-wife and estranged son for this, but the divorce threw that plan out the window. People don’t tend to trust those who spring into existence seemingly from nowhere. (To be honest, he was just lonely, not that he’d admit it to anyone, especially not himself.)

Where was he? Ah yes, Tinder. As it stood right now, he was swiping through the incredibly vain and shallow app, no one had truly caught his eye. No one that is, until his gaze (and didn’t that feel good to say?) landed on a disheveled man with long dark hair, stubble, and dark undereye circles that stood out against his pale skin. Aizawa Shota, 31. Eraserhead. He was tempted to swipe left on impulse when he paused. Getting close to heroes could be convenient to his political goals. There was no better or more ironic way to take out the hero commission than from within after all, plus it would give him information his underground contacts lacked. Yes, this would do nicely. (And if he found the man’s sleep deprivation and dry sense of humor charming as they spoke through text that night, well, that was just a side benefit.)

They had decided to meet at a nearby cat café that evening, and All for One showed up in his best suit. It was a dark, wine red and chosen to match his eyes. Belatedly he realized he was overdressed when Aizawa showed up in a simple t-shirt and dark jeans. Whoops.

He extended his hand for the other to shake, “Hisashi Kamiya, a pleasure to meet you.” It was absolutely not a pleasure to meet the erasure hero, but Aizawa didn’t need to know that. He couldn’t help but quirk his lips at his own last name. He had chosen it after the divorce, Shigaraki most certainly wasn’t going to fly, especially since his protégé had gained some degree of infamy.

Aizawa nodded, eyes narrowing, as he shook his head, “Aizawa Shota.”

The cat café was a small, square building lined with blue wooden panels. The windows glowed with a warm orange light, and the smell of java floated through the air. The interior was just as quaint, Hisashi noted as he opened the door for the other, among the table and chairs were various cat towers and potted plants. Despite its humble appearance, the café was rather busy this evening, stuffed to the brim with overworked college students and romantic hopefuls. They ordered their drinks (Aizawa ordered a black coffee and Hisashi ordered an espresso with extra foam) and made their way to a small round table in the back corner.

“I just want you to know that I’m married and don’t want to pursue any sort of relationship,” Aizawa began, petting a small orange tabby that somehow already made its way onto his lap.

Hisashi balked at that, but quickly composed himself, “So why are you on Tinder? I assume you don’t take random strangers on dates for the joy of it.”

“I’m here because my students are villain catnip, and I want to make sure they don’t get maimed while they're out and about. Especially that one,” Aizawa gestured to a table across the room from them, “Problem child seems to attract the League of Villains everywhere he goes.”

Hisashi followed Aizawa’s gaze to the table in question and felt himself pale when he saw a familiar mop of curly green hair, his son. He swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his estranged kid was sitting only fifty feet away. “I can understand that, but why a cat café?” he asked.

Aizawa shrugged, “They’re on a date, plus I like cats.”

He had to do a double take, Izuku was with a boy that had dual toned hair. A date? Seriously? He hardly approved of his son doing such a thing at his young age. Part of him wanted to walk over and drag the teen from his table and out of the café. Instead of making his internal screams external, he smiled saccharinely, “It’s rather thoughtful of you to take time out of your busy schedule for your students, I’m sure it must be hard to juggle hero work and teaching.” And rather creepy. Who pestered and surveilled teenagers in their free time? Other than Hisashi of course, but he was the exception.

Before Aizawa could give him a response, their drinks were set in front of them. The foam on Hisashi’s espresso had been poured in the shape of a smiling cat. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to launch it at his date and run. Instead, he took a sip, grimacing slightly. Too much sweetener. They sat in an awkward silence, Aizawa didn’t seem like one to make conversation. Somehow the man had attracted more cats to his side.

“So you said you were married?” Hisashi asked, probing for information.

“Mhm, my husband’s name is Hizashi. He’s kind, if a bit much sometimes.” That was an understatement, Present Mic was one of the most obnoxious heroes in the public eye, right after All Might in Hisashi’s books. More awkward silence, and then:

“So Hisashi, what is it exactly that you do for a living?”

He blinked, “Oh, I’m a quirk analyst,” a lie, though quirk analysis was a pivotal part of his job, it had to be with his quirk, “I’ve just always found them interesting. It’s like how inventors feel about electronics, I just can’t help but want to pull them apart and see how they work.” Hisashi’s grin turned almost predatory at that, and Aizawa tensed. “The first quirk I ever analyzed was a neon quirk, the holder’s sweat glowed in the dark, they were like a walking, talking glow stick.”

Hisashi rambled about quirks for a while (this was the first he’d spoken so much in a long time and the words seemed to gush out of him, like he had to pay some sort of deficit), and Aizawa eventually cut him off, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “You know, you remind me of one of my students, he’s just as obsessed with quirks as you are.”

He visibly perked up at that, “Really? It’s rare to find someone who shares my interest, most find it creepy.”

The underground hero nodded, then glanced at the clock, “I should probably get going, my students have already left and I’m expected at the police precinct soon.”

Hisashi nodded, reaching to take a sip of his espresso but finding it already drained, “This was fun, even if it didn’t go anywhere,” perhaps this night could be salvaged and still give him some sort of in, “Would you like to catch a drink again some time?”

“No.”

-@~*^*~@-

His next date was considerably more disastrous than the first. He had matched with a young woman named Iwata Setsuko. His date in question had admittedly plain features, was a single mother with three children, and looked chronically stressed. She had taken time off from her crammed schedule to have dinner with him at a small Italian restaurant. The restaurant was small, quiet, and made to resemble a courtyard in an Italian villa. At the moment, she sat across from him in the cramped restaurant, honey eyes nervously peering at him from a veil of straight mousy brown hair. Iwata worked as a nurse practitioner in a nearby hospital, and seemed impressed by his extensive medical knowledge. She presumed him to be a doctor of some sort, and while inaccurate he could become one easily with a few forged documents if this proved fruitful.

Throughout the meal, she hardly spoke, leaving him to fill the silence with spun tales and falsehoods. He was telling her a particularly interesting anecdote about South Korea when she abruptly cut him off, “You’ve been lying to me all night.” Fuck.

Hisashi tried to laugh it off, “Now what reason would I have to lie to you?”

“My quirk allows me to read the vital signs of anyone close to me, I don’t know why you’d lie but I can tell you’re full of it.”

His eyes widened, “That’s a rather interesting quirk you have, it’s certainly perfect for your field-”

“Oh shove it, I know you’re deflecting,” She dismissed, a fire lit in her eyes that was previously absent.

He felt something flutter in his chest, he liked a woman with spark, it’s why he’d married Inko after all, and he couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities and applications her quirk had, and how helpful it could be for his goals. So caught up in his fantasies of world domination, was he, that he ignored whatever was coming out of her mouth. It probably was as helpful as white noise, as most mundane people’s words were, “You’re one of the only ones whose ever seen right through me,” he said with a widening grin.

“What?” She replied, confused.

“You know, with you at my side, we could have everything you can dream of! Think of the possibilities as the world crumbles at our feet-!”

He was cut off by Iwata, who was shoving breadsticks into her purse, “Look, it’s been fun but I have to go, my kids are waiting for me at home.”

“Think about my offer, you have my number!” he shouted to her as she rushed out the door, he glanced down at her plate, “She didn’t even finish her meal either.”

Iwata never got back to him, and All for One, dark lord of the criminal underground, was ghosted.

-@~*^*~@-

After another series of failed dates, Hisashi was slumped over a bar as Kurogiri, the noumu he had broken out of Tartarus for this sole purpose, awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Uh there, there?” he said.

Clearly, this online dating thing was not working, “I don’t even know why I try!” All for One proclaimed dejectedly, “Clearly the public cannot handle their awe of me.”

If Kurogiri had a face beyond a pair of glowing yellow eyes, he would have winced, “Right, well, sir, if it’s my place to give you advice I’d like to do so.”

Hisashi gestured vaguely with his hands, indicating that the sentient black mist should continue.

“Why don’t you go back to what you had before, you were married were you not?” Kurogiri suggested, “Surely it can’t be that hard.”

The supervillain lifted his head from the table, looking as if Kurogiri had just handed him the world, “You know what, you’re right, why don’t I re-enter their lives? They’re mine after all.” All for One stood up, a little drunk, “Kurogiri, if you had a mouth, I could kiss you.”

“Please don’t, sir.”

A few hours later, at some ungodly time in the night, Hisashi was standing outside of the Midoriya apartment, boom box perched on his shoulder, blasting romance music like he was in a shitty 90s romcom. He was oblivious to the lights that began to turn on in windows up and down the street. Using a quirk to artificially project his voice, he shouted, “Inko baby, take me back, I’ll be better I promise!”

Soon he saw an uncharacteristically glaring, plump face in the window. Inko popped it open, slipper in hand, “Hisashi, I swear to god, if you don’t leave right now I’m calling the police, do you know what time it is?!”

“Time doesn’t matter in the face of love,” he replied, “Inko I-” Hisashi was cut off as a slipper hit him square in the face.

A/N: I hope this at least got you all to laugh, feel free to leave a comment! Happy holidays everyone, I should have the next chapter of Genesis posted on Monday.

AO3

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mysteira6 · 4 years ago

Text

FukaFlower - Visiting You

Summary:

Requested by Lil-flowie (on Wattpad).

Casting aside his fear to visit her… was a lot harder than he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prompt: “Flower gets hurt and is in the hospital. Fukase is worried for her.”

Hey there! It’s been a while. I still heckin love these two so don’t think that I’m gonna stop making these for a LONG time~ :3

Special one-shot this time because this was a request from my book on Wattpad! Hope you enjoy. ^^

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“She’s in room 17,”

He quickly nodded once in thanks. “Thanks,” He replied gratefully before turning away from the receptionist and looking back at the hallway. White-clad nurses typing away on wheelie monitors littered the hallway, along with the occasional visitor walking back and forth between visiting their loved ones and chatting with other doctors. The sterile scent in the room conjured images of medicine and machinery in his mind, almost coercing him to shrink into the size of a ball, curled up and shivering on the floor.

Fukase hated hospitals. He didn’t want to have a reason to visit such a place that reminded him too much of what he had been through. By instinct, his left hand swiftly raised to touch his face, his bandaged fingers swiping against the grooves along his cheeks.

Come on, Fukase. Stop thinking about that. You’re here to visit the one you love, not to mull over your… stuff.

After giving himself a solid nod of confidence, the red-haired boy began to make his way down the hall, his crimson eyes looking out for the double-digit label that indicated which room his partner was staying at. It wasn’t too long before he found it, standing before the door as if waiting to be let in.

He held tightly to the bag in his right hand, the antiseptic scent still annoying him. Here goes nothing.

A turn of the doorknob later and the boy walked into a small room with walls of beige, satin blue furniture consisting of a sofa and visitor chairs aligned neatly against each wall while a longer bed sat in the middle of it all. Laying on said bed and tucked behind pearl-coloured sheets was a petite figure with gorgeous violet eyes, her smooth curls of white moving along with a strand of black hair as she turned towards her visitor. It wasn’t long before a small smile adorned her face, and Fukase found it very difficult to turn away from her upon seeing her beautiful smile.

“Fukase!” She murmured gleefully, and though she tried to step out of bed to greet him properly, the girl was reminded of her slight impairment when she felt a sharp twinge from her right arm, the thick plaster cast wrapped around her forearm reminding her not to move too much to agitate her wound. With a heavy sigh to herself, she eventually shifted back to her original position, only watching as the redheaded boy quickly trotted to her side, dragging a visitor’s chair with him as he placed his paper bag on the bedside table.

“Hey Flo,” He started, heart still fluttering at the sight of his partner’s pure expression. “How are you?” He was internally praying that the unease in his head had not leaked out into the tone of his voice.

“Alright, I guess,” The patient in question replied, motioning to her cast. “I just don’t know why my manager made me stay in the hospital for a hairline fracture on my arm. I’m pretty sure Xin Hua and you can take care of me fine,”

Fukase felt his cheeks heat up at the comment. He did like taking care of her when she was sick, after all. “I’m sure they just don’t want their ‘superstar’ singer to get hurt a second time. Besides, they did mention that your treatment would be covered by them,”

“But the food here is so plain,” She protested, a pout forming on her lips. “I’d rather just make my own food at home, even if I’m gonna feel pain throughout the whole thing-”

“Now that’s when I gotta stop ya, Petals,” The redhead’s tone deepened as he continued. “You know what your doctor would say; don’t move that cast around too much or it’s gonna stay there forever,”

She huffed impatiently. “Okay, I guess you got a point, but it’s still pretty boring around here-”

She was cut off by a jovial laugh coming from the boy now sitting next to her, accompanied by the sight of a familiar marshmallow coloured doll popping out of his paper bag, soon stumbling out of the bag and hopping onto her bed, taking a seat next to her lying figure as Fukase’s laugh slowly died out. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” He asked cheerfully with a smirk on his face.

The girl’s cheeks turned satin pink. What was she thinking? Here, she was being visited by her loving and kind boyfriend and all she was doing was complaining to him. Some partner she was.

Hoping to ameliorate the situation, she smiled warmly at him. “Thanks for visiting,” She softly spoke, giving another smile to the little doll by her left hand, who had been patiently waiting for her to acknowledge its presence. “I know you’re pretty busy and all,”

Fukase let out a small chuckle. “Hah. If by ‘busy’, you mean that I have to handle being teased all day by the Kagamine twins about ‘my girl’ being in the hospital, then yeah, I guess I have been a little busy,”

Flower narrowed her eyes, speechless. Ever since she started dating Fukase, it seemed that those 14-year-olds’ attacks on them would never stop, not even when they were not seen together in public. Sometimes, the snow-haired teen wondered if they liked it when her defensive boyfriend would come running after those gremlins after they let out a few teasing words to them.

In reality, as his girlfriend chuckled to herself (he assumed that she was chuckling about his comment about the Kagamine twins), Fukase could slowly feel a lump slowly forming in his throat. It was this room, he realised; this room was far too familiar to him. The pale walls closing in on his figure, that damn sterile scent of surgical masks and IV drips wafting through his nose, the chilly air that blew by from the vent on the floor, sweeping across his skin and forming trails of goosebumps all over him-

It was probably a miracle that he hadn’t completely succumbed to his memories, that he hadn’t shriveled into the size of a ball while sitting on the hospital chair, that he had not started shaking while reaching out to hold Flower’s left hand that wasn’t wrapped in a cast-

Left hand.

It was… her left hand.

Left hand…

Left hand.

Left hand. Left hand. Left. Left. Left. Left. Left left left left-

“Fukase?”

Her distinctive, powerful voice sent him straight back to reality, his eyes blinking once, twice, before looking over to the person who had called his name. In his mindscape, those words kept repeating themselves, the noises of his past ringing in his ears despite the fact that she pierced through it all with her own voice. Only when he noticed the expression in her violet-hued irises did he realise why she called him.

She had noticed him. Noticed him experiencing a flashback. The redhead felt ashamed.

“You know, I’d ask if you’re okay,” She said sombrely, breaking the momentary silence between the both of them. “But knowing you, I kinda have an idea of how you’d respond. And if I’m right, it’s not really a good thing…” She added, drooping her head a little.

“Flo, I-”

“I know. You don’t like hospitals, right?” The moment she said that was when the boy on the chair finally gave in to the fear creeping on his back, his arms wrapping themselves around his chest as if shielding himself from an attacking foe. Though he kept his gaze on her, Flower knew that he wasn’t really ‘okay’ with this.

“I figured as much,” She sighed softly, hoping that he wouldn’t hear her. “I’m really sorry that I had to burden you to visit me while I’m here, Fukase,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Flower,” He hastily replied, though the slight falsetto in his voice spoke volumes of what was going through his head. “I mean, it’s not like you made the accident happen,”

“Yeah, but still,” Seeing her lover look at her with fearful eyes so different from his usual gaze made Flower curse at her predicament; all she wanted to do was to step out of bed and hold the boy in her embrace. Just like last time.

Instead, she only muttered. “If I had been more careful…”

“ … Even if you had, there’s no telling what else could have happened,”

Flower didn’t respond to that, only looking down at her arm wrapped in white, silently cursing at it until she heard the sound of a chair shifting closer to her bed. A quick turn presented her with the sight of the scarred-face boy having his face petted by the living doll from before, its chubby hands threading through the plastic barrier of the hospital bed and patting the human boy’s cheeks as if to make a funny face out of it.

Had Flower not known that this little doll, Point, was sort of a parental figure to her boyfriend, she would have been merely amused at this silly sight.

But since Flower did know about Point, she also could tell that Fukase was really trying to get over his trauma just to make her smile. It was a common trait between the two of them; whenever Fukase had the urge to make anyone happy, he’d usually perform humorous antics with that little white doll. Likewise, in the moments when he was the most vulnerable emotionally, Point would be there to remind Fukase that he was not alone in the world anymore. That he now had someone else to talk to when his mind was a mess.

After their mini-episode of making funny faces in front of her (and inciting a little giggle from her), the red-haired boy sported a small smile, the fear from earlier mostly dissipated from his eyes.

“Flower…” He started, leaning his head against the fencing by the hospital bed, the light from the windows reflecting off of his scarlet eyes. “You know you’re really important to me, right?”

“Y-yeah?”

“So… Don’t worry about me being afraid of… this place…” He slowly declared, his voice building up confidence as he went on. “I know I tend to be dramatic about it, but I promise you; I’ll be okay,”

“Are you sure?” The hesitation in her tone convinced Fukase to up his determination in his reply. “Yeah. I’m not trying to trick you this time; I’ll be fine,”

“Besides, seeing you and having you next to me…” As much as he tried to hide it, the red on his cheeks was obvious. “It helps me deal with the memory, so… don’t be too worried about me, alright?”

‘Seeing you and having you next to me’

They were such simple words and yet… Those alone were enough to wash all of the white-haired girl worries away.

“Oh! That reminds me,” The young boy stood up suddenly, turning to the paper bag he brought with him and pulling out a petite white box with a handle by the top. “Here, I got you something. And don’t worry, I asked Xin Hua about what you couldn’t eat, and this doesn’t qualify as any of your prohibited foods,”

As Fukase placed the box in front of her, he steadily undid the box’s paper lock, revealing a single triangular slice of vanilla cake, its three layers stuck together by white icing filled with red slices of fruit while the top layer was completely covered with another layer of white and three white rosettes. The singular conical red item placed on the top of the cake was the last thing Flower needed to identify what kind of treat her boyfriend had bought for her.

“A strawberry cake,” She noted without any traces of astonishment in her voice. “Why am I not surprised?” Though she was shaking her head, there was a pensive smile inscribed on her lips.

“Oh, well if you don’t want it, more for me-”

“What, no! Of course I want it!”

“Oh, really?” A mischievous grin found its way to the cheeky redhead’s lips as he spoke. “Judging by the look on your face, I was starting to think that you didn’t like it. Or am I wrong?”

His girlfriend was about to facepalm herself with her right hand until she felt a tinge of pain that signalled her to use her left one instead. “You’re ridiculous. You wouldn’t buy that for me and bring it here if you thought that I wouldn’t want it, would you?”

“So you’re saying that I’m a good boyfriend?”

The girl paused, though it didn’t take too much pondering before she arrived at a conclusion. Between him mustering his guts to visit a hospital, the hotspot of his trauma, and pushing aside that trauma to admit how much she meant to him, Flower was convinced that this time, Fukase’s passing joke was true.

Knowing that, she heaved a relaxed sigh, reaching out to touch his bandaged hand briefly. The sudden contact cued him to glance at her, taking in the bright smile that adorned her face. “Yeah,” Flower murmured sweetly. “I think you are. A good boyfriend, I mean,”

Her cheeks turned satin pink as she added the last part of her sentence, an unusually bashful smile slowly creeping up her lips. The redhead could only look on at her, frozen and unmoving, only taking in how adorable she looked under the rays of sunlight seeping through the windows of the ward.

There was no way to stop Fukase from chuckling light-heartedly. “Wow,” He muttered, breathless. “I… didn’t think you’d actually say something so sappy,”

The girl shrugged. “Maybe it’s my meds?” She sheepishly teased. “I guess I’m just feeling a little… affectionate today,”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Fukase teased back with a smirk. “Seeing you trying to flirt is cute too,” Flower didn’t have any time to respond to that before Fukase turned his whole body to the patient lying on the bed, a white plate containing the vanilla-coloured slice of spongy cake in one hand while his other gripped tightly onto a small fork. “Seriously though, you want this cake?”

She beamed at the prospect of eating something sweet. “Of course,”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the rest of the afternoon, the two teens stayed in that hospital room, sharing bites of a dessert that they both loved. Still, the sweetness from the delicious cake was nothing compared to their relationship.

A gentle, tender bond that was supported by their endless love and support for each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They... They be cute... QwQ

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