#i can't wait for all the AUs that will be born out of that picture

[rantingravingliving]

yeah.

right. right.

you can't be cute now, you tailor of chaos!

[inktopuck]

juno | quinn hughes social media au (pt.7)

pt.6

_quinnhughes

Liked by elblue6, yournamehughes and others

_quinnhughes mornings at home

colecaufield HOW IS SHE THIS BIG ALREADY

yournamehughes we give her fertilizer and water

l_hughes06 when quinn finally let you be the small spoon @yournamehughes

yournamehughes he chose rock instead of scissors

l_hughes06 classic quinn L

jackhughes how did you even get this picture

yournamelastname luke is staying in the guest bedroom and thought it would be cute to wake us up by jumping on our bed and getting this

jackhughes luke are you fucking 4

l_hughes06 i'm a 9 on a good day

matthew_tkachuk that bedhead is giving me baby fever

trevorzegras real, might have to start procreating too

_quinnhughes please don't

yournamehughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes and others

yournamehughes the hughes pout lives on

colecaufield genetics really got her good

jackhughes y/n please let me babysit please

yournamehughes why don't you ask your brother???

jackhughes he has a vendetta against me and you're the cool one

_quinnhughes you said she looked like a rat when she was born

yournamehughes in all fairness newborns do look like rats, quinn

_quinnhughes not ours!!!!

eliaspettersson this is the face he pulls when he gets to practice because he just wants to be with her 24/7

yournamehughes my heart 😭

trevorzegras the side eye has been mastered as well

jackhughes

Liked by elblue6, nicohischier and others

jackhughes WOOOOOOOOOOO #bellytime

yournamehughes PLEASE go slow and PLEASE be careful or i swear to god i will hunt you down and remove your hair follicle by follicle

jackhughes leave my hair out of this

trevorzegras meowwww momma bear get him

_quinnhughes dude bears do not say meow what did they teach you in kindergarten

l_hughes06 those sunglasses are hideous

jackhughes you're only saying that because i beat you to buying them

l_hughes06 false, they're fugly

jackhughes you're fugly

alexturcotte didn't you use to drive cole around like this

colecaufield oh my god we get it i'm small move on

yournamehughes

Liked by _quinnhughes, l_hughes06 and others

yournamehughes so it starts 😮‍💨 #hockeymom

_quinnhughes i love her so much

elblue06 little bit of a full circle moment ❤️

yournamehughes i am so glad she had you to teach her how to skate ❤️

elblue6 are you kidding me? i wasn't about to let my boys take the wheel on that, have you seen how much they fall on the ice 😫

jackhughes mom what the fuck 😭😭

elblue6 don't swear at me young man

jackhughes sorry mom

l_hughes06 tell her her godfather is very proud of her

bboeser belly is coming in today? YAY

_quinnhughes you're never this excited to see me

bboeser you're not a cute kid

eliaspettersson AHHHH BELLS!!! i got swedish candy in my stall

_quinnhughes no candy before dinner

eliaspettersson shut up old man

canucks we can't wait to see Isabel crush the old guys! #bellytime

pt.8

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

CoD!Widow AUs make me cry and I love it

Like imagine being married to Price, and he dies in action.

The guys only find out he's married because as they are waiting for evac, they know he won't make it. The silence is thick as he goes into his chest pocket and pulls out a polaroid of his wife that he's kept hidden for for the past two years. It's a picture of them eloping at the courthouse, posed in front of the courthouse steps. She's got on a short white wedding dress, and he's dipping her back in a classic romantic kiss.

The next polaroid he shows them with shaky hands is of her and a little baby boy, and he has their captain's eyes and her smile and a head full of curls. John tells them they named him John Jr., but he's affectionately called JoJo.

John tells them that he was going to invite them all home for the leave after this mission, the Wife's been begging to meet them all says, "Who are you to deprive JoJo of his uncle's? They can keep their mouths shut about us." But now he's sad because he's dying, and he should have listened to her, and he won't get to see either his wife or JoJo meet his boys for the first time.

John makes Simon, Kyle, and Johnny swear on taking care of his wife and son. He was all they had. He wants them to hug her tight, always send her flowers, she likes pink garden roses the most, but is just as happy with any flower. He tells them that her favorite holiday is Christmas, and since JoJo was born, John has always dressed up as Santa so the boy could sneak downstairs and 'catch him' setting out presents. They are a colored lights on the tree and stockings above the fireplace kind of family, hot cocoa with whipped cream with sprinkles, not marshmallows type of family. Snow days spent making snow angels and snowmen type of family.

In the end, he just tells them to make sure his little family knows he loves them and let his wife know he wasn't alone when he took his last breath. That was always her biggest fear, him dying in the field alone.

It's actually Kyle that is able to bring himself to knock on the red front door to the sweet little country side house. The home is perfect it looks like it is big enough for a family of at least five. There's an apple tree out front, the grass is manicured, and there are well-kept and well loved flower boxes on the windows.

Kyle feels sick to his stomach, and he doesn't want to be holding his Captain’s hat, dog tags, and under it, the British flag. He's the one that does it because Johnny can't form words because he spent the previous night crying so badly he lost his voice, and Simon has been at his worst with shutting down, he hasn't even taken off the gloves and mask he was wearing since they still had Captain’s blood and scent on them, Kyle suspects he's still in shock. Kyle is the only one even halfway put together out of three to speak with their Captain’s Widow.

The front door opens, and it's her. She's wearing a pink apron, a smudge of cake batter on her cheek, and on her hip is Jojo. Kyle could have choked and died when he noticed the small bump in her middle. It's clear that Captain didn't know, or else he would have said something about this, too.

Her eyes are bright for a second as she swings open the front door, "Finally he lets you off base" She goes to laugh but that sound dies in her throat when she sees what he's holding. Kyle watches as the light dims in her eyes and her smile slowly drops.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Price." Is all he's saying before she's wailing in heartache.

Part 2

[judasgot-it]

Soulmate AU

"I can't believe you said that. You know that's going to be on my chest for the rest of my life now, right?"

Scenario: You and your soulmate meet. It's hard convincing yourselves that it's a good thing.

I'm timeskipping a bit, think of this as a sort of slowburn lol.

8,700 k words (jesus crhist)

Every person had spots on their body that marked the things that showed what their soulmate did that day.

Typically, they appeared at the age of five. Usually, they would be words and sentences, or pictures, sometimes depicting ideas. It was representative of what their soulmate was like - sometimes they were in different languages, or had patterns that only their soulmate could discern.

There was always one mark that would appear, and stay on the body for what was usually for the rest of someone's life. Sometimes small, sometimes big.

Some people were born with theirs. Others had theirs appear at the end of their life. They were rather random, it seemed.

Yours was strange. It wasn't a picture, and it wasn't a poem. It wasn't a sentence, and it wasn't anything compared to your family or classmates. When you were twelve, you had gained a large pattern on your back - something that if you reached around, you could feel mostly with your fingers.

If you squinted, you could maybe see it, but it seemed invisible.

Your mother had told you that it was almost like a scar, but it wasn't ugly. There was a pattern, but no one seemed to really know what it meant.

It was hard to really know what it was from looking at it in the mirror. To you, it looked like just a splattering of lighter and darker skin, now slightly raised in some areas. It was only visible in the light, and looked like you had splashed bleach on your skin.

All you knew was that it hadn't gone away in weeks. The doctor had said that it was most likely one of those marks that lived forever, and was possibly a sign that your soulmate was blind. Either that or some sort of fucked up artist.

It had left you angry for months. You didn't know why, but it upset you - maybe because you had expected a poem that would tell you how much you were adored, like your friend had. Or cute portrait, of some beautiful vacation spot.

You still wanted to dream. But instead, you got something had you scratching your back like a madman, trying to understand something that you couldn't. It left you impatient, trying to understand a puzzle that apparently, only a blind man or an asshole could solve.

Maybe both.

When you met your soulmate, you were going to slap the shit out of him.

-

At sixteen, you had debated on whether or not your soulmate was worth 'waiting for' or 'finding'. There was a big debate going on for decades anyway - was it worth falling in love with your soulmate?

Part of you wanted to try falling in love with someone else. Maybe it was because you had seen soulmates who hated each other - they had words permanently etched onto their bodies that said:

"I hate you" and "I hope that you die"

Seemed like proof enough that it was fake.

Your own soulmate seemed less like a real concept, and more like a cloud in the sky. There were never pictures of his day, or that many words to hear about. It was only feelings - there were cuts that had showed up along your skin, long lines that were in concerning places.

Once you had one show up along your chest, underneath your breast. You weren't sure if it would work, but you had written "Stay alive" and hoped it would show up along his skin. You wrote it in Sharpie and kept it there for days, just in case he needed the reminder.

He never seemed to have any words back. The only words you ever read on your skin were concerning. Once, words had shown up along your arm, written in a messy cursive, almost impossible to read:

"Go ahead and kill yourself. I don't need you anyway."

That started to convince you that your soulmate might have deserved the knife in the chest.

Despite this, you could never bring yourself to go past a second date. None of the guys who asked you out seemed to really 'click' in the way you really thought you would.

One of them was so bad, you had taken the Sharpie out and had added "I love you" close to where you remember adding the line.

If your soulmate really was blind, it was most likely a stupid thing to write - if it even showed up. But it made you feel better in the moment, so what was the harm?

-

When you were in your 20s, you had graduated university.

You didn't know what your soulmate was doing, but you had started to care less than you did when you were younger.

Before, it tore at you - there were a lot of dreams and ideas you had of what he was like, and what it would be like when you finally met the one person made for you.

Over time, you learned to accept that there was a chance you might not ever meet him. You knew people like that - those whose soulmates died, and those who never had them. Those who had met them late in life, and were still living good lives.

You had become content. In a way, your life had become better, knowing that you didn't need someone else there in order to live your own life.

There were friends you had. And you had an apartment. And now, you had a new job, one that was respectable and you had worked hard for. Life was looking up.

Part of you was convinced that your soulmate was either dead or still living a life that would lead to it. The marks that showed up were the same as when you were sixteen - they were lesser than before, but they were still scary when they did show up.

There were more words now as well. Something changed, as they were more positive.

"Stay behind me, I'll protect you."

That was one that had shown up today. Along your inner thigh, making you glad you wore shorts today.

Maybe he wasn't in a gang but was just a cop with a bad attitude. Unfortunately, your soulmate had never said his name, and you had no clues as to how to find him.

-

This job was great. But god, the military really couldn't keep a damn thing organized.

You might be the only person who knew where anything was at this point. Which left you carrying several boxes of confidential files to the office of Ouchi Fukuchi directly, because no one else knew where to find the paperwork that was needed.

He was also three months behind on all of it. Which was fine, it was only a matter of national security, after all. It wasn't an important thing, really. Who cared?

You weren't stressed about it at all.

"Do you need help?" A voice filtered through the elevator, and you almost cried with relief. The boxes were heavy, and based on the man's voice, he sounded like someone who actually could handle carrying them.

Unlike you at the moment, who was using every last bit of strength you had in order to keep them from spilling all over the carpet at the moment.

You worked at a desk. This was more lifting in a day than you did a year. Yes, of course you could use some help. Obviously.

"Yes. Can you push the number for Mr. Fukuchi's office? And also grab one of these boxes? If you aren't busy."

You were praying that he wasn't busy. Those few seconds as you waited felt like hell, but eventually you felt the man's hands touch your own, taking the boxes from your arms and relieving the agonizing weight from your spine.

Sighing, you leaned against the elevator door, feeling how it slowly lifted up to the highest story. Slowly, because despite appearances, the Hunting Dogs headquarters had disgustingly slow elevators despite the million-dollar planes they had parked in the vicinity.

The stairs might have been faster, honestly.

You could also have avoided the man's staring - the brunette was tall, and he glanced at your exposed skin as if you were naked. You turned to the doors, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you, know your soulmate?"

The man was blunt, his honey eyes staring directly at your wrist. He was holding the boxes as if they weighed nothing, and watching him made your back hurt more. What did they feed those military guys?

"No, I don't. Sorry, I know it's nasty. I feel bad for whoever Tecchou is, he doesn't seem to get along with him."

You tried to laugh it off, looking down at your wrist. Right there, you could see what your soulmate had said today, in the same messy cursive he always spoke in:

"Go to hell Tecchou, your food is always shit and I hope you die."

It had only shown up right when you had to go and deliver the files. Because of course it did - your soulmate really had to embarrass you like that in front of everyone.

You remembered when you were twelve you said you would smack the shit out of him. Maybe you would still do that, because right now it felt embarrassing to be stared at like that.

It wasn't your fault your soulmate had such a foul mouth.

Now you were going to meet the leader of the Hunting Dogs, and he was going to see what an embarrassment of a soulmate you had.

Thank god it wasn't on your forehead, at least.

The doors of the elevator opened, and you tried to keep your body straight and rigid, waiting for a greeting from Fukuchi himself. You watched the brunette walk in with the files, straight to the front of the desk as if it were habit.

You followed behind him, hoping you made a good impression.

"Ouchi Fukuchi! I am-"

Before you could finish your greeting, the man held a hand towards you.

"Tecchou, didn't I tell you to take a walk?" The older man was stern, and you stayed silent in hopes that he didn't turn his cold gaze towards you.

"...She looked like she was struggling." His voice was deep and monotone, and he looked almost bored from behind the stack of files he was hiding behind.

"So you decided to be an errand boy?"

"Yes."

There was a silence. You couldn't tell what was going on between the two men, but you were terrified. The look Fukuchi gave was terrifying, worse than was portrayed in the films you had seen before - he was scarier in person. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to kill the man with his eyes.

"Sir, if I may add. They are very heavy, and I appreciated the help a lot."

You didn't know what came over you. Both men looked at you, and it had you putting your arms and head down, praying that the floor would eat you.

Fuck. You just needed to deliver the files and just go back to your office. You didn't even work for the Hunting Dogs, you worked for a completely different part of the government. This wasn't your business to get into.

"Sorry. Um...Those files, there is a file on top about their contents. They are to be completed and sent out ASAP. Requested by the prime minister. Apologies."

Your voice was firm, despite the sweat that was collecting on your palms. Without looking at anyone or anything, you nodded at the men and walked out, pressing the button for the ground floor several times.

This was terrifying.

-

The Hunting Dogs were hunting you. Ironic, but you now had one of them showing up at your office, wanting to 'talk' - what was there to even talk about?

You had only been there for maybe ten minutes at most, like, a week ago. If something happened in that facility, you had no part in it.

If you could, you would hide underneath your desk forever. But that most likely made them think you were guilty of whatever crime they suspected you of, and you did not want to seem like a criminal to them.

Their investigation tactics were more than infamous. You did not want to become another horror story.

Steeling yourself, you walked out, bracing for the inevitable interrogation that was about to follow. The man that was waiting for you was standing with a little girl - you vaguely remembered her as the vice-captain, although the man you couldn't really place his name.

His two-toned hair seemed familiar though. You might have seen it on a photograph before, when you were told about the group in a discussion about how lazy they were with paperwork. His closed eyes seemed strange, but tried to avoid them.

The man smiled at you, and it seemed more calculating than warm and friendly. The girl, someone you remembered to be known for her combat skills, didn't seem to be interested. She only blinked at you, bored at your office outfit.

You had to convince him that you were innocent. Of whatever it was that they had thought you were guilty of.

"So. Trying to get all pretty for me?"

The man was grinning, and you didn't know what to say. He had taken a step closer, and out tried to stay as still as possible, slowing your breathing.

If it was fight or flight, you chose freeze.

Keeping your face calm was hard, but you paused your breaths, trying your best to keep your body as cool as possible as the two didn't state why it was urgent that they speak to you. In the middle of your work day.

"Um. Is there a reason why you guys asked to see me?"

You were staring at the daisy-haired man's forehead, praying that he didn't notice that you were trying your hardest to not make eye contact with him.

"Did you deliver files to Fukuchi?"

The girl was bored, rocking her feet back and forth, slapping the man next to her with her ponytail.

"Um. Yes. I did."

"And did you meet a man named Tecchou Suehiro while you were there?"

"The brunette?"

"Yes. And tall, with three stupid tattoos under his eyes. Did you meet him?"

"I believe so, yes. He helped me carry the files to Mr. Fukuchi's office."

"What did your arm say that day?"

That was an odd question. That wouldn't have something to do with any sort of crime, would it? Or were you not thinking straight?

"Oh. Something about killing a man named Tecchou."

It felt like a pause button had been pressed at that moment.

Tecchou was an uncommon name. And Fukuchi had certainly called that man in the elevator by that name as well. How could you have missed that detail?

"...Why are you asking me about that?"

Tecchou had asked about the mark too, now that you had thought of it.

"Did my soulmate kill him?"

Either that, or Tecchou had killed him, and this was how you were going to find out that your soulmate was dead. He was dead and gone before you had ever gotten to meet him. Just one of those tragic cases of a love that never got to happen.

You steeled yourself for the news, taking in a deep breath.

"Jouno your soulmate is stupid."

The girl walked away, huffing and shaking her head. The man in front of you, Jouno, clapped your shoulder, breathing out a sigh.

"Tecchou is still alive. Unfortunatly."

The man's eyes hadn't opened to look at you, staying closed as he struggled to find the words. He was in your space, and you could taste how he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say.

Somehow, he was still smiling through the awkwardness, but you had started to realize-

He was blind. And your soulmate.

Your soulmate was always blind.

The strange spot on your back made more sense now. It wasn't some stupid art piece, but most certainly something he felt because he was blind.

"-I don't think I need to say anything. You know."

The man gave up on forming sentences, instead choosing to rub your shoulder and smile.

"Um. Yeah."

You spent nearly twenty years waiting to meet this man, and this is all you had to say? Wasn't there something more?

"Um. Shouldn't we do something?" His hand was still on you, and you didn't know if you should tell him to let go or not. This was the first time you had ever met, and frankly - you actually liked it a little bit. He was warm, and he didn't give you a weird feeling compared to some other people.

"Do what?"

"I don't know. We're soulmates. Shouldn't we like, have a moment?"

In the movies you had seen, there were soulmates who would meet and have a 'magical contact' moment. You couldn't look into his eyes and swoon, but surely he was having a magic moment right now? Wasn't he going to ask you on a date and try to live with you forever or something?

This should have been the start of...something.

"No. This is good enough. Honestly, I'd rather not see you again."

Or not.

His face didn't portray anything - he was still smiling, as if he was working at a front desk and not meeting his soulmate for the first time. You felt like you were looking into it, but surely he also wanted something more?

That smile couldn't be real.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's nothing with you, but it's probably best if we don't try to make this a thing."

He let go finally, and that shoulder felt cold as he stepped away. You didn't know what to say, watching as he slowly removed himself from the little bubble the two of you had.

There was magic, and there was no magic. It was a mirage, more like it.

"So. You just, wanted to meet me, I guess?"

"Just know that you're alive. And you are. Good for us."

Us. But there is no us, because there is no thing, apparently. Just a him, and now you had to suppose a you. A lonely, singular you.

"Sorry. Um. Yeah, okay. Then let's not talk. That's fine."

It wasn't. Or maybe it was. You didn't know what to think, because your soulmate, who you now knew was the Hunting Dog Jouno, had come and gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.

But you supposed that was the end of it. You met your soulmate, and you would never see him again.

So why were you about to cry?

-

Ever since that meeting, the universe had been playing tricks on you. Or whoever had deemed soulmates to be a thing.

Before, whatever Jouno had put onto your body was so abstract that you could barely understand it. Now it felt like he was playing tricks on you.

"If I die, I don't care."

It felt like he was playing a game. You had only met him once, but if he died, you would care.

You would care so much.

The petty part of you had taken to those high school days, grabbing your sharpie and writing little responses underneath those types of sentences.

"I care." and "I love you, stay safe." was something you had started to write over and over again on your body.

It likely didn't matter. He was blind. But if it ever showed up on his skin, you hoped someone on his team would see it.

Part of you wanted to write it on your forehead and neck, just to shame him. Maybe he didn't care, but you cared - he would have everyone know just how much his soulmate cares about him.

But you didn't want to wash that off. You also were sure that your concealer wasn't going to cover that up.

It would just make the both of you look stupid.

-

Your day was just going great.

Great. As in, you were stuck next to a shitty criminal, who was pulling at your nice dress and tearing the buttons along the back.

This was expensive.

God. What a dickhead.

And who was going to save you from this guy? He had some weird fucked up ability, and it was freaking you out.

You didn't really deal with that stuff.

This was a time when you chose to freeze again. You wanted to choose something else - to fight back and be brave, or to run, do something.

But you felt frozen. It was honestly hard to breathe, but that might have been from how your dress was pulling against your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Oh shit, it's the Hunting Dogs."

The guy next to you groaned, and you tried your hardest to disappear as you felt him tug and pull you around.

The gunshots were loud, and you were stuck choosing between covering your ears and pulling against your dress as the man tried to choke you with it.

You chose your ears, in the end. However many gunshots he fired, you didn't count, instead trying your best to become a ball. One that would be unmovable, immune to the hellfire that was happening.

Maybe if you became deadweight, he would drop you and run away. He had no reason for you, right?

You didn't know why he chose to use you as a distraction anyway. This was your day off, couldn't he have chosen any other person?

"Goddammit, I said get up!"

The man pulled at your hair, and you screamed. As much as you fought back, clawing at his arms, he started to drag you away from his little spot in the building, to the open area where you could see a whole crowd had gathered.

It was hard to see if any of the Hunting Dogs were actually there, as you could only focus on the pain you were in.

Weren't they going to do their jobs? What the fuck was taking so long.

This felt like it was taking forever. This guy was tugging you around, and talking about something that you couldn't even bring yourself to care about. It was something that a man who would try to blow up a building would say - they're spying on us, they're killing us, they made it all up. Whoever they are, and whoever the us is. It didn't matter, because now your day was ruined.

Maybe you were pathetic, still trying to fight back. The guy seemed ridiculously strong.

"Run."

The word was whispered to you, in a soft voice and with a gentle hand on your back. It might have only been a second - but the moment the grip loosened on your hair, you took the moment to run.

God knows where. But you ran. It might have been the fastest you had ever been in your life, if you were being honest with yourself.

You were just glad the nightmare was over.

-

Ever since that...event. You haven't had a good dream since.

It was hard too. You would wake up to the violent hair pulling, the smells, and there would be that voice at the end each time.

You would be crying, and each time the voice would say something different. In real life, all he had said was "Run" but in your dreams, he said rather sweet things.

They were things that frankly, you had wanted to hear. He had a gentle voice for a man, and it was hard to believe that it was the same voice as your soulmate.

You kept pretending that it wasn't him. As time went on, you were more hurt by the words he said, you started to pretend that the voice you heard was just a different man you had conjured up.

Something you made while you were delirious with fear. And now he was haunting your dreams, because you were a lonely and loveless woman, who couldn't stop crying in her kitchen because she was scared of something that had already happened.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, and you just wanted to be over it. But for some reason, you were left sitting at the table again, forcing yourself to drink a glass of water and play through another round of solitaire.

The knocking on the door scared the shit out of you.

...

Another knock.

Fuck.

Gettting up, you stalked slowly to the door, hoping that the intruder to your miserable peace wouldn't hear your approach the door. You wanted to pretend you weren't there, even if it was obvious you were home.

Another knock.

Loud ones. Impatient ones.

"I know you're in there. Listen, I just need to talk to you real quick."

Peeping through the peephole, you saw him - Jouno, who was clad in a dandelion bedhead and grey sweatpants. His hoodie was a strange faded color, and you were sure it was old enough to be his father's.

Taking a moment, you breathed as you watched him. It was hard to believe he was standing there, actually at the front of your door.

At like what, two in the morning?

You opened the door a little bit, feeling the cold night air breeze by. It made you pull yourself closer together, as the shirt you wore barely covered you enough to protect you from the cold.

Thank god Jouno was blind at least. He would see a lot more than he bargained for, you imagined.

"...What do you want?" You wished you could have your voice sound firm, like an interrogator. But you could still hear the tears in your voice, and it made you want to hide in your bed like a mole dug into the dirt.

You sounded so lame.

"Listen. Let me in, real quick."

He was smiling, the same one that you saw when you first met him. Like a fucking customer service representative, trying to sell you something. At two in the morning.

"I'm not a booty call."

"No, what? Just let me inside-" You started to close the door, not caring for the force you used. He could handle it.

"Bring me flowers if you want to ask me for anything next time."

Jouno fought back easily, but was polite enough to stay between the door and the entryway. He only kept half of his body there to maintain conversation, allowing you the ability to slam the door on him if you so wished.

It was tempting, at that moment.

"I need you to listen. This isn't sex or anything."

"Can't you say it in the morning? Some people sleep."

That was a lie, but you weren't in the right mind to speak to him at that moment. He made you emotional - maybe his whole existence was making you feel too much, but that was likely heightened by the fact that you hadn't slept well for the last few nights.

"That's exactly it! You aren't sleeping. Now I can't sleep. So let me in, because I want to go to sleep-"

He pushed through your hold of the door. He had both let himself in, and you had let him.

"You're so selfish."

For some stupid reason, you had let him into your home and had already started to cry again. It had taken so long to calm down, and now you were starting the process all over again.

God, you were really starting to hate your soulmate for doing this to you.

"What? What's selfish about that?"

"You came here just so you could sleep. Why don't you figure out a way to go to sleep on your own!"

The words were spilling out of your mouth, and frankly whatever you said was not even registering in your brain.

All you knew was that you were feeling a lot at the moment. You hadn't felt like this since you were twelve and had the big mark show up on your back, making you mad for weeks.

Maybe you were still mad. And you were remembering it all just now.

Or maybe you were just really tired.

"I did try! I took enough melatonin to kill a man, but you won't let me sleep with your stupid nightmares!"

The man in front of you looked stressed, and you wanted to feel bad. But at the moment, your mind could only think of the worst words to say to him, to twist anything to try and hurt him.

You took a breath. A deep one, feeling how you were choking your brain from oxygen.

Why were you screaming at each other at two in the morning?

"Listen. I know PTSD is stressful, but you can find a way to cope with it, can't you?"

Jouno put his hands on your shoulders. He stepped into your space, and he was so close you could smell the coffee on his breath.

Maybe it wasn't you, but the caffeine he was drinking so goddamn late into the night.

"I don't have PTSD. I've never been to war."

"Then what is this then." He shook you, as if you were the stupid one here, despite walking over to someone's home in the middle of the night.

"Just something I need to get over."

That's something you had always been told. And you were sure it was something that would go away. Eventually.

"See. This is the problem. You don't even know how to deal with the problem you have. And now, I can't sleep."

The man didn't give you a chance to argue back. Before you could say anything, he hauled you onto his shoulder, his hand traveling along your back.

Desperately, you grabbed at his sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric and praying you wouldn't fall onto your face.

"Where's your bedroom? You're sleeping whether you want to or not."

Without caring to listen, he attempted to navigate your home anyway. It was a little entertaining, feeling how he turned his body in circles as he tried to figure out where to go.

"That's the wrong way. It's the other way. On the left."

You pitied him. If only a little bit.

-

"Is sleeping really that hard for you?"

Your bed wasn't small, but Jouno made it feel small with just his presence alone. His body was warmer than yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as you laid side by side, with a few fingers space between each other.

Now that you had though about it, you never had really made space for another person in your bed before. There really was only enough space for you.

"I have a strange man in my bed, can you blame me?"

"I'm your soulmate, I'm not just anyone."

Now he wanted to be something. When he wanted it to benefit him.

Maybe you were deeply bitter about the way he rejected ever wanting to be anything at all.

"You really are selfish, you know? You said you didn't want this to be a thing, but now you're going on about being my soulmate."

Because that meant something. It meant having an actual bond, a sort of relationship. This wasn't anything - at most, you had vague conversations, and now he was just a man in your bed who was upset at you for a stupid reason.

And you were mad at him. And you hoped he knew that.

"I wouldn't do this if I couldn't sleep. We're just...people who need each other."

His voice sounded off. As off as you could tell, as if he was lying, even to himself.

Why did he say these things if even he didn't believe them?

"Do I really need you?" You said the words only loud enough that the pillow could hear you, hoping that he had finally managed to go to sleep, or thought that you had.

But you felt him turn around, bouncing the bed and pulling at the blanket the two of you shared.

Of course he heard it somehow. What a freak.

"Clearly! You couldn't even save yourself. You're lucky I was there."

He was closer now, his voice nearly kissing your ears. You groaned, his volume too loud for your wallowing.

"That's your job, isn't it? To save people?"

Waving him off, you didn't bother to face him - like it would matter, when he couldn't even see you. Instead, you hugged the pillow in front of you closer, feeling how the cold fabric kissing your exposed skin.

It was rather cold for the summertime.

"...I didn't want to know you more, because I didn't want you to be hurt."

His breath tickled your neck, and somewhere along the bed you could feel his fingers dance along the fabric, far too close to your shoulders.

You didn't know him too well, but his touch didn't bother you as much as you wanted to pretend it did.

"How were you going to hurt me?"

"My job. I'm going to die, eventually. It'll be a miracle if I reach 40."

His voice was gentle, without the tone of an insurance agent. He sounded honest; speaking as if he really meant what he said.

It left you breathless, and you had to remind yourself that you needed to breathe in order to live.

"That doesn't mean anything. I would still like to know you when you're here."

There was a laugh behind you, a tired one. Maybe he was only saying these things because he was also exhausted.

A lack of sleep was worse than drugs, you had once heard before.

You couldn't even open your eyes anymore at this point. It was just your mind fighting you.

"That would be nice. But I'm not the best person, I would just make your life miserable. You're right, I am really selfish."

"I know. But I think you're worth it Jouno."

-

After that night, something felt different. Your body felt different.

For one thing, you now had Jouno's phone number. He had texted you, and told you to call him in case of emergencies only.

You had learned that meant when you couldn't couldn't sleep, he really couldn't sleep. And when you couldn't eat, he couldn't eat. and it was an emergency.

Maybe because he was blind, his soulbond appeared differently. It wasn't visual at all, but instead tormented him with your own physical sensations.

It had you wondering if he had ever felt your pain. Or felt anything else you felt.

It wasn't a conversation you were willing to have just yet. You had just started to feel comfortable texting and calling him.

Having him sleep in the same bed was as far as you two had gone, and it had only happened a few times after. He had shared meals with you as well, after you lost your appetite from a bad stomach bug.

It was a strange relationship you had formed. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get closer than you were.

Maybe you were ok with knowing him like this. Like a strange acquaintance, learning weird bits and pieces about him, with unanswered questions that you were too scared to ask.

He was your soulmate. Maybe he didn't need to be anything more than that.

-

"You know, because of you, I can't really go out shirtless anymore."

Jouno was relaxed against the table, bored as he played around with the food on his plate. Recently he wasn't able to each much at all, and you had stayed over for the last while.

But it didn't seem to have much to do with you. Right now you were stuffed, and it seemed like it was all on Jouno at the moment. He had only eaten a quarter of his plate, and you had considered feeding it to him like a child so he would eat more of it.

"Why?"

"Because. You put this on my chest."

Jouno leaned up from the table and forgot his food; taking off his cotton T-shirt, revealing what you had always believed would be there.

Two lines, right by a little ugly scar - "Stay safe, I love you."

They were a little close together, not a work of art by any means. Your handwriting on someone's skin looked...funny. Almost unreal. It looked blotched out, and it reminded you too well of how stupid you were as a teenager, tracing over the Sharpie over and over again, hoping your blind soulmate would see it.

"You're mad about it?"

"It looks like a shitty tattoo."

That was your one mark on him forever. And he called it a shitty tattoo. It wasn't like the stupid daily quotes and one-liners, it was forever.

God forbid you care about someone.

"...I thought you got stabbed." You didn't really see the point in getting hurt by what he said in anymore. This was just how Jouno was.

"Did you feel it?"

"Don't get excited! No! Weirdo!"

You kicked him from underneath the table, easily kicking at his long calves as they stuck out towards your space. Always your space, because he was a tall freak who loved to walk into the space of others, and yours was his favorite.

The man in front of you only giggled, playing footsie with his too-cold feet.

"I see it. Every time you get hurt, it shows up on my skin. You don't really give me pictures or colors. Sometimes I see sentences, but it's not enough. But I always know when you get hurt."

Which was true. You didn't have his scars, but you knew when they hurt. Because the little lines showed up.

"Not enough? Do you like hearing about my day?"

The man's voice sounded ecstatic, smiling as he trapped your feet between his own, almost in a handshake. Maybe he was playing with you, trying to flirt when he didn't mean it at all.

"I like it when you say positive things. It's not really common, you usually are threatening to kill people. It gets boring after a while."

You let him win, instead choosing to take a bite out of his uneaten food. It was right there, and you might as well take your chance, right?

"Well it did help me find you, didn't it?"

"I guess. Yeah."

You tried to take another bite, but the daisy-haired man took you hand and led the fork straight to his mouth. Part of you wanted to kill him, if it wasn't his food you were stealing from.

Maybe you actually cared about him, despite how weird he was.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jouno nodded, starting to eat now knowing that you were willing to take from his plate. Watching him was funny - trying to be as unmessy as he could, while smearing half of his face in sauce.

It was a little cute, seeing him struggle each time.

"Since I was twelve, there's this...mark, on my back. It's not really something you can see, but something you can more feel. It should be related to you, since no doctor has had an explanation for it."

Saying that was strange. The culprit was right in front of you, and now you were asking him politely, despite him being a man who broke into your home at least three times now.

"What do you think it is?" He spoke with his mouthful and no table manners, and at this rate you would rather have him eat with his hands.

"I don't know! Some fucked up masterpiece by a blind asshole I'm attached to for life. If you're an artist, I'm smacking the shit out of you."

You were starting to remember that promise when you were twelve. It really irked you that you hadn't kept to it yet.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's annoying."

Since it showed up, it ruined a lot of things for you - your expectations of your relationship, your fantasies, your dreams. It was really a bad premonition, because Jouno was just like that mark - fucking impossible to understand. And stuck to you for life.

"I can't believe you think the mark that signifies me, and our bond, is annoying. Wow, you hate me."

"You called mine a shitty tattoo!"

He stopped chewing like a marmot, going back slowly as he registered your words.

"...Okay. And?"

"Whatever. But you should get it." At the very least, if he was going to be a thorn in your side forever, he was going to be a useful one, and solve this for you.

"Why would I?"

"Don't play coy with me! That's how soulmates work! Didn't anyone tell you anything!"

"No not really. I honestly figured I would die before I met you, so I never cared."

He said this normally, as if he had said it before. It was just more dinner talk to him, as he chewed senselessly on his salad.

"...what?"

"I just never thought it would matter. I didn't think we would even meet, and I never thought about what would happen next. I don't think it's that big of a deal, really."

The world turned silent to you, as you heard him say that.

I never cared. I don't think its that big of a deal.

Then what were you doing here?

-

You never got your answer for that mark.

Stupid Jouno had disappeared to East Europe for the last two weeks, and you haven't heard back from him. Maybe you didn't want to.

He never cared.

You had spent years, before even knowing him, caring about what he would be like. You cared when he got stabbed, and you cared even when he rejected you.

But he never cared at all.

Did he never think about you? Not when you had broken your wrist? He felt your pain, didn't he feel that?

When you went to work today, you thought about getting hit by a car and seeing if he would call. Just to know if you were okay.

But that was selfish. He was probably busy, and making someone else feel the pain of getting hit by a car was more than a dick move.

You also needed that money from your job. They paid your rent, not your soulmate. That would stay a fantasy, and a dead one; where you and Jouno could function like a normal couple, and live together and maybe even get married.

If he was just a normal man. Who didn't say stupid things and hurt your feelings that you hated you had.

It was ruining the makeup that you spent hours on this morning.

-

"Hey."

"...It's been two months, and that's all you have to say? Hey?"

You had been ready to receive the news that he had died while he was there. Or at least see it on TV. He was practically MIA with the other Hunting Dogs, and no one in the government knew what the hell was going on.

"Listen. It's been a rough two months. When I come back, I want to see you. First thing.

"The hell am I to you? A dog? Should I come back with the morning newspaper?"

"I didn't realize you came with perks." He sounded exhausted over the phone, but his laugh was still the same. It managed to annoy you as well, even after not hearing it for two months.

"Go fuck yourself!"

"...Are you mad at me?"

Yes. You honestly had been mad at him since you knew him, but that wasn't something you wanted to admit to yet.

"No. You just caught me at a bad time."

"Just be at my apartment, alright? And wear that short dress with the strings. Or nothing at all."

"Is this a bootycall?"

"I call you for more things than that."

What an asshole. Jouno was supposed to be a logical man, but he had no clue how to navigate a human relationship it seemed. It was as if he was stepping on seashells every time, and you had to watch them crumble underneath his stupid boots.

He is horrible at navigating anyone's emotions. He only seemed to be able to hurt them.

You tried to keep your voice calm, despite the fact you wanted to cry. Part of you was proud that only your eyes were wet, knowing that Jouno wouldn't know how much he bothered you with his stupidity.

"We aren't anything. This is something."

"...Can we be something? I miss you."

He was almost whimpering over the receiver, and you hoped that someone on the other end could record what he looked like. Because he must have looked funny, begging and pleading like a dog.

"I'm expecting flowers. Or chocolate."

"You like dark, right? You have horrible tastebuds."

"Says the idiot who drinks more milk than coffee." He really should just add an espresso shot to his glass of milk, it was disgusting how much he added and then claimed he loved caffeine.

"Okay. Whatever. Love you."

God, what the hell was wrong with Jouno?

-

"The mark on your back."

Jouno's hand trailed up your spine, his fingers dancing along the little lines that made up the mark, as if reading it like a page in a book.

It felt good.

"Yeah?"

"It's a map." His lips were right above your ear, and you could feel how his breath fanned across your face. This man had no sense of personal space around you.

"Okay. And of what?"

"It's a map of my childhood home. I haven't been there in years. I don't know why it's on your back."

His fingers went lower, to the little part that was raised more than the rest. It looked like a mole, although the skin around it gave the impression of a faded scar, from what you had been told.

"How do you know it's a map?"

"I memorize everywhere I've been."

"And you know just by feeling it?" His hand splayed out against your back, making you feel small. Jouno's hands were not as soft as voice, and you could feel the work he put in them as his callouses brushed against your skin.

"I've never felt it before. But I know. It's strange that it's on your body."

"Well, it means something. It's been there since forever."

Over a decade now. It had taunted you for over a decade.

"...I haven't been there in a long time."

The man plopped his body down next to you, drapping half of himself on top of you. He was heavy, and his face was nearly smushed against your own as he lay there, as if he were a weighted blanket and not a man.

"You know there's another half of the bed, right? You own a king-sized mattress."

And silk sheets, that smelt really good.

He could roll over and still have space to spread out. There was no reason for him to treat your space like it was his own.

"You smell good." To exaggerate, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, smelling your neck and ear as if you were a living room candle.

You tried to push him away, laughing as he stuck his nose in the one ticklish spot along your neck, but it was hard to fight in the position you were in. Pulling against his hair and kicking against him was futile as he pulled you in closer, grabbing you two into a hold as he decided that your sweaty body was the best thing he had smelled since soap had been invented.

"Freak!" It was hard to stay serious as his arm danced along your sides, having you choke on the word as it sputtered out in laughter.

Jouno only laughed at your struggles. Because of course they were funny to a sadist like him.

-

"I um. I got you flowers."

Jouno looked funny when he tried to be anything other than a soldier or an asshole.

He dressed up - and not to beat a man to death, but because he was seeing you. On a date.

The first one since you had actually known each other. It was such a mundane thing, but it felt like you were seeing a wild animal playing dress up. His hair was done as nice as it usually was, and he was dressed in an outfit that you could picture him wearing to an event - he looked like he didn't have a criminal record.

The flowers added to it, bouncing from in front of him and between his side, as if he had never given a woman flowers in his life before.

His smile said otherwise, which couldn't help but make you laugh inside.

"For?"

"To apologize." He decided to push them into your hands, grabbing them around the stems and making sure you weren't going to drop them to the floor.

You would never do that. They smelled too nice.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"There's a lot of times I've made you cry. Usually, you apologize for that." His voice was low, as he fixed the bouquet he couldn't see. His hands were nervously looking for things to pick at, as if they had eyes of their own and could fix the world one little detail at a time.

His face stayed frozen in his stupid little smile.

"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it now."

"Can't you just accept some flowers?"

His hands decided to fix your hair, brushing down flyaways that didn't exist. If you stared only at his smile, you would think he was as calm as a still pond.

"...They're nice." They were your favorites. They matched what your childhood self had pictured for her stupid little wedding day. One you had given up on, but still wanted to believe in.

Maybe still did, in some way.

Jouno wasn't exactly what you pictured - he looked more like a fox than a handsome prince, and the way he smelled your head right now was more weird than romantic, but you were willing to take it.

He might have been your handsome prince.

"So is there a date planned? Or are we just standing in a park?"

"Why do you always question me?"

"You don't really know what you're doing."

Jouno was a brilliant man in a lot of things. But god he could not make up his mind when it came to you and what he wanted out of this.

Was this really that hard?

"You've seen me at work."

"Okay? Are we going to kill bank robbers or something? Is that our first date?"

The man most certainly had his gun on him, which confused you, because you knew that he hated using it more than any other weapon he owned. But yet you were sure that tucked away in his Chelsea boots was his little handgun, that he would pull out in a moment's notice.

Maybe he had one tucked away in his pants somewhere. He didn't seem to bring his sword, which is the only weapon he hadn't complained about to you yet.

"...It's the boring romance stuff. You like that."

"It's not boring-"

"I've seen your movies. It's boring."

He rolled his shoulders back, scanning the park as his earring danced against his neck.

"And what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Never really thought about it." His hands started to dance along your jacket, pulling against the lapels as if there was lint that he could actually see.

"Maybe you actually like the boring stuff, and just don't know it."

You started to ignore him, instead deigning to walk ahead of him with the bouquet he gave you.

Were you going to carry this the entire time?

"A walk in the park? You think that's fun?" He only took two big steps to catch up to you, and you dared to kick at him. You didn't care if you were trying to trip a blind man - Jouno wasn't a regular blind man, and he would probably throw you both into the grass eventually after one of you said something stupid.

"It's fun when it's with people you love."

Taking the bouquet, you gently slapped him with it. The daisy-haired man snorted back.

This is close enough to what you wanted.

Hey guys ignore the fact that I originally uploaded this half unfinished yesterday! This is for my Valentine's day event, so go check that out lol. Also sorry that its. So long.

[delirious-donna]

Chapter 1: The Perfect Home

pairing: vamp!Kakashi Hatake x female reader

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

The house was perfect. Love at first sight. A long abandoned stately home would be the perfect place to plant your roots and focus on your writing. There's only one problem... someone already lives there, and he can't wait to meet you.

wc: 3.4k

tw: vampire AU, smut/suggestive throughout, strangers to lovers, talk of blood, minor mention of suicide and parental loss, slight pervert Kakashi, dream sexy times, heavy(ish) petting, this will be the most tame part and I am not sorry for how jam packed full of smut this story will be, reader described as curvy

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Two

Moving would never not be exhausting.

You panted heavily, dropping the box in your arms to the floor with a heavy thud that sent a flurry of ancient dust motes into the air. There were so many boxes still to be moved, and the thought alone pulled a groan of fatigue from your chest.

It would have been so much easier had you chosen a cute little apartment to move into, but no, you had fallen head over heels in love with a musty, dusty old mansion located in the arse end of nowhere. That alone spoke volumes about your personality—your desire to buck the norm and set your own path in life.

Imagination and creativity flowed through your veins like the very blood that continued your existence, and of course, when you came across the dilapidated mansion on one of your evening strolls, it would be love at first sight.

It was difficult to describe the immediate pull you felt towards the building as you gazed longingly at the high arched windows on the top floor, but it was right there in your chest, and you couldn’t deny it. Maybe it was the author in you that resonated with the now empty residence—imaging the place in its glory days and who might have called the place home.

There was no doubt that it had once been a majestic property, and it wasn’t at all hard to picture the gilded edges of the steep roof unbroken and sparkling in the last rays of the setting sun. The dark charcoal of the solid stone walls strong and unblemished and the ornately twisted wrought iron of the balcony railing a pretty addition to lean against and enjoy the summer breeze.

Heavy purple drapes still hung in the windows, and it gave the sense of someone or something wishing to hide from prying eyes despite being abandoned for so many decades.

Curious…

A ‘For Sale’ sign lay slumped against a mighty oak tree that resided just within the fearsome looking gates of the property, appearing as if it had been listed on the market for a considerably lengthy period without any interest.

You had to admit that the wickedly sharp spikes atop the gate might seem unappealing to some, but to you, it was simply another puzzle piece that intrigued you even more. Intrigued enough to pull out the notepad you kept tucked away in your purse for just such times. Normally, you used it to capture bursts of writing inspiration that struck at weird times, tonight you scribbled down the realtor details listed on the sun-bleached board.

When you finally turned to resume your walk home, the mesmerising spell of the house at last breaking enough to release you from your silent gazing, a shadow flitted across your vision from the tallest window. It was gone before you could refocus your gaze, a sharp intake of breath caught in your throat whilst an indescribable sensation swept through you.

It caused the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand to attention, on alert for anything further. The moment dragged on, eyes fixed upon the window in question and your heart thundering in your chest. Was it a trick of the light or was your brain trying to convince you of things that simply were not there?

After the longest time, you moved away but the further you got from the house, the more you felt as if the place tried to call to you—trying to sway you back with a kind of magic you couldn’t comprehend.

~

The realtor had been rightly dumbfounded with your insistence of purchasing the property without asking for a full tour of the estate. They simply couldn’t realise how hypnotised you were with the place and that there was likely nothing that would sway you away from the decision to own the house.

When they realised you were a cash buyer—an impatient one at that—they became far more accommodating to your wishes.

According to the realtor, the property had previously belonged to the Hatake family, and it had been considered their ancestral home.

The Hatakes were a wealthy family with their hands both firmly into agriculture and the farming of the surrounding lands, dirtied by fertile soil and the sweat of hardwork. Those once rich farmlands now made up much of the nearby metropolis, where nothing fresh or green grew without a planning permit and enough paperwork to drown a person.

They had prospered well over a century and a half ago until a series of tragedies befell the family and ultimately resulted in their demise.

The biggest ink stain on the Hatake history was the tragic life and disappearance of the last born Hatake. The details of which were apparently still largely a mystery in these parts. It was a local story, and one that you had not previously heard of, but the realtor was more than happy to tell the tale for you.

The story went that the son departed the mansion one day after losing his father to suicide and had not returned. His mother had passed away during childbirth and with the only son missing, the house fell into silence and disrepair. Eventually, the bank became the owners by default and the property had stood uninhabited for nearly a century.

How could you not find that intriguing?

From there it was an easy descent into a rabbit hole of theories—considering the potential outcomes of this mysterious missing Hatake and wondering over the details of the apparent suicide of his father.

Your heart tugged for the young man, what a horrific set of events for any person to endure. Part of you could well understand why he may wish to disappear and hoped it hadn’t been as nefarious as the realtor tried to portray.

What you didn’t know at that point, but would soon discover, was that the missing Hatake had long since returned to his family home, and he was more than looking forward to introducing himself to you.

~

Kakashi Hatake, the rightful heir and owner of this property, paced the cramped room in endless agitation. He was not used to such confined spaces, having previously roamed his home freely since his return. In fact, he loathed to feel trapped. It had a way of bringing up unwanted memories and soured his mood.

His instincts were drowning him in unfamiliar sensations, his physical body reacting to the lone female presence that was so close and yet still so far. His headache only grew brighter behind his eyes whilst he continued to fight against his normal compulsion to rest during the daylight hours—hiding from the sun.

Running a hand through his unruly silver hair, he managed a deep steadying breath to regain his composure. He recalled the rage that had consumed him not even a few hours ago with a tight grimace and barely leashed growl. He was never going to react well to the presence of two men in his home, even if they were only carrying furniture into the various rooms whilst his new guest directed them cheerily.

He had not been pleased by their being there at all, yet he knew it was a necessity of the transition. Despite his best efforts at rationalisation, he continued to direct his awareness to pay close attention to the moving men. His mind was running riot at the mere thought of what perverse things a young female, such as yourself, could fall victim to by their grubby hands if given the chance.

How perfectly hypocritical of him.

The razor-sharp, elongated points of his fangs sank heavily into his bottom lip whilst he contemplated on all the perverse things, he wanted to do to you, and he hopefully would do, soon.

This was one of his favourite fantasies come to life, the pages of his well-thumbed romance novels becoming a reality that he was living, and the thought was a very pleasant one. It shamed him to do so, but Kakashi pressed his palm down on the front of his pants, the fabric far tighter and restricting on his growing erection than he wanted to admit.

He was a monster.

Kakashi’s hunger was practically palpable, nostrils flaring wide as he scented the delicate and intoxicating fragrance of your blood. It wafted easily to him as you wandered your new home, carrying boxes and examining the contents at leisure. Kakashi could only describe it as sweet with a hint of spice, akin to hot honey and he absently licked at his lips. Despite having taken precautions against this very situation, the blood from the previous evening had not been anywhere near sufficient to quell the thirst that was manifesting rapidly.

He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he knew, deep down, that you were somehow different. The realisation did as much to terrify him as it did to excite.

Kakashi was a vampire, an old one at that, and it had been a long time since he felt any sliver of fear. He was the thing to be feared, not some alluring young woman he didn’t even know—yet.

Thinking back to the night where he had first sensed your presence, he let a small smile curl the very corners of his lips. It was intriguing to recall how his body had seemingly moved of its own accord that evening, feet pulling him over to the small gap in the curtained window like a puppet connected to strings made of blood red thread.

A lone figure stood just outside the gate, watching and longing for something… for this house, his house.

Dressed in an oversized hooded sweater and tight navy jeans he had tsked grumpily at the standard of modern fashion. When had tight bodices and skirts with layers upon layers of petticoats gone out of style? A shame, truly.

However, he could at least tell that you were curvy even beneath the baggy material that tried to hide that very fact, and your hips had that lovely roundness that he was particularly fond of.

He hadn’t been ready for you to leave when you first showed signs of departing, a hand reaching out to touch the glass separating you both without thought.

The suggestion had been thrown before he could stop himself. The result, your head whipped back around to stare intently at the window, the one he was watching you from. It was his fault, and he silently cursed at how easily he had been able to steal inside your mind and implant the idea that a shadow had passed through your vision when it had not.  

Your name whispered to him in that moment, causing an unbidden grin to widen across his face. You were in love with this house—his home—and Kakashi chuckled quietly whilst planning his next set of moves.

He released your mind without further incident, allowing you to slip into the warm summer evening rather than listening to the urge to pursue you into the darkness as he was his instinct.

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

~

Finally, after a gruellingly long day of strenuous work, you threw yourself atop your plush bed. Your back sinking deep into the soft as a marshmallow comforter. It had been one of the very first things you unpacked after assembling your new bed, quickly followed by your toiletries and you silently praised yourself for that genius forethought.

Waves of fatigue hit you at full force, followed by a deep yawn that rattled your ribs. It was going to be a big adjustment going from a pokey little one bed apartment to a large and empty mansion, and most of your friends thought you to be mad to take on such a project but they couldn’t see the potential that you could. 

However, one thing you had not fully anticipated was the noises that accompanied the house.

You would swear that the floorboards creaked only to torment you at your most vulnerable moments, and the sound of the old pipes being used for the first time in decades was enough to fray the last of your nerves.

This was far more unnerving than you imagined, a far cry from being scared in your old apartment where in the worst case you could run to the neighbours you trusted. Out here the nearest house was a good ten minutes away by foot, you were alone, and it spooked you.

After a frustratingly tense soak in the beautiful claw-footed porcelain tub in your ensuite bathroom, you exited squeaky clean and no longer smelling of musty curtains. You grabbed the nearest clean clothes you could reach, happy to curl up in anything as long as it was fresh and smelled familiar.

The oversized grey t-shirt covered your underwear and dropped down to your knees, the fabric soft from years of wearing and it smelled like home, a welcome thought on this particular night.

Tomorrow was going to be another full-on day. You needed to rise with the sun if you were to make the most of it for unpacking and the deep clean that many of the rooms needed before they were habitable.

With that in mind, you slid beneath the thick duvet and rubbed your cheek sleepily against the pillows. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you like a coveted possession, and you drifted into a seemingly peaceful slumber.

It would not last…

~

The sound of your name whispered against the shell of your ear, floating on a wind that whipped softly around your consciousness. It prodded delicately at your sleeping form and watched with glee when you turned to press your face deeper into the pillow, slipping into a dream that would be like no other.

All was dark.

Everything was still and unmoving, a tremor of trepidation rippled through your mind. You became aware of your form quite suddenly, blinking as if out of a dream and into a reality, but you would not be fooled so easily.

Glancing down you could see the oversized shirt you’d pulled on before clambering into bed and your bare toes even lower still, wiggling against a hardwood floor.

You tried to raise your hand, to feel the fabric of your shirt between your fingertips but the action felt heavy… restricted… like wading through thick treacle. Warm breath caressed your neck, jolting you out of your confusion and leaving your heart thundering in your chest. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and you longed to close your eyes, but fear kept them wide and watching.

Again, without warning, a black gloved hand appeared and touched the flare of your hip as if someone stood behind you, yet you couldn’t sense anyone there.

All you could do was watch as the strong fingers pinched the material of your top, much like you had wanted to, until it twisted in their grip. A low grunt of disapproval floated in the air around you, disembodied and clearly irritated, followed by a masculine voice which made your body quiver.

“You should be in satins, silks, lace.”

There was something immediately attraction about the voice, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Yes, you were trembling with fear of the unknown, quaking on the spot, but there was a deep secret part of your psyche that felt a rush of exhilaration.

A quiet hum sounded by your ear, a wave of warm breath fanning over your neck and the gloved hand reappeared higher up your body. The index finger ghosted the curve of your jaw, not touching yet close enough that it almost felt like it was. It was impossible to suppress the whimper leaving your mouth, and it was followed by a request made by the stranger.

“Will you let me… touch you more?” The disembodied voice asked, sounding like hot honey dripping your spine. Just breathless enough that your skin prickled pleasantly.

You swallowed, throat working hard whilst your sensible brain warred with the spontaneous part that demanded, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

A ‘yes’ almost tipped your tongue, if only to find out exactly what might happen, but you had a concession to add firstly. “If you make yourself known, then… yes.”

A chuckle tickled your ear.

You could feel the air behind you ripple with power that felt ancient and foreign, and without turning, you knew there was someone standing there now. It made you antsy, your fingers wriggling in want to reach back and feel what was there. Surely a foolish idea given your inability to run.

“I won’t hurt you, little one. Consider this a safe space, and if you tell me no, I will listen,” he reassured unprompted.

Perhaps he could hear your heart as it ricocheted around your ribcage or feel the itchy tightness in your limbs. Whatever it was, you appreciated the candour and took it for truth, no matter how crazy it was to do so.

The wet muscle of your tongue passed over your lips, wetting them thoroughly and giving your consent with a single nod of your head. It was all it took for the presence at your back to pull you into their chest, hands around your upper arms without exerting pressure, fingertips tracing soothing circles into the skin below the sleeves of your shirt.

He was tall, with a strong chest that you were content to rest against. You had expected his body to feel hot like his breath had on your neck, but he was surprising cool given the circumstances.

His head dipped over the curve of your shoulder and tufts of silver hair entered your periphery. Your eyebrows pinched at the wet marks he left over your neck, seemingly drawn time and again back to the wildly beating thrum of your pulse.

Despite the coolness of his body, his lips were far from cold, and they spread wildfire into your veins without restraint. Never had something felt so wrong but entirely right at the same time.

It took you a long moment to notice that his other arm had wound around your front, the equally gloved hand exploring you with a touch that was as careful as it was eager. Long, slender fingers gripped at your hip, kneading at the curve of your waist, and even dared to drift higher to softly paw at the weight of your breasts.

He continued until your nipples stiffened beneath the thin cotton, your head falling back when he pinched the bud between finger and thumb, the friction intensifying in the pit of your belly.

“I have no doubt that you taste divine.” The stranger whispered against your neck, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Whilst you had always enjoyed stories about faceless strangers luring women into fantasy situations, never had you thought it would be you. You reminded yourself that this was a dream and nothing more, a concoction created by a fatigue addled brain. Yet, it was hard to remember that when you felt as if he was drawing closer and closer to touching you below the waist.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you swayed your hips to press yourself further back into the frame behind you. Ignoring the flare of danger ringing in the back of your mind.

Ringing… right.

Now you thought about it there was a ringing building in your ears.

It was irritating.

An incessant buzz in your head that turned everything around you to static.

You felt him stiffen, a loud exhale of angry breath blowing strands of your hair across your shoulder. His roaming hands paused, and an intimidating growl made you shudder.

“Dammit!” He yelled angrily, and you instinctively knew it was uncharacteristic of your mystery man. “I’ve not had long enough with you…”

There was no time to ponder any of what had happened, or the feeling that you knew this man in some way. Your fingers shot up to wrap around his wrist, a desperate act to hold on but it was like trying catch smoke.

The blaring ring of an alarm clock ripped you from his grasp and back into consciousness. Back into the comfort and safety of your bed.

Blinking and confused as to why you wanted to stay… but where and with who?

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the drawing room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her.

She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure our mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

[random-potat]

and they were roommates - kjs. - pt. 6

part 6. mission: don't burn the house down (wc. 459)

Walking into your shared room with Haneul and Siyoon, you take in the whole experience. The room was minimal, with large windows bringing in the natural light. There were three beds evenly spaced out with a small walk-in closet toward the left. 

“Ok! So who wants which bed?” Haneul asks. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Doesn’t matter to me; I just can’t wait to sleep.” 

“Oh my gosh, same,” Siyoon exclaims. 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” 

“Let’s go!”

After unpacking your clothes and makeup into the closet, the three of you guys sit on the ground in order to get to know one another.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Siyoon suggested. “Things like birthdays, or like favourite artists.” 

As you nod along, Siyoon speaks, “I’ll go first! My birthday is February 16th, and I really like IU and Lisa from Blackpink.” 

Haneul goes next. “I was born on May 25, and I’m a very big fan of Olivia Rodrigo.” 

Being the last one, you think about who your favourite artists are. “My birthday is ___, and I really enjoy SEVENTEEN, and my mom listened to a lot of 70’s/80’s music when I was growing up, so I really admire ABBA and Queen. 

Just as the conversations get more comfortable with jokes being made, a bell can be heard coming from the living room. 

The three of you all lock eyes. “Guess we have to go outside,” you state. 

Going out of the room, you see the three guys coming out of their room at the same time. Heading towards the living room, you can see what looks like a letter on the coffee table. 

With the six of you guys sitting on the sofas, Youngjae reaches out for the letter and reads it aloud. 

“Welcome to the first official mission of We Became Roommates! Every new home needs to hold a housewarming party, and a housewarming party is not the same with some food. This week’s mission is to come together as a group and make a homemade meal. You guys will be separating into two groups of three by picking sticks that have a colour and heading to the grocery store to get ingredients. The red team will be in charge of the main course, and the blue team will be in charge of the desserts. Happy cooking, and welcome to the new home!” 

You nervously make eye contact with Youngjae, knowing that cooking is not yours or his forte. Baking and cooking are definitely two different things in your head.

Picking out your sticks, you end up in the main course meal team, with Ni-ki and Jongseob. 

“Soo,” you start, “does anyone know how to cook?” 

Crickets. 

“Ok, let’s just try not to burn the house down,” you murmur.

a/n: let's hope they don't burn the food :) also i think u can easily lose a 6ft man at a grocery store but i digress 😌 also dont mind the typo that was on the 4th pic 😀 im actually a lil 🤏 bit behind at doing the drafts for this smau but it's ok 💪 gotta challenge my time management skills (ᴗ_ ᴗ。)╭ i have like a bunch of the storyline planned out just need to actually do the social media part of it and do all those pictures ദ്ദി (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)

synopsis: With long-time K-pop fans asking for another season of the infamous variety show We Got Married, MBC brings it back with a spin-off, We Became Roommates. As a way to bring K-pop fans together, the first season involves six idols born in 2005. With seeing each other every day, doing missions for every episode, making memories, and fans watching and shipping, blossoming friendships and a bubbling romance can't be helped. pairing: idol!jongseob x fem idol!reader genre: idol au, crack, fluff, humour, coworkers to friends to lovers

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likes and reblogs are appreciated ⋆˙⟡♡

taglist; open 📌: @yoizhrs @sunoostripletriple @seobluv @sirenla @chuuswifereal @rkivegirlsblog @tkooooop @forever-atiny @i03jae @bludzk1llzyuzu @downmainstreet @astro-doll-the-star @rinaforstars @ssweetreveries @finnbbl @keropiimp3 ~ (send an ask or comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊)

[kckt88]

I Just Can't Help Falling In Love With You.

Summary:

After the birth of their daughter Y/N worries about the changes to her body, so her husband Aemond takes it upon himself to show his wife just how much he loves her.

Contains a small flashback!!

Warning(s): Body Image Issues, Upset, Kissing, Spitting Lactation Kink, Smut – Oral Sex (F Receiving), P in V Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Different Positions, Language.

Word Count: 2639 - Some Fluff and SMUT!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N

PART OF DON'T MESS WITH MY MIND - But can be read as a one-shot.

Inspired by the song: ELVIS - I JUST CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin, @aemondsfavouritebastard, @toodlesxcuddles, @ammo23

As he entered the flat Aemond couldn’t help his sigh of contentment at the smell of talcum powder and baby shampoo lingered in the air.

After taking his shoes off and putting his car keys in the bowl, Aemond quickly tugged off his coat and ran a hand over his face, it was good to be home.

Walking over to the bookcase, Aemond picked up a photograph and smiled, it had been taken the day his precious daughter was born.

Aemond had no idea how much time had passed since Y/N was instructed to push, even as the labour tired her, she kept going. Her red face covered in sweat and tears.

Her nails dug into his skin as she pushed with all her might.

“That’s it, I can see the babes head”.

“You can do it my love. That’s it. Keep pushing” urged Aemond, grimacing slightly as Y/N squeezed his hand even tighter.

“Keep going. Your doing so well-“

"You’re doing it my love" exclaimed Aemond.

“The head’s out. Now just wait until the next contraction and push”

Even though she was exhausted, Y/N took a deep breath and gave one last push.

Then an ear-piercing cry shattered the silence of the room. 

Aemond’s heart swooped at the sound, his lips parting in amazement as a squalling pink baby was placed on Y/N’s chest.

Y/N whimpered next to him, her eyes shining with relieved tears. 

The baby was a girl.

“Mr Targaryen, would you like to cut the cord” asked the Midwife.

Aemond nodded eagerly as he wiped the tears from his cheeks, his hands shaking as he took the small medical scissors and cut where the Midwife pointed to.

“Aemond. Look, our girl” gasped Y/N.

“She’s perfect” whispered Aemond in awe.

His heart bursting with love at the sight of his newly born daughter in the arms of his wife.

“She looks like you” said Y/N happily.

The baby had a full head of dark blonde hair, never in his life had Aemond ever seen so much hair on a babe.

No wonder Y/N had suffered constantly with heartburn.

Suddenly a small cry broke Aemond out of his reverie and he went into the second bedroom that they’d converted into a nursery.

The light pink walls, adorned with butterfly wall decorations courtesy of his sister Helaena and pictures of various family members.

“Shhh my sweet girl, what’s wrong?” asked Aemond as he lifted his three month old daughter out of her cot.

“S-Sorry I was tidying the bedroom” urged Y/N as she entered the room.

“It’s ok, I just got here, I think she’s hungry-hey little miss, you won’t get any milk out of there” laughed Aemond as his daughter began rooting against his chest.

Y/N giggled sweet as she took their daughter and sat in the rocking chair by the window, Aemond watched silently as she undid her dressing gown and allowed their fussing daughter to latch onto her exposed breast.

“Is everything ok?” asked Y/N.

“Yeah, it’s fine, why wouldn’t it be” replied Aemond.

“You have that soppy look on your face”.

“Only because you’re so beautiful” said Aemond smiling.

“It’s only because I’m so in love”.

“No-no, it’s because I’m so in love with you” laughed Aemond.

“So, love has blinded you?” asked Y/N teasingly.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I meant” replied Aemond.

“But it’s probably true” smiled Y/N.

Aemond laughed again, and then furrowed his brow as his attention was caught on a pink bunny rabbit teddy.

This was new, he’d not seen it before.

“It was a gift” said Y/N as she rubbed their daughters back, trying to encourage her to burp.

“From whom? I thought my mother had sent some blankets she’d knitted”.

“She did, but it’s not from your mother. It’s from Aegon” replied Y/N.

At the mention of his brother’s name, Aemond’s head whipped round so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Please tell me he wasn’t in this flat, if he came anywhere near Mila I swear-“

“-Relax my love, the postman delivered it this morning” said Y/N.

“How do you know it was from Aegon?” asked Aemond as he took Mila from Y/N and laid her on the changing table.

“There was a note” said Y/N as she re-tied her dressing gown, watching as Aemond rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoo of Mila's footprint on his forearm.

“What did it say?” mused Aemond as he changed Mila’s nappy.

“That he was sorry for the way things had turned out, he said he missed you and he hopes to meet his niece one day”.

“Not a chance” quipped Aemond as he finished redressing Mila and then placed her in the cot. He took one of the blankets his mother had knitted at then covered their daughter with it, making sure she was safely tucked in before he turned on the dragon mobile.

As a soft melody began to fill the air, Y/N tugged Aemond out of the room leaving the door slightly ajar.

Aemond obediently followed his wife to their bedroom.

“What happened in here, looks like a hurricane has hit it” wondered Aemond as he noticed all the clothing strewn on the floor.

“W-Well, I-I Just-“ muttered Y/N shuffling her feet awkwardly on the carpeted floor.

“What’s the matter?” asked Aemond, noticing his wife’s shift in demeanour.

“I was trying on clothes and some of them don’t fit and-“ whimpered Y/N as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Hey” gasped Aemond as he walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her.

“I don’t look the same as I did before-how can you even stand to look at me”.

“Because I love you so much and you are the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever laid my eye on” said Aemond firmly.

“I-I’m not the same-my body it has changed” muttered Y/N.

“Your body grew and nourished our child; you are so beautiful my love” replied Aemond as he clasped Y/N’s face in his and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Aemond” gasped Y/N, her cheeks tinged pink.

“What will it take for you to believe me?” mused Aemond.

“I-I don’t know” whispered Y/N, her fingers fiddling with the cord of her dressing gown.

Aemond’s singular eye roved over Y’N’s breasts that were visible through the gap on her dressing gown and smirked as his cock began to grow hard in his trousers.

“Hm-I think I know how” growled Aemond as he reached forward a loosened the dressing gown cord, his mouth watering as it fell open to reveal his wife’s luscious body.

“Aemond” exclaimed Y/N as he slipped the silken material from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor.

“I’m going to show you just how beautiful you truly are” said Aemond as he stepped back and began pulling at his own clothes and in no time at all he was completely naked, his cock now fully hard and leaking.

“Is such a thing possible?” asked Y.N.

“All things are possible little mouse” replied Aemond as he directed Y/N to sit on the bed.

“You are a goddess, now let me worship at your throne” said Aemond as he took hold of Y/N’s legs and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

“Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y/N.

“Such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up Y/N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y/N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my sweet. Let me hear you”. 

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y/N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y/N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y/N. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y/N; her chest heaving.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me” moaned Aemond.

Gods his cock was so hard, it was almost painful.

Finally, he felt Y/N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Her back arched taut as a bow, and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife whilst she came.

Soon her tense body went slack and pliant, her chest heaving with every breath.

Aemond slowly moved up Y/N’s body, pressing kisses to her soft body as he went, until he reached his desired destination.

“Daddy” whispered Y/N as she writhed against him.

Aemond looked at Y/N and smirked before he bent down to lick her nipples, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he went back and forth between his wife’s wonderful, enlarged breasts that nourished their daughter.

“Oh” muttered Y/N as she flung her arms over her face in embarrassment, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

“Do not feel embarrassed my love” whispered Aemond.

Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suck his wife’s breasts.

“A-Aemond” gasped Y/N.

“Surely you would not deprive me wife. Your mother’s milk tastes delicious” muttered Aemond softly.

“I need you” exclaimed Y/N.

“-Just a second” muttered Aemond as he reached into the draw of the bedside table and pulled out a condom.

Placing the square packet in his mouth, Aemond ripped it open with his teeth and quickly rolled the condom down his cock.

Aemond couldn't wait any longer. He surged forward and ploughed his hard cock into Y/N’s soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" shouted Y/N, her eyes popping open from her post-orgasm haze.

"You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y/N, her tone bordering on desperate as she thrust her hips upward towards his.

Aemond chuckled and bit down lightly on a nipple, making Y/N moan and squirm.

He started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Y/N.

"Patience, little mouse. This is our first time since you birthed our daughter" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up Y/N’s neck.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y/N.

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders, and down his back. Her nimble fingers mapped his back muscles and then went down to his arse and gripped him - pressing him into her harder.

“Gods, Y/N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond. Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Make me scream, make me come”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y/N was doing, but he couldn’t help himself.

Y/N wanted faster, and he was going much faster now; so much for having the control in the situation. His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips.

Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Aemond lifted Y/N’s legs onto his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock into her soaking wet pussy.

Y/N folded her arms above her head as she moved her hips, meeting Aemond thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y/N.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

Y/N always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

Aemond could feel the tension in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

Not even waiting for her orgasm to fully subside, Aemond moved Y/N’s legs off his shoulders and manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Y/N, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside Y/N once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

Y/N arched her back and screamed as Aemond pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

“Fuck. Y/N-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He took hold of Y/N’s hair, twisting his fingers in the silky strands before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held Y/N tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“Give it to me daddy” pleaded Y/N her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside Y/N.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from his wife’s wet heat and propped himself up against the headboard.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Y/N breathlessly.

“Ride me baby” replied Aemond as he pulled Y/N on top of him.

His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

“Oh” gasped Y/N as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on Y/N’s hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Y/N dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Y/N as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Y/N’s thighs began to burn, as she felt her third climax approach, if her husbands face had been sculpted by the gods themselves, then his cock had been given to him by the devil.

It was sin incarnate and Y/N was ready to let it claim her fully, her husband had possessed every fibre of her being and she revelled in it.

“AEMOND” screamed Y/N her vision going white as she came around his cock.

Her husband threw her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he pounded into her, her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping his body against hers as he chased his own end.

“God. Y/N” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside the condom, collapsing on top of his wife, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses.

Meanwhile his wife was laid underneath him completely blissed out. Her heart pounding in her chest.

“I love you little mouse, and you are beautiful never forget that” whispered Aemond as he slowly pulled his softened cock from his wife and disposed of the quite full condom in the bin.

“That was a lot of-“ muttered Y/N

“Well, we haven’t had sex since before Mila and I haven’t touched myself either” replied Aemond as he climbed back onto the bed and enveloped his wife in his arms.

“Oh” exclaimed Y/N.

“H-Have you touched yourself?” asked Aemond curiously.

“Once or twice, it’s those damn sweatpants that you insist on wearing-they fit your body perfectly and it was driving me insane, especially when you came back from the gym all sweaty-”

“Hm, you naughty little thing, I must insist that you show me” said Aemond.

“I will once I get the feeling back in my legs” laughed Y/N.

[sugakookie78]

Pregnancy (Instagram AU)

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

All pictures are from Pinterest

@/Y/N.Vettel and @/sebastianvettel We are welcoming a new member to the Vettel family

Liked by @/kimimatiasrakkonen, @/f1, and 397, 526 others

kimimatiasrakkonen Congrats, Sebastian and Y/N! You'll make great parents.

Y/N.Vettel Thanks, Kimi!

aussiegrit Congratulations to you two! I can't wait to meet Baby Vettel.

sebastianvettel Thanks, Mark. You'll have to come visit sometime

f1 Congrats Seb and Y/N! The question we're asking: Who are the godparents?

Y/N.Vettel We're sharing when the baby comes... You'll see

user1 Congrats!

user2 Congratulations!

@/Y/N.Vettel Baby Vettel is here. Named Lena Petra Vettel, born on October 14th. Thank you Sebastian for helping me through everything and being the best dad for Lena. The godparents: @/kimimatiasrakkonen and @/yourbestfriend

Tagged @/sebastianvettel

Liked by @/sebastianvettel, @/kimimatiasrakkonen, @/yourbestfriend, and 50,739 others

sebastianvettel Thank you, Y/N. You do all of the hard work, and I'll do whatever I need to help. I love you so much!

Y/N.Vettel I love you too! <3

user2 They are so cute!

kimimatiasrakkonen Congratulations! I'll have to come by soon to see my goddaughter

yourbestfriend I want to come and see Baby Lena too!

sebastianvettel We'll have to plan a time that both of you could come over and see Lena

yourbestfriend Congrats! Thank you for giving me the role of godparent... I will be spoiling her forever

Y/N.Vettel You and Seb both...

@/sebastianvettel Baby Lena Petra Vettel. Born on October 14th. Thank you, Y/N, for giving me the gift of the most beautiful baby girl ever. I love you so much. Both mom and baby are doing well and thank you for all the support! Lena's godparents are @/kimimatiasrakkonen and @/yourbestfriend

Tagged @/Y/N.Vettel

Liked by @/Y/N.Vettel, @/kimimatiasrakkonen, @/yourbestfriend, @/f1, and 315,829 others

Y/N.Vettel I love you too! Thank you for being the best father.

sebastianvettel It's the least I should do. <3

user4 This is what I want. Seb, raising the bar, again.

kimimatiasrakkonen Thanks for the honor, man. Can't wait to meet baby Lena

sebastianvettel She can't wait to meet you, either

yourbestfriend She's in good hands. I'll see her soon

f1 Congratulations, Seb! Take good care of @/Y/N.Vettel and baby Lena.

sebastianvettel Thank you, and of course I will

lewishamiton Congrats, man. Congrats, Y/N

Y/N.Vettel Thanks, Lewis. You'll have to come out and meet Lena sometime too

user3 She is adorable!

[stayinhellevator]

Parallels

"I love you but not in that way"

Synopsis: Love had found its way into Seokmin's heart, yet a different kind of love, unrequited and unspoken, lingered in yours.

Pairing: DK x fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU/Angst/Unrequited Love

Word Count: 1890

Warnings: none (I think?!)

Playlist: Not In That Way ~ Sam Smith

<Equation 1> <Equation 2> <Equation 3>

"You may now kiss the bride."

A thousand times you had imagined this scenario; a thousand times you had planned your wedding with Seokmin; a thousand times you had wanted to be the bride that he was now holding in his arms and kissing so gently as if even a little pressure would break her; an uncountable times you had wished to be his soulmate. And you had spent almost half your life thinking about all the possibilities, all the outcomes and all the calculations of 'what ifs'.

Yet nothing could've prepared you for this moment; the final showdown. There were cheers of congratulations around you as the newly weds bowed in gratitude; everyone was happy; heck, even your parents were applauding in happiness but you couldn't.

God knows you couldn't. You didn't even know how you were able to conjure up the energy to go through the wedding when there was a bile building up in your throat. The weight of an invisible stone on your heart was dragging you at a rapidly growing rate and all you wanted to do was run away and hide in your room but right at that moment, your infuriatingly gorgeous and oblivious childhood best friend, Seokmin waved his hand in your direction, giving you his infamous bright smile that held your heart in a chokehold ever since you began to understand the concept of love and soulmates. A hand that you noticed was entwined with his soulmate's; nevertheless you did what you had managed to perfect around him and ignored the pang in your chest, smiling back at him.

As you watched him exchange pleasantries with the guests, alongside his wife, a tear finally managed to escape the confines of your eyes. This felt like an unfavorable ending of your favourite book; the one that you desperately wanted to change. Alas! Destiny, the author, wouldn't even let you appeal your case for you were never meant to be the main character of this story.

You had known this when your soulmark appeared on your tenth birthday and it seemed different from Seokmin's. You remembered crying in your mother's arms for, to the ten year old you, it didn't make sense that Seokmin and you weren't soulmates because of course you were; after all you were attached to the hip ever since you were born and you both loved each other, didn't you?

Turns out, you were the only rider of that romance train for Seokmin was happy that you two received your soulmarks and that there were people out there waiting for the two of you. He didn't seem to be upset that you didn't have identical marks; he never was. And that's when he first broke your heart.

But God were you unable to stop loving him when his very essence brightened up even the darkest corners of your mind. Even now, you weren't able to move your eyes off his figure, as he practically buzzed with joy, an energy you'd never seen in him; his eyes brimming with adoration towards his wife; his smile brighter than all of the chandeliers in the venue; his steps light and bouncy as if he was the wind itself.

Later in the night, in the safety of your room, when you're empty after pouring your heart out, you'd be disgusted at yourself for wishfully staring at a man who belonged with someone else, a married man, someone's soulmate but right now, you can't stop. You want to paint his picture forever in the back of your mind, for one last time. Then, never again.

Your heart constricted with all the love you had for this man, your best friend, the love of your life who had already put his heart in someone else's hands. How were you ever going to forget about him and move on?

"You alright?"

A hand placed itself on your shoulder and without even turning back, you knew Hansol's otherwise indifferent face was twisted with concern for you because he knew; had always known how down bad you were for Seokmin, even though he joined your duo years later. He always expressed his surprise as to how Seokmin could not know about your feelings; he was even convinced that Seokmin was aware but chose not to acknowledge it but who knows? You were never curious for the answers after all. It was embarrassing enough that even a stranger could detect your feelings for him but he couldn't.

"Do I look okay?"

An exhausted sigh was your reply as if he understood and matched your desolation and quietly stood beside you to watch the newly weds have their first dance. A constant throbbing in your head made you want to smash your head against a wall and knock yourself out but you stood quietly, fisting your palm, as if trying to ground yourself.

"Why does fate gotta be so cruel? It's even hurrying the time against us. It must really hate us huh?"

A nonchalant chuckle escaped him as he tried to sound unaffected but you knew him as well as he knew you, if not more and you turned to face him, a tick in his jaw as he tried to stay stoic.

"I've had all the time in this world with Seokmin, at least as much as I could've had, until I couldn't cheat the fate anymore but you have one last night. So, go on, don't waste it on me. I'll still be there in your life but she won't."

His head snapped towards you as his eyes suddenly watered, making you smile at him with all the empathy in your heart for the third of your trio. Who knew better than you how much he was hurting? He gulped his emotions down before nodding at you in something that would always remain between the two of you and you watched him escape the hall with his lover on his toes.

At least, one of you was having a good night.

"Did you really think you could escape the dance with the man of the hour? I'm really hurt."

Oh if only he knew what hurt was.

You could only follow him as he held you and guided you towards the dance floor, both of your movements as naturally flowing as they could because everything was easy with him. You two worked like two peas in a pod, like bread and butter.

"The man of the hour was too busy tonight and I didn't want to gatekeep him."

You swallowed the lump in your throat before replying to him, not wanting to ruin the happiest day of his life. His playful eyes shone with mirth, before twirling you and bringing you back around.

"I could never be too busy for my best friend, you should know that."

Ah! Of course, you should know that, shouldn't you?

Blinking back the building moisture in your eyes, you nodded in agreement before pressing your lips in what you could only, a smile.

"Are you happy Minnie? Was it everything you ever dreamt of?"

You asked gently, wanting a confirmation to appease your broken heart, though you knew, his answer would be futile, because his shining eyes already gave you the answers you were looking for. And just like that, his face broke out in a breathtaking smile that used to be your home, your refuge.

"I'm on top of the world, like I don't even have words to tell you how I'm feeling right now. If I went on to describe how happy I am today, it'll probably take years for me to accurately put my feelings into words."

His eyes moved from yours to his soulmate, as if unable to detach from hers as yours to his face, a cruel magnet truly; and his voice softened with so much love that you had desperately wanted for yourself all these years.

"She's so pretty, so divine, that I feel unworthy of her. I can't believe I get to love her as my soulmate. I can't imagine a life without her. How have I ever lived a life without her in it?"

The tears that you were holding back ultimately started flowing down your cheeks as you heard him. If only you could have half of this devotion, you'd be delirious. He loved her so much. God, how were you ever going to recover from his words that were permanently going to scar your memories.

"I don't even wanna find out. I have her and that's more than enough for me. She's everything that I've ever dreamt of and more."

He shook his head, as if bringing himself out of a trance and faced you, only to be concerned on seeing you crying. He cupped your face, wiping your cheeks, a small frown on his face and you immediately hit yourself in your head. How could you be so selfish and worry him on his wedding? Your feelings are yours alone and not his concern.

You broke your heart loving a man destined to love someone else and it was your burden to bear not his.

"Hey! What happened? Why are you crying?"

You shook your head trying to both shake off his concerns and mustering up some courage to answer him without breaking down in his arms.

"It's nothing I'm just so happy for you. I got emotional seeing you all grown up and married and so in love. I'm so happy that you're happy Minnie."

His eyes softened at your words and he immediately pulled you into a hug, still softly swaying to the music.

"I hope you find your happiness too. I'll be right there when you find your soulmate and get married and have lots and lots of kids with them."

"I hope so too."

You really did, it was wishful thinking but you really hoped for his words to come true. You pressed your face on his shoulders, hiding your cries and you tightened the hug just a little before taking a deep breath and patting on his back and stepping back from his hold.

"I've taken a lot of your time. Now go back to your wife."

You watched how his frowning face smoothened before he gave a small pat on your head and walked towards his wife and pulled her into a kiss.

You found comfort in the fact that even though Seokmin was not meant to be yours, he'd never truly be away from you. He might not love you but a part of you would always love him and your love for him was enough for you.

You took a shaky breath as you realised you were about to close a big chapter of your life and put a lock on it, only to never open it again.

Seokmin and you might not be soulmates but you were platonic soulmates and it was the one thing no one could snatch from you.

You gave a half hearted smile to your mother, who looked at you with a knowing look on her face, before walking out of the hall, content with the bittersweet truth of your life.

You could always love him from afar and that's a privilege no one could ever take from you. It was your burden to bear alone after all.

©stayinhellevator: Please don't repost, translate or copy my work on any platform.

Read On Wattpad

[redrandomposts]

hey 🌻~! I saw that you might have forgotten to anonymize your post, so i decided to copy+paste it here... if it wasn't a mistake or you'd like to send in the ask again, then i'll c+p my response and put it there instead! srry i didn't respond earlier, either, i had to study..

hey me 🌻 again! I had a few thoughts about the Till raising his and tills test tube kid- firstly I think despite the fact that Ivan had no part in the kids actual conception Till would tell the kid all about his “father” kind of in the way one would talk about a dead spouse. he would make comments whenever the kid would do things Ivan used to do- and tell stories from their childhood, so Ivan feels like an active presence in their lives. Eventually the kid gets very skilled at drawing and as a gift on their parents anniversary (the anniversary of round 6) the kid draws a beautiful picture of their family- one that includes a smiling Ivan standing beside till- and it becomes tills prized possession- And maybe over time the kid gets into the habit of sketching Ivan into scenes of their family, movie nights in the couch show Ivan tucked into the corner holding them both close, pictures of them cooking in the kitchen show Ivan taking something out of the oven, and in a way despite the fact that he was long dead before the kid was ever born he feels as close as any parent. (And obviously people are worried about what this is doing to the kid emotionally- having such a clear reminder of their loss in their faces every day but it seems to be helping Till heal so they can’t begrudge him this small comfort) And then I was thinking that as time went on Till might start thinking of Ivan as a lost love, one he didn’t realize was love at the time but was love nonetheless. And as time goes on he becomes more and more comfortable with the idea that what they could have had together was love, and that despite the fact that Ivan is gone Till loves him now. The till that is far wiser in his age and experience can see that relationship in a new light and falls for Ivan all over again. (And they probably have a little shrine/memorial in their hose that till will talk to when when he thinks their kid isn’t looking so he can keep Ivan up to date about how their kid is doing.) And then I was thinking their afterlife reunion in this au would be so good!! Cause Till has been in love with Ivan for decades by the time he passes away of old age so he’s been waiting to get to see Ivan again for so long- but Ivan has NO CLUE that till has spent the last 50 years loving him relentlessly so till walks up to Ivan and is like “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long my love 🥰” while holding his face and poor Ivan is like “EXCUSE ME IM YOUR WHAT-“ and I think it would be such a fun twist on their usual dynamic to have till be the openly romantic and forward one and Ivan be all flustered <3 Thank u for always having such fun concepts to think about!!! I literally haven’t written this much in months lol

this concept came from an ask, so it's not necessarily mine... only the parts i've added onto it can be considered mine; that's the same for any other asks i get btw!

honestly the afterlife reunion would be wild. would they age in the afterlife? what form do they take on; the one they desire, the one they see themselves in, etc... imagine a seventy-year-old till, a 22 yo ivan, and a kid that's like... 30. lmaoooo. the thought that they can't watch the living also makes it kind of... sad. imagine sua and ivan waiting there for decades, maybe hyunwoo too, for mizi, till, and hyuna respectively (...maybe luka. if hyunwoo wanted to see luka for whatever reason). and ivan not telling sua the exact details of his comp so she won't make fun of him?

in some cultures you can send items to the dead by burning it. so like. what if the child and till sent letters, drawings and paintings, music sheets, etc. to ivan through that and ivan's recieving all of it, kind of confused ("since when did i have a kid?"), thinking that maybe it's a gimmick of some sort. there'll be tear smudges on till's paper, conveniently blurring till's confessions of love, so it remains a surprise...

how did this become a consideration of afterlife ivan and living till again?

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Twisted Wonderland Monster!AU Snippet: "A New Life"

So since the writing process for the pregnant fem!Yuu is taking a little longer than I'd like (I've got so many ideas on types of interactions before and after the baby is born, but as I said in another post, it's tricky figuring out which character to have in said situation 😂), I thought I'd share a snippet of what I have so far so you guys can see!

It might end up being a little (lot) longer than I anticipated depending on how much I want to add, so thank you for your patience everyone!

Note for context: Fem!Yuu is about five (5) months along in the beginning before she arrived in Twisted Wonderland, which means we get to explore the monster boys being curious (if a bit tsun-tsun) about the future baby. Grim is also acting like those pictures and videos of cats who snuggle their pregnant owner's belly, but he doesn't even know why he's doing it and no one else has any idea what's going on either. 😂

ALSO, IF I NEED TO TAG THIS ANY SPECIFIC WAY, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN ADD THE TAGS FOR THIS AND WHEN THE FIC IS READY TO BE POSTED!!!!

///----------///

“…hm?” Grim uttered, quickly pulling away to stare at Yuu’s middle with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

Grim said nothing for a moment, his expression focused as he pressed his cheek and ear against her belly again. Just as it had earlier, Yuu felt movement inside—movement that startled Grim as he jumped away with a yelp. “Fygah!? What was that?!” he asked, fur bristling and wings flaring defensively.

“Wait, what happened?” Deuce asked.

“I felt somethin’ move!” Grim told them, looking thoroughly spooked now.

“What?! Does the human have a parasite inside?!” Sebek said, Yuu wincing as the volume caught the attention of the students around them.

“Don’t be silly. Internal parasites can't be felt so clearly outside the body,” Riddle commented, holding his tray of food as he sat down at a nearby table.

Realizing that things would get out of hand if she didn’t stop it, Yuu reached out to pull Grim into her arms and said, “He’s not wrong, guys. Grim did feel something move.”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention as they stared at her in confusion. “He…felt something?” Deuce repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Well…let’s just say that—technically speaking—I wasn’t the only human that came to Twisted Wonderland.”

“EH?!?” came the literal chorus of voices as the teenagers stared at her.

“Wait, you mean there’s another human somewhere?!” Cater asked, his phone already up and ready to start typing. “Where are they? Do humans turn invisible? What’s their name??”

“No, humans don’t turn invisible. As for where they are…you’ll have to guess that. And for their name…well, they don’t have one yet.”

“Eh? How come they don’t have a name?” Epel asked. “And…if there’s another human here, why weren’t they at the ceremony?”

“Oh, they were there,” she told them, unable to help the smile on her face. “In fact, everyone was looking at them the whole time.”

“I didn’t see them at all!” Grim protested, paws reaching up to grip her face. “Tell me where they are!”

“Grim, you’ve probably been the closest one to them for the past month now,” she told him, laughing as she booped his nose. “At this rate, I’ll be having trouble carrying you and them around.”

“Huh? What does that even mean?” he asked, looking at the others as they shrugged.

“Fufufufu…oh my. It would seem my suspicions were correct!” a familiar deep voice behind them said.

“Fygah!! Where’d you come from?!”

Despite the surprise appearance, Yuu’s smile was still as wide as Lilia’s as the lantern bat hung upside down beside her. “My apologies, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation,” he said before tilting his head to peer at Yuu. “I believe congratulations are in order, my dear. When are you due?”

“In about three and a half months,” she told him, placing her hand on her stomach as the baby moved again.

“Oh! Well, it seems like we’ll all be hearing the pitter-patter of tiny human feet around the school. How lovely~! Is this your first?”

Nodding, she said, “Yeah. I’m a little nervous since there’s been so much going on, and things have been a little…stressful.”

“Ah yes, I can understand that,” he replied, giving the others a sly smile. “After all, I’ve heard that stress isn’t good for expecting mothers and their unborn baby.”

“B-b…b…BABY?!”

“Ah, there it is,” Lilia said with a chortle. “I was wondering how long it would take.”

“I was just thinking of how to give them a bigger hint,” Yuu said with a giggle.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Ace stammered, eyes wide as saucers. “You mean…Yuu is pregnant?!”

“Mm-hm. You hit the nail on the head!”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEH!?!”

[sterekchub]

A03 is still down and I'm going crazy and craving some Hale family angst so: Some Peter/Stiles. BUT IT GOT OUT OF HAND and is 99% plot and 1% kink. Really, I just wanted Peter Hale a little gassy with a beer gut and stretchmarks and Stiles is very, very into it. And a little h/c because werewolves shouldn't GET stretchmarks but...Peter still has scars that haven't healed, so his stretchmarks don't either. Soulmate AU - less relevant about soulmates and more for kink and plot. Also ….a restaurant AU because I have a problem. And the timeline has changed a little bit to adjust the ages so - Peter gets a lonnng coma. Stiles like 25, Peter around 40, so fire happened when Stiles was 14, Derek was 16, and Peter was around 30? IDK

Stiles is born with his soulmark so- he has no idea if his soulmate is around his age or older. But obviously Peter's shows up only when Stiles is born so, he knows he's got almost 15+ years on his soulmate, making him about the same age as his niece and nephew. It's not the most reassuring and Peter sort of resigns himself to a very lonely future until his soulmate is of age, and even then, the age gap doesn't reassure him they'll be a good match

And then the fire happens. The Sheriff pulls Peter Hale out of the fire and sees his son's name written on arm, and knows his son has Peter written in the same spot on his. It's a tough conversation with Stiles when he's old enough to know. It's years of therapy, of the Sheriff and therapists telling Stiles he can't sit in a hospital room waiting for someone who won't wake up. So - Stiles moves on. Dates other people who have lost their soulmates. Stops visiting Peter daily and only comes every other month. The best thing he can tell himself is - at least he knows who is soulmate is.

Stiles' graduates decides he's had enough of the violence and changes his major from criminal justice to culinary. Opens the Full Moon diner in Beacon Hills - a safe haven for the supernatural, starts a foodbank and soup kitchen a few doors down.

Peter wakes up almost 10 years later - and nearly kills a nurse because he asked about his family and she immediately dropped on him how many years have past, most the Hales are dead, the house is gone…Peter has nothing left. They sedate him - and Peter has the last fleeting fear they must know he's a werewolf, why else would the sedative work? And then nothing.

He wakes up handcuffed to the bed with the Sheriff sitting next to his bed. And Peter is a total ass and threatens to burn down Beacon Hills until his anger burns away to be completely lost and replaced with total hopelessness.

The Sheriff tells him a family friend has kept everything in order for him. Gives him an address and an apartment key. All his bank accounts and license are still kept active and waiting there. Basic clothes and necessities. The file on the fire. The death of Kate Argent, pictures and some postcards from Cora and notes from Derek. The obituaries of the Hales. The location of the burial plots. Whatever was left from the Hale house and vault.

Also tells Peter to head to the Full Moon diner a block away, ask for Stiles and get a warm meal.

He expects a cold sandwich at most, when he quietly tells his waiter to ask for Stiles and says he has no wallet on him. "Stiles" looks barely into his 20s, and when he asks Peter what he wants and he can't bring himself to care or expect much. Just asks for a water.

Stiles brings him a hot sandwich, soup, a coffee, a soda, water a slice of pie…tells Peter no worrying about deciding. He can try it all. *****************

And then some plot (a lot of plot) Sheriff and Stiles have gone through all the same supernatural stuff, know most of the Hales are werewolves from what Derek's told them. Stiles' dad doesn't tell Peter his son is his soulmate. And warns Stiles to not immediately drop that on him. Besides him already processing a lot - coming out of a coma just like that is….there's no guarantee he'll mentally come back from it.

Peter keeps coming back to the diner - on his good days. Most days, he can't bring himself to leave. He'll sit on his bed and stare blankly for hours. Spends days awake when he's afraid he'll go to sleep and wake up and find he's back in the coma. Other days he goes into such a rage he claws at the walls of his apartment and punches the concrete until his hands are raw and bloody. On the bad days. Stiles drops off a week's worth of nicely packaged meals with little notes on them. Sometimes it's only a smiley face, other time it's movie recommendations, sometimes it's important cultural events he's missed. One day it's a therapists business card. Another time it's a little wolf plushie. Peter goes to therapy. Turns to using food to cope, because there's something that feels safe and warm and caring to him about Stiles making sure he's at least eating. He starts leaving notes back to Stiles, telling himself he'll say thank you in person when he feels healed enough. Even if he's not sure when that will be. After inhaling so much wolfsbane in his lungs, Peter doesn't heal right. He heals faster than a human, but not what a wolf should. The scars stay. He grows a beard to hide them. As he puts weight back on from the coma, and then piles on a bit extra with Stiles' constant catering, he notices light stretchmarks showing up across his middle. He isn't sure how to feel about it. ****************** And then romance happens...somehow. Peter goes into the diner more often to see Stiles. Thanks him for the care packages. Stiles fills Peter table with food, seemingly unsure how else to help him, but looks immensely pleased when Peter eats most of it. Peter starts coming daily for months. Then one day he doesn't show for a week. Comes back and apologizes to Stiles that it was the birthday for one of his nieces. Stiles tells him it's okay, it's fine, he can't imagine what Peter went through, and he's...here for whatever Peter needs. Admits Peter is his soulmate and Peter tells Stiles he knew. Polish first name was the first clue- but there's no one else in the town who cared about Peter that much, he knew there had to be a reason. He's sorry Stiles had to wait that long. ********* AND FINALLY KINK:

Peter gets therapy. Stiles spends months reassuring Peter that he doesn't care about the age- admits he's got a bit of a daddy kink and now that Peter has the *daddy* vibes and a hairy, hefty stretchmark ridden belly to match? Stiles is INTO it. He's a little proud and for sure a little smug when Peter blames those stretchmarks on Stiles and his cooking. Or Peter when he eats his feelings and gorges on Stiles' food until his stomach is rumbling and protesting and gassy? Stiles hands him another plate and promises to get him off if he finishes all of it.... They properly date. Peter uses food as his therapy- less nightmares about being in a coma when his gut is stuffed and stretched and feels like he's going to burst. It's a good sort of pain - that reminds him he's awake and alive and he has a mate who is very enthusiastically feeding him more.... And Peter eventually goes back to his cocky self. Snarking at Stiles to bring him more food. Or "try not to pop me, I have enough stretch marks as in" even though Stiles knows Peter LOVES it. The bigger, the better.

[plunderherz]

I wrote a few days ago that I am currently researching Adèle de la Prunarède. And I've actually found something. Something really cool. This post will be extremely long.

I always found it strange that you could find less about a woman who obviously had a reputation and was also a duchess than about my relatively boring peasant ancestors from the Polish hinterland. I haven't worked professionally in the historical sector for a long time, but I do a lot of genealogical research for myself and others...and sometimes the search for clues gets to me ;) I simply love it.

Besides, there seem to be only two pictures of her. A portrait and a miniature. The latter belonged to Liszt and is now in the Liszt Museum in Bayreuth:

There is always the same information about Adèle in Liszt biographies, most of which quote Lina Ramann (sometimes even word for word): ‘But in the Parisian salons Cupid was the charming, the flirting, and seldom the ‘terrible god!’ as Theocritus called him; his arrows did not always cling and wounded, and they struck only a few fatally. One of them, however, stuck more firmly than the others. It came from the witty and coquettish Comtesse Adèle Laprunarède (née de Chelèrd), the future Duchesse de Fleury, who sought to compensate herself in the elegant circles of the faubourg Saint Germain for the boredom she might feel in the country at the side of the already very aged Count, her husband-and she was still so young, so beautiful, so full of life, so esprit-talented!

It was not this arrow, it is true, but it was firm enough for a winter's length to lure him away from Paris to the castle-like castle in the Alps, where she lived with the count. Here he spent several months, probably a whole winter, alone with him and his young wife, as well as with an aunt of the latter, who was already old—a double prisoner. For not only did the fiery eyes, the coquettish, cheerful manner, and the literary and educated spirit of the Countess Laprunaréde hold him under their spell, but outside the weather was stormy, the winds howled, and the snow fell in masses. All the roads were covered with snow, and the inhabitants of the castle lived out of reach of others, like fairytale princes and princesses in an enchanted palace stared at ice, and waited for the spring whose warm breath was to unlock its closed doors. Inside, however, it was secret. The fireside crackled and crackled, and its sparks mingled with the sparkling verbal battles that sprang from golden youthfulness and sparkling fires of love. – They laughed, joked, read, made music. And when the approaching spring kissed snow and ice away from doors and streets, the young artist wandered back to Paris, his heart filled with the romance of love.An eager correspondence now developed between him and the countess—Liszt's first "higher stylistic exercises in the French language," as he later jokingly called it to us. In Paris, however, nothing was known of this tête-a-tête. His heroes preserved the deepest silence—the veil of sweet mystery."

Didn't @franzliszt-official himself dictate this to her beautifully? ;)

Other sources also state that Adèle was 15 years older than Liszt and that it was she who made him a man.

Unfortunately, I can't say anything about the latter (a pity really ;)), but I can say something about her date of birth. According to Généalogie 62 / Généalogie de la Famille Quarre, Adèle Joséphine Vivante Quarre de Chelers was born on 1st February 1808 in Chelers, Pas-de-Calais. That makes her 3 years older than Franz, but that's probably not as wicked as 15 ;) Her father has been a "Capitaine au 2ème Régiment de Carabiniers", her mother an English lady.

Then she married Fulcrand Henri Marie Eugène de Benoist de la Prunarède in 1827, who was 47 when Franz entered the winterly scene in Marlioz, which makes him not exactly as "elderly" as described by anyone else.

Then we meet Adèle again and again in the correspondence between Franz and Marie D'Agoult. Marie receives all the old letters that were exchanged between him and Adèle. Franz often has to justify himself. The de Laprunarède always hangs in the air between them, and at first I always thought: ‘My goodness, Marie, give it a rest now.’ In between, Adéle also turns up in Geneva, there's a juicy story about a riding crop and, at the end, Marie realises with satisfaction that Franz thinks she's somehow got fat.

That was the basis. And then I started searching both at Gallica and in the BNF's main archive. I found a court session from 1848 that left me open-mouthed. I then rang my French friend and asked her if I had understood everything correctly. I did. The whole text can be found here.

And I would like to sincerely apologise to Marie. This is way more than ‘Uh, you banged my boy, I'm jealous.’ Here's the short summary: Adéle was adopted and very protected as a young lady to maintain her market value. Unfortunately, she's young, rich and stubborn and has countless boyfriends. People in the background try to iron out all her escapades, they have to burn her letters and silence others. Then she marries her ‘elderly’ husband, who holds a position at court, and continues to cheat on him, largely undetected, until she accidentally becomes pregnant. Shortly before this, her aunt ( It's an aunt in the Liszt biographies. Probably the same person. Seems like she adopted Adèle.)) has moved in with the couple. In 1836, Adéle then pretends to go to a convent and stays there for a few months until she secretly gives birth in Venice. She then travels around the country with her aunt/mother, writes cheerfully to her husband, postponing her return again and again until she blackmails him, saying she will only come back if he adopts the child and they pretend together that it is his brother's daughter.

Real history is sometimes more awesome than any novel. That was a thrilling read! And since the world at that time was very small (it really was. So many connections everywhere!), I can well imagine that Franz and Marie also knew more than their correspondence reveals...

And the whole negotiation continues to escalate and becomes more and more obscure. It is clear that her husband then no longer felt like it, but he needed her money ;) Since June 1848, the two have been separated. After the death of her husband, she got Marlioz back because she made a clever marriage contract. By the way, my next step is to search the registers of Saconnez (now Saconnex) for her daughter Isidora de Faulat.

And if someone needs help with their genealogy, say something. I'm a freak. ;) I do it for free and have a lot of fun doing it. ;)

@scourgiez I am back with lots of sources...xD

[xoxiu]

twinkle - ot7 x reader

chapter 01 table of contents masterlist

summary: she had just wanted attention, that’s why she kept texting the strange number, updating him on everything in her life. little did she know how dangerous this relationship actually was. it had been jimin’s idea to kidnap the girl, but the ability to travel across the world to actually do it had been all hoseok’s doing. convenient how some things work, right? they knew that they were destined to have their baby with them, whether she wanted it or not.

tags/warnings: kidnapping, forced age regression, spanking, noncon, mafia au, drug use, stockholm syndrome, caregiver!bts, little!reader, nonsexual, diapers, panic attacks, fluff and angst, sickfic, referenced child abuse, unrequited love

a/n: i wrote this fic in 2018 on ao3 and wattpad, but im putting it here for archival reasons ♡

They had used a burner phone to talk to the girl, not wanting to risk her tracing the number back to one of them. It had been Jungkook's idea; he found the girl's Instagram page, where she frequently posted pictures of herself, her dogs, and her friends. A quick DM and an hour later, Jungkook got her phone number and the two were texting daily.

He found out so much about the girl: her name was Ophelia, she lived in a small town in America, her dogs were named Gengi and Jingob, she had a younger brother named Henry and a 6-month-old sister named Rose, her father was Korean and her mother was Israeli. She had naturally dark, curly hair, but she frequently bleached and straightened it (right now it was an adorable baby pink). When she was born, her mother wasn't together with her father, so she was named Ophelia Felicite Potter, but her father forced her mother to change her name to Ophelia Lynn Park once they had officially started dating three months later. Henry, her little brother, was in Junior High, and Ophelia always drove him to school, since their town was so small that their Middle School, High School, and Community College were all in one building. 

Eventually, the rest of the boys began talking to her. All seven of them were pretending to be one person, a 19-year-old named Ian. Of course, Ophelia believed everything 'Ian' said. She had told them that she never had a boyfriend before, and absolutely loved the attention she was receiving for the first time. Even though she was still young, naive, and too trusting, she was still smart- both academically and morally. Whenever 'Ian' asked for nudes, she refused, which both pissed off and pleased the boys.

It was important that Ophelia never found out who they truly were. At least, not yet. The boys were heirs of one of the biggest mafia rings in South Korea, and they all knew that if the girl found out, the fake number would be blocked immediately. Even though the seven of them weren't important members in the business- their fathers and older brothers were more active than them, they were more of the poster kids- they were still expected to keep certain things private in order to keep them safe and their fathers in power. 

They decided that Ophelia would be one of the things they kept private.

'i have a surprise for you in an hour!! :D'

God, the kid was so cute. Seokjin looked down at the phone as the text alert caused the coffee table to gently vibrate. He smiled as he sent his reply.

'Why can't I have the surprise now?'

A moment later Ophelia's reply pinged.

'i'm in class right now and im fairly certain you dont want calculus as your surprise'

'Alright, I'll wait. Do your schoolwork.'

'dont tell me what to do love u xxx'

Seokjin smiled again and put the phone in his pocket. It was currently three in the morning in Seoul, so two in the afternoon Ophelia's time. She gets out of school at 2:25, so it wouldn't be long before Jin received the 'surprise' Ophelia was talking about. 

Jin idly played on his own phone, waiting for another text from the girl, when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned his head towards the noise to find Namjoon approaching him.

"Hyung, what are you doing up?" Namjoon asked, voice deep and rough with sleep. In the back of his mind, he knew he was texting Ophelia, but if something important had happened he wanted to know. 

"Ophelia's getting out of school soon and she has a surprise for us." Namjoon hummed in response. He never was as obsessed with Ophelia as the other boys, but he had talked to her quite a few times. 

Jin grabbed Namjoon's hand and guided him to lay on the couch with him. Namjoon immediately curled into his boyfriend, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne. One of Jin's hands began stroking the younger's hair while the other continued aimlessly scrolling through his emails. 

Namjoon quickly fell asleep again, and the burner phone pinged soon after that. Jin carefully took the phone out of his back pocket, trying not to wake his sleeping beauty, and became excited as he saw Ophelia had sent a picture message. He quickly opened the messaging app and cooed at what the girl had sent. 

She had sent a mirror picture of her in a dress. The dress was a flowing red ball gown with gold accents on the waist. Ophelia looked absolutely beautiful in it, and Jin quickly saved the picture to send to his real phone. 

'prom is in a month and i really wish i could go with you. what do you think of this dress? someone told me this shade of red suits me but idk'

Prom. Ophelia would be going to prom with someone other than Jin or one of the other boys. While one of them taking her was unrealistic and impossible, it still pained him to think that it wouldn't be him. 

'You look stunning. I wish I could see it in person.'

'&lt;;3 :)'

Jin put the phone back on the table, smiled, and closed his eyes. He was absolutely whipped.

Once the rest of the boys woke up, the dress was the main discussion at breakfast.

"I think she looks adorable in it," Taehyung said, "Just look at her face in the picture- it's obvious she's in love with it, too."

"But its too mature for her! It shows off too much!" Jimin said, his voice distressed. 

"Jimin, she's not our baby yet. Once we have her then you can decide what is and isn't too big for her," said Namjoon. 

For the past month, they had been preparing a plan to bring Ophelia to Korea with them. They wanted her to be their Little, and them be her Daddies. Some of them were more excited than others (Jin and Jimin were both ecstatic about this), but all of them had warmed up to the idea. Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung had gone crazy over putting together a nursery and clothes shopping. It had been easy to find childlike clothes in Ophelia's size, including a car seat, since Ophelia was rather small for her age. 

They had decided what they would be called almost as soon as they got the idea of Ophelia being a Little. Namjoon and Jin would be the main caregivers, with Namjoon being Appa and Jin being Eomma. Yoongi and Jimin would also be her caretakers, Yoongi being Daddy and Jimin being Mommy. Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook would be less of caretakers and more of playmates, but they still wanted to spend time with Ophelia. 

Luckily, they had a business meeting in America in two weeks, which would be relatively close to where Ophelia lives (thanks to careful mapping done by Jungkook), so they could take her and bring her home with them with ease. The boys knew Ophelia would have a much better life with them.

[uniquecellest]

More Adashi AU

- Adam talks to Shiro while Shiro pilots the Atlas, Adam says some words that feel like a goodbye and Shiro calls out to him. He thinks Adam is dead (Adam was able to evacuate his plane before it crashed with the Galra)

- Upon hearing that the Galra are coming, Shiro and Adam argue over Adam being involved

- Once the quartet of Matt, Adam, Shiro, and Keith are reunited Matt and Keith hound Shiro like annoying brothers for leaving Adam and Keith behind

- Adam saying the words "we're going to get you to the medbay and once you're all healed up we're going to have a sparring match where I throw you around like a rag doll" / "don't ever worry me like that again. I don't know if I can ever take a loss like that again"

-Adam infiltrates Galra forces and travels with them in space. Shiro can't believe what he sees when he thinks Adam is willingly working with Galra

-with Kerberos being considered a bust bc of "pilot error" The Garrison wants to send others into space to retrieve the Kerberos crew. Voltron crew finds Adam's ship just floating in space with no life force seeming to be inside. They investigate to find Adam on the floor and alone. Turns out there's barely enough oxygen for even a new born let alone a grown adult (bonus if Adam's ship was hit with quintessence); Shiro refuses to leaves Adam's side while he's in the healing pod

-Adam somehow being used to help power the Galras main ship that attacked earth like some Alteans were

-They never confessed their feelings so when Shiro is determined to go on Kerberos Adam just sits with his feelings and waits; both thinking they've missed their chance with the other (cue Matt, Keith and Pidge trying to get them together when they reunite)

-Soulmate/soul marks AU where Shiro and Adam do not meet until Shiro comes back from space

- (shout to Chibi-pix for this one) Adam is like a brother figure to Pidge which results in Keith and Pidge being siblings causing Iverson to lose his mind bc Keith and Pidge are Matt and Shiro 2.0s (Lord help him when an Adam 2.0 enters the picture); Adam and Shiro are blissfully aware of their siblings antics but act like they aren't

-Kuron goes to Earth and kidnaps Adam

-Shiro is forced to choose between Keith and Adam

- They start off as a one-sided rivalry until an incident forces them together and they start to get to know each other

-more patient Adam and reckless Shiro

-Adam joins the Blade of Marmora where he runs into Keith (Adam still thinks Shiro is dead) Adam is with him in the two years in the Abyss and reunites with Shiro when Keith returns to the Paladins

-Eros!Adam and Psyche!Shiro

-Teen Titans AU where Shiro is Cyborg and Adam is Bumblebee (points for Kuron being Brother Blood)

-Camp Half-Blood demigod Shiro and Camp Jupiter Half-Blood Adam

-Adam and Matt get buried alive and Shiro is a reck trying to find them (Adam) so they don't die

-Baker/Cook Adam and Shiro who can't boil water without setting it on fire

-Adam and Shiro swap roles (neither are dead though)

-Shiro and Adam meeting once when they were kids but not meeting again until they are older. Both remember but Adam acts like he doesn't recall it at all

-Both are cadets and one has a significant other while the other is pining hard (s/a with the significant other doesn't last long, significant other also happens to be mutuals with Adam and Shiro)

-Shiro trains and gets a bad bruise on his neck that everyone thinks is a hickey until Adam returns from a trip (cue Keith defending Shiro but the other Paladins and co think maybe Shiro cheated)

-Shiro confesses to Adam one night but acts like he doesn't remember it then he and Adam spiral in their feelings