#i made my name stamp too big but its too late to go back now!

[anris-resurrection]

keepin it red

and alternative versions:

[thrawns-backrest]

Polished this up a bit and decided to post it. I have so much Ghost Prison content lying around, I may as well release it into the void. (Thank you to @russiankartoshka and @random-user753 for being my first readers and putting up with my ramblings.)

___

Gone

It had all started that morning when they had identified Shens’ body. Or maybe identified would be a wrong way to put it. Each cadet had a number stamped onto the inside of their glove – another morbid but ultimately prudent suggestion of his father’s. And with his face blown off by a blaster bolt and body trampled by debris, they might have never recognized it was Shens until the final count was made.

That had been bad enough.

But for Laurita to be missing as well on top of it…

Caul’s hands shook as he rubbed them together and wiped them against his thighs. He needed to get ahold of himself. He’d been hoping, maybe a bit too eagerly, to find Laurita curled up in the pilot’s seat, cold, hungry and a little bit miserable but safe.  

Safe and sound if undoubtedly furious.

Because contrary to popular belief, Laurita did have a temper, Caul had caught glimpses of it when that damned guard of his was down (because Caul paid attention) and he was clever. Clever enough to figure out something big was going on even from inside the fighter and clever enough to realize he was being left out of it.

Perhaps his father’s judgement really had been askew this time. Caul remembered their last conversation about it. ‘Too young and too hurt’ his father had said and in a sense he was right. It was unfortunate but Laurita’s past was what it was and he would have a hard time grasping why they were willing to disturb the Empire’s peace and sacrifice so many in the name of change or at least so his father thought.

Deep down however Caul suspected his father underestimated just how much Laurita admired him and how willing he was to follow him anywhere.

In any case it was too late to go back now. He shook his head and headed for the turbolifts, still haunted by the sight of the gutted fighter out on that landing pad. 

At the very least, he’d been spared the scenario of finding Laurita’s minced body splattered across the windshield – that might have been too much to bear. It still baffled him how anyone could take that risk knowing the prototype’s tendency to malfunction but then again this was Laurita. And that spoke for itself.

He met with his assigned escort – his father had refused to let him go alone – and spent the trip back to headquarters in mute agonizing silence, trying not to let his disquiet show. The world was falling apart and rearranging itself all around them, the very heart of the Galaxy in disarray as the new status quo settled and the turmoil of the coup produced its final ripples. And here Caul was, unable to think of anything but his best friend. It was absurd. But then again his composure felt like it may fail him completely if he tried to think of anything else.

Heading up to the control room was another small eternity and it was both a relief and a punch to the gut to see his father’s stoic face turn to meet him when he arrived.

“He’s gone,” Caul blurted the moment he was inside and watched the brief contraction of Gentis’ lips as he took in the news.

It smoothed out soon after, restoring Gentis’ impenetrable calm.

“That is unfortunate…” his father mumbled, something thoughtful creeping into his tone.

Caul was grateful, now more than ever, that his father chose not to point out that this was his fault. Making sure Laurita was safe and out of harm’s way was his responsibility.

And he’d failed at it spectacularly.

“He used the ejection mechanism to get out. The fighter’s emergency protocols must have overridden our hacking.”

Gentis stood there for a moment, rubbing a finger against his chin before sighing.

“I suppose we should have guessed.”

This had always been a potential danger – Laurita taking things into his own hands and wreaking havoc on their plans. Only they were supposed to have contained that danger.

Caul fortified his resolve.

“I want to try and find him,” he said firmly and met his father’s gaze. He could see the old man’s cogs turning, weighing the risk of letting their unpredictable prodigy roam free against the need to keep their resources close and available. At length, Gentis shook his head and turned back to the console in front of him.

“Now is not the time. And even if we do send out a team, I need you here next to me.”

Caul felt a petulant stubbornness set in.

“I know Laurita better than anyone,” he dug his heels in.

“Oh? So you can tell me where he might have gone?”

The words struck him like a whip and his throat tightened as his confidence promptly decided to flee him. Because his father was right. He could claim he knew Laurita’s strategies best, having observed and studied them firsthand for months back in the academy but even then he had no clue where Laurita might be now.

The most likely trajectory of the ejected seat would put him right in the thick of the fighting and in close proximity to where their troops had unleashed the second stage of their attack, the toxic gas… There was a high chance his body lay among the hordes of others, having slowly choked to death along with them. Yet Caul still felt the urge to go down there and check for himself.

A single glimpse of bright red hair would suffice. Just to give him some closure.

Part of him knew he was being ridiculous – a disappointment to his father who relied on him to go into this with a cool head – but another part knew why this was so important. He needed to know he wasn’t responsible for Laurita’s death.

Shens was dead. Many of the men he knew and spent the past near one year of his life alongside were dead. Yet somehow it all paled in the face of making sure Laurita wasn’t one of them, that Caul’s own blunders hadn’t prevented him from seeing him again and getting the chance to apologize.

Maybe someday he would find the time to be ashamed of that. Today wasn’t that day. But it was also the most important day of their lives, for him, his father and their new Empire, and when all was said and done, Caul understood that.

“I’m sorry, father…” He lowered his head, shame prickling under his skin. “I understand.”

The hardness in his father’s eyes softened at that and Caul felt a heavy comforting hand settle on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry too much.” Gentis said, a clear undertone of approval to his words. “Laurita has a knack for staying alive. When all of this is over you can find him and try to get him to understand our point of view.”

And if he’s dead? Caul’s mind added bitterly but he pushed the thought away. There was no way Gentis hadn’t taken that possibility into account. Because he knew better than anyone that any of them could end up dead before the day was over – Laurita included. That was the burden his father bore and the burden Caul was supposed to help him carry as his last remaining son.

His own personal needs, such as making sure his friend was alive and well and still on their side… those came after.

And if by any chance Laurita survived and came back to them? Well, Caul would have to prove himself a man worthy of his father’s legacy to deserve the chance to be forgiven. And the only way to do that was to make sure their new Empire lived to see another day.

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

[where-theres-smoak-2]

10 Little Things I Missed in JATP The First Time Around.

So after binge watching Julie and the Phantoms in one day naturally the first thing I did was go back and watch it all over again and on the rewatches I noticed some things that I didn’t the first time around. Now I’m a few months late to the party so most of these are probably things that most people have already spotted but I figured I’d share them with you anyway just because I love how much detail they put into this show and I need to fangirl about it lol. Obviously there are spoilers. 

1) Missing Persons. In episode 1 when the boys are eating the hotdogs, behind luke you can see his missing person poster showing that his parents were looking for him and trying to get him to come home which is honestly just heartbreaking and tears at my soul. 

2) Signs, all the Signs. In episode 2 when they go to check on reggie’s parents and find the bike shop the name of the bike shop is ‘Petals on the Beach’. Julie’s mum was in a band named ‘Rose and the Petal Pushers.’ Then in episode 5 when we see Willie at the Hollywood Ghost Club we can see that he has a flower pin on his jacket. 

I don’t know for sure if it’s a dahlia or not but it does look like it is to me. Then in episode 6 when Luke goes to see his parents there is a vase of Dahlia’s on the counter behind them. Obviously these flowers link to Julie’s mum and I think it’s interesting that these three things are being linked to Julie’s mum. My theory is that these are connected to each of the boys unfinished business somehow and Rose is leaving hints for the boys. I also think their unfinished business might link back in someway to their parents. We know that they all left their parents on bad terms. Reggie’s parents were having troubles and were close to divorce, Alex’s weren’t accepting of his sexual orientation and Luke ran away leaving on bad terms. We’ve seen a little bit of resolution in Luke’s regard but the other two still haven’t had any. I also don’t think its any one thing that’s their unfinished business but more like a collection of milestones they need to resolve. 

3) Fire, Water and Leather Vests. In episode 6 when the band performs finally free Julie is wearing her mum’s vest, its the same one we see Rose wearing in episode 1 when she meets sunset curve. 

Since then either rose or julie has added doodles to it. One of the doodles looks like flames, fire is a symbol of rebirth or resurrection. Another of the doodles looks like waves/ water. Water is a symbol of both life and freedom which makes it kind of perfect for a song called ‘finally free’.  

There is more fire symbolism in Stand Tall with the special effects behind the band showing fire like imagery. Throughout the performance it shows glowing embers and fireworks. 

Which is also similar to the firery effect made by the lights in the background of their Finally Free performance. 

These along with other symbols of rebirth and resurrection is obviously connected to how the boys were brought back to ‘life’ again by Julie but also how they brought Julie back to life too. 

4) More Doodles. Again sticking with episode 6 when we see Julie drawing on her microphone she is drawing a birthday cake which is meant for Luke. We know that she only seems to draw things that are important to her on the microphone the other doodles include a rose and a dahlia obviously symbolic of her mother, the words double trouble which links her to Flynn, the words I’ve got the music and music notes, this is her connection to music. Then the final thing she draws on it is the birthday cake which shows how Luke is important to her. I also think its important that she does this right after learning more about him and seeing a deeper side to him, I do think this is when her feelings for him really deepened. 

5)  Braided Together. This is one that I think alot of people noticed but the braids in Julie’s hair in both I got the Music and Stand Tall are the colours of the three boys, red, blue and pink. Again showing how intertwined all of their souls are with each other and with music. I think it very much represents how the boys brought music back into her life.

6) The Power of Purple. Both Caleb and Julie have the rare power of being able to make ghosts visible to lifers and most likely have other mystical powers too if that last scene with the band glowing and being able to be touched by Julie is any indication. Both of them wear the colour purple. 

The colour purple symbolises magic, mystery and spirituality. I do feel like Julie and Caleb are the opposite sides of the same coin. They both posess similar powers but they are using them for very different reasons. I think they very much represent the living and the dead. Julie kind of brings people back to life whereas Caleb draws people to the otherside, the afterlife. 

7) Greek Mythology. Speaking of the afterlife, in episode 5 when at the Hollywood Ghost Club, Caleb encourages the boys to eat some food, on first watch this just came across as a kinda funny scene but when I rewatched it I realised something. I actually think this is a nod at the myth of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds. In greek mythology if you ate or drank anything in the underworld then you would be trapped there forever. Obviously we know not long after eating Caleb brands the boys with his club stamp forcing them to make the decision of joining his band for eternity or being destroyed by the jolts. He decieves them just as Hades decieves Persephone.  

8) Full Circle. Both the band’s first performance (Bright) and last (stand tall) starts with Julie on stage alone unknowing that the boys are going to show up. In the first performance she doesn’t know yet that they can be visible when on stage with her and in Stand tall she thinks they have been destroyed by the jolts already. It brings her journey full circle. 

9) Maternal Ties. The first time we see Luke perform and the last he has the same scarf tied around his arm.

He also has this same scarf in his back pocket during finally free both the performance and the episode as a whole. My theory is that the scarf belonged to his mother. During Unsaid Emily when you see him packing and arguing with his mother the scarf is in his back pocket. You can see it in his back pocket again during unsaid emily when he is singing as a ghost if that makes sense. 

It tends to show up, from what I can tell, either when Luke is having a big moment like the night that was suppose to be sunset curve’s big break at the Orpheum or Julie and the Phantoms performance at the Orpheum. Or when it has something to do with his mother like in episodes Finally Free and Unsaid Emily. I think he carries it as a good luck charm. 

10) Butterflies and Roses. In episode 7 during the edge of great performance the butterflies on julie’s top are the colours of the band. Red for Reggie, blue for Luke, pink for Alex and purple for Julie. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation and again another symbol of rebirth and resurrection. Also during the final performance Reggie has butterflies and flowers on his vest. Luke has roses on his guitar strap (also skulls but lets ignore that for now) and Alex has a rose in his suit jacket. 

Again the butterflies are symbolising the rebirth of the group but also could be to do with that transformation the boys go through at the end where they can now be touched. (I have soo many questions about that scene.) Also we have the roses which again shows the link to Rose and how she brought Julie and the boys together. 

Like I said I’m sure most of these are really obvious but I get excited about little details like these and the producers really did do an amazing job at weaving them throughout the show. I’m sure there are even more that I’ve missed so if you know of anymore please feel free to enlighten me. Still keeping my fingercrossed for a season 2.

 Edit: I found more fun little details and yes I am obsessed, part 2 can be read here if anyone is interested. 

[blueskrugs]

Tim McGraw | Brock Boeser

ahhhh! this is the first fic of the swift series! I can’t believe I am actually going to try and pull this off for the next five months. I hope you guys like it and big shoutout to @broadstbroskis for being my sounding board throughout all this fic planning and then beta-ing this!

length: 1.6k words

But when you think Tim McGraw,  I hope you think my favorite song

Falling in love with Brock was easy. 

It was the summer before your sophomore year of college, on the precipice of both your lives changing, though neither of you knew it at the time. 

Time seemed to move slower that summer, long sunny days blending into bonfire nights out by the lake, September nothing more than a distant day on the calendar. You watched as Brock’s hair turned more blond and his shoulders turned more tan, hours outside in the sun doing their job. 

You remembered the first time Brock kissed you; you weren’t sure it was something you’d ever forget. You’d spent weeks dancing around each other, learning each other, had spent an entire Fourth of July party practically glued to each other’s sides. It seemed more than inevitable by the time it finally happened.

He called you late one night, woke you up and begged you to meet him down at the lakefront. You went, because of course you did, met him down at the dock, where he was waiting with a pile of blankets in the speedboat his family used. He tossed you one of his UND hoodies with a grin before helping you onto the boat. You settled into the nest of blankets in the prow as Brock carefully steered the boat out from the dock and into the middle of the lake. 

It was a clear night, the stars and the full moon shining brightly against the still, dark lake, and a quiet one. The only sounds filling the air were the quiet hum of the boat’s motor and Brock’s country playlist playing quietly from his phone, neither quite loud enough to drown out the constant buzz of the cicadas. 

Brock cut the motor and came to sit behind you. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He was warm and solid behind you, and you were both quiet for a moment, just listening to the music.

“This is one of my favorite songs,” you murmured, as Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” started filtering through the speakers.

“I know,” Brock said simply. You didn’t remember telling him that. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calm. 

You were caught up in trying to remember when you’d told Brock your favorite song when he shifted a little behind you. You twisted in his arms to see what was the matter, but then he was kissing you, softly in the moonlight, and you didn’t get the chance.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted after he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned across your face when he breathed out a sigh. Tim McGraw was still playing somewhere behind you.

“I would’ve let you,” you said back.

Brock breathed out a laugh and kissed you again, one hand tangled in your hair, the other still wrapped around your waist.

And I was right there beside him all summer long,  And then the time we woke up to find that summer gone

For all that that summer seemed endless while it was happening, it ended abruptly, shattering the peaceful love you and Brock had been building out on the lake. 

You snuck out one last time, both of you dressed in something other than a swimsuit for once, spent the night in each other’s arms with your bare feet dangling in the lake off the dock, the stars and the moon lighting your way once again.

You weren’t sure you’d ever look at the summer stars the same way when you were older.

Brock went back to UND. Your family moved away from Minnesota. Summer romances were never meant to last, you told yourself, as you left yours in the dust.

Brock promised he would keep in touch, pressed a green UND hoodie into your hands and a goodbye kiss to your lips. You smiled at him, because you knew it would never last, and it didn’t. Brock had other things to focus on, hockey and his future. It was only a matter of time until he forgot you. 

You spent a lot of time wearing that hoodie he gave you in the beginning, more time than you cared to admit. You spent more time crying than you cared to admit, too. You kept wearing it long after it stopped smelling like Brock and summer, until it was almost nothing to you and the comfort of it was gone. Almost.

Brock’s texts trickled to a stop before Christmas, but you couldn’t blame him. You’d always had a feeling that this– whatever this had been– had meant more to you than it had to him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop following him, though, not even when your friends and family gave you pitying looks, not when UND got booted out of the championship tournament. “He’s just a boy,” they’d say, but they also say you never forget your first love, don’t they? You watched his first NHL game, at home in Minnesota, his first NHL goal, too. And if you cried a little, well, at least there was no else around to see it. 

Years passed, and, slowly, you moved on. Brock’s sweatshirt made its way to the back of your closet. You fell in love again, fell out of love. Stopped loving Brock. You graduated college. You never did go back to the lake, wondered if Brock ever had. If he’d waited for you, or if he’d moved in and found another girl to spend the summer with. For the most part, you forgot about Brock. Forgot about his laugh, about the way he’d roll his eyes when you teased him. How he knew your favorite songs. You did your best to, at least. It was easier said than done for a long time.

But in a box beneath my bed, there’s a letter that you never read from three summers back It’s hard not to find it all a little bittersweet...

You were cleaning out your old bedroom at your parents’ house when you found it. It was a letter you’d written to Brock after that summer, when you were confused and lonely, filled with all the things that you didn’t have the courage to say to his face. It was in an envelope, addressed and stamped, but you’d never planned on sending it. In all the chaos of moving that fall, it had gotten thrown in a box and shoved under your bed to be forgotten. 

You remembered every word you’d written, but you carefully pulled it out anyway. You read that letter again and again over the next few days, always pausing on the last words you wrote before you signed your name: “I love you.”

It was another several days before you pulled out a clean sheet of paper and a pen, wrote a continuation to that letter. You’d loved Brock once, yes, but you didn’t anymore, not in the same way. There were no tears left in this story. He’d always be your first love, and you’d always want the best for him. You just no longer felt your heart break every time you thought of him, and you hadn’t for a long time. 

You hoped that he was happy out there in Vancouver, living his dream.

And there’s a letter left on your doorstep, And the first thing that you’ll read...

“Brock, there’s a letter for you!” his mom called through the house.

“Who sends letters anymore?” he asked, which earned him a smack with the envelope. He took it from his mom anyway. The return address was unfamiliar, out-of-state, and there was no name, but he felt like he’d seen the handwriting somewhere before. He took the envelope out on the back deck with Coolie, carefully slid his thumb under the flap and opened it.

A picture slid out from in-between two folded pieces of paper when he tugged them out. It took only a quick glance at it to tell him exactly who had sent him this letter. It was a picture of the two of you at that Fourth of July party you’d spent together all those summers ago. Brock had spent the entire day trying not to kiss you right there in front of everyone.

Brock smiled at the picture for a moment. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, your hands reaching up to grasp his. You were both laughing at some joke long forgotten. He didn’t even remember anyone taking the picture. He carefully set it aside to turn his attention to the letter. He read in silence as the afternoon sun slowly dipped lower in the sky. Coolie was off somewhere in the grass, having found a stick to chew on.

Brock read the letter, then again. He stared at your name on the bottom of each page for a minute before carefully refolding them. He whistled once for Coolie, who came running, still carrying the stick. 

“Where are you off to?” his mom asked as he made his way back into the house and grabbed his car keys.

“For a drive.”

When you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me

The letter was tossed in his glovebox. Brock plugged in his aux, pulled up Spotify, and scrolled all the way down to his country playlist. There was a song on there he didn’t listen to very often, could never really explain why he always skipped it, but right now he clicked on it and turned the volume up.

“Always stay humble and kind,” sang Tim McGraw as he put his car and drive and allowed himself to remember, just this once.

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Driving. (Day eight)

I'm alive!!! Kind off... Idk school is though. I am sorry for disappearing last week was the end of the bimester so I had finals and late homework that was stressing me out, but I'm back now!

Anyways, this is part two of the Twins AU

@biodad-bruce-month

Masterlist

Twins AU Part two

The Wayne manor buzzed with nervous energy as all its residents waited for the arrival of one  Marinette Dupain-cheng.

Despite Damian's threats, the moment Bruce found out about his daughter he contacted her and made arrangements to have her visit America on her school break.

And now that the day has arrived.

"Well, I think we should all prepare in case she turns out to be a female version of demon spawn." Jason said, trying to break the silence, and maybe make Damian angry in the process. Ever since Marinette confirmed that she was going to Gotham Damian had been acting strange, and it was honestly scaring Jason.

Damian lunged at him, "I dare you to say that again Todd!" He yelled, while grabbing him by his collar. Ah, there he is the Damian they know and love.

"Get it off me!" Jason shrieked. 

Dick, the peacemaker,  tried to pull Damian away but it was proving to be a rather difficult task.

That's when Bruce walked into the room. 

He stopped when he saw Jason and Damian wrestling on the floor as Dick tried to stop them. Meanwhile, Tim stared blankly at the wall with an empty mug on his hand. 

Bruce wanted nothing more than to simply walk out, pretend his children weren't crazy. 

but unfortunately as a father he couldn't do that.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce opened his mouth to scold them. But before he got the chance he was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. 

Everyone froze, Tim getting so startled that he dropped his mug. "That was my favorite mug," he whimpered, looking down at the shattered pieces sadly.

They all gaped as a petite 16-year-old girl walked in dragging a ginormous suitcase with Alfred at her tail begging Marinette to let him help her with the luggage.

"Grandpa Alfie, thank you for offering but I'm fine." She said.

"Grandpa Alfie?" Dick asked.

Marinette grinned, "Well yeah, Dami told me how he took care of our father when he was young. So, he's Grandpa Alfie!" She replied cheerfully. "Anyways, you must be… Grayson? So… Dick! Nice to meet you! I'm Marinette." 

Marinette stretched out her hand, but Dick hugged her instead. "I think you're my new favorite, baby sister."

"I'll have you know that I'm older than Dami." Marinette said with a pout. Then laughed when Dick ruffled her hair. "Speaking of Dami..." Marinette looked around the room until her eyes landed on her twin. 

Damian walked over to her, and to everyone's surprise, gave her a small awkward hug. "Nice to see you Mari." Then he smirked, “and you aren't older. We were in a artificial womb so it hardly counts"

Marinette giggled. "You're just bitter that I'm older by two full minutes."

Jason looked at the two in confusion. "Mari? Dami? I- I think I need to lay down." Placing the back of his hand against his forehead as if trying to take his own temperature. "Demon spawn has a twin who is pure sunshine, and… and they have nicknames for each other. Bruce, I think we somehow ended up in an alternate reality. " He concluded dramatically.

"Demon spawn? Wow Dami, I also heard that they call you Ice prince. That's some reputation you got." Marinette teased. Damian glared at Jason. "And you are… Jason?" Marinette guessed.

Jason nodded. "Yep" 

Marinette looked at his leather jacket, more specifically the tears and stains that were clearly not caused intentionally for fashion's sake, in disdain. "You need a new jacket." 

The look in Jason's face was priceless.

Both Dick and Tim laughed, and Damian looked amused as Jason sputtered. 

"Lucky for you, I made you one!" Marinette said, ignoring the laughs. "In fact I made you all something plus a suit for the upcoming gala." Marinette grabbed the bag that held all the gifts and handed them out.

Tim looked at his "Coffee flows through my veins" hoodie. "I have to agree with Dick, Marinette is my favorite sibling now. This is amazing." 

Marinette smiled as the rest thanked her. "Oh and Grandpa Alfie, I have something for you too, but I'll give it to you later." She added with a wink. 

That's when Marinette finally seemed to realize that her father was in the room. Her father who had been standing back in the shadows watching her interact with her siblings.

Marinette blinked at him. "Uh… i- it's nice to me-meet you Dad." When he said nothing, Marinette started to freak out. "It's it okay to call you Dad? I mean you are my father… b-but if not that's fine." Bruce's cold shell cracked at the girls rambles. 

What was it that Jason called her? Sunshine? It definitely fit her, especially after he smiled at her. She lit up and gave him a smile so bright that it could rival the sun.

Bruce couldn't quite understand it, but there was something special about that girl that made a person want to wrap her up in bubble wrap and protect her and love her. Looking around at everyone in the room Bruce could tell that everyone thought the same.

"It's alright, you can call me dad. It's nice to finally meet you too, I do wish that Damian hadn't kept you a secret." He said the last part while shooting a glare at his son.

Marinette laughed at that and playfully nudged her brother. "I know right? I wanted to meet all of you before, but grumpy cat here wouldn't let me." She poked Damian's face.

Surprisingly, Damian didn't snap or… bite her. Which is what was sure to happen had it been anyone else doing it. Instead, he just grumbled and glared at the floor.

"Now that we are talking about secrets…" Marinette reached into her pocket and pulled out a small drawstring sack. "I wanted to give you this," she said to Bruce as she handed him the sack. He dropped the object that was inside into his hand, then looked at his daughter in confusion.

Marinette grinned mischievously, "Damian was no help when I was trying to figure out what to give you, so I made you two suits. But then I found this and I thought it would be a perfect addition." She explained.

Everyone watched as Bruce looked at the little plastic toy and. "Is… is this a toy stamp?" He asked.

"Yup! It has a cute little bat on it."

"I- uh thank you?" He said, still looking confused.

Marinette laughed. "Like I said, blame Damian. But I mean you can use it to… well I don't know… sign notes? Use it if you save a child to brighten their day? If you can't adopt them?" At that, everyone except Alfred and Damian burst out laughing. "I just found it and it reminded me that my dad dresses like a bat and goes out to save the city at night, so I thought I would give it to you." Marinette said.

Jason was probably the one laughing the hardest, "I- I am vengeance" he choked out between laughs. "I am the night… I AM BATMAN… a- and… I… HAVE A BAT-STAMP TO PROVE IT."

They all broke down laughing. 

Alfred took the stamp from Bruce and said, "I shall add this to your utility belt, Master Bruce." 

Bruce shook his head, it seemed like his daughter would fit right in with the family.

"Ooo are you going to the batcave? That's where you keep the batmobile right?" Bruce nodded. "Can I drive it some day? I can drive you know." Marinette asked.

Bruce chuckled, "You really are Damian's twin."

Marinette smiled. "Yeah, but knowing him he didn't do this when he asked." She proceeded to stick out her lip a bit in a small pout and look up at him with big, seemingly innocent, eyes.

"That must be the so-called 'puppy eyes' Mari talked about." Damian mused. 

And they worked.

~♡~♡~♡~ Tag List ~♡~♡~♡~

If you want to be tagged please let me know!

@coffeecaffineandeverythinginbtwn, @ramos123 , @certainmuffinbagelcalzone , @thatonecroc , @bakergirl13 , @dast218 , @tomanyfandomsonmymind ,  @alysrose-starchild , @greatcatblaze , @trippingovermyfeet ,@starlightshield , @just-reblogs-by-h , @cresentmo0n , @witchsblackfox , @chocolatecatstheron , @indecisive-mess-named-me , @justafanwarrior , @slytherin-heartthrob , @demonicbusiness , @toodaloo-kangaroo , @iamablinkmarvelarmy , @queencommonsense , @maribat-is-lifeblood , @redscarlet95 , @bran-thecreeper-stark , @laurcad123 , @lizziejay , @animegirlweeb , @maleive07 , @zeneralla , @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl 

[chaseatinydream]

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (i) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 7146

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

>>>

Park Seonghwa is, decidedly, what most of the school population would call a bad boy.

With his jet black lip piercing and dyed blonde hair that is clearly in rebellion against every dress code in school, he’s exactly the sort of boy your parents warn you against. The black leather jacket he wears in place of his uniform tie and blazer doesn’t really help his image at all, and you’re sure you’ve seen him step into school at precisely twelve in the afternoon from the window of your classroom, long after lessons have started.

You’ve known Seonghwa for a long time, since elementary school, back in the days when his hair was still its natural shade of soft ebony and his lips curved up in a soft smile instead of the thin, sharp line it does now. With silent eyes you’ve observed him over the years, watching as the death of his mother struck him as hard as a speeding car and doing a million times the damage, witnessing his transformation from the boy with the cute, candy like smile to the young man with hard, cold eyes and even steelier fists.

A few years, your heart broke for him as you watched him turn away from the light and walk into the shadows without a backwards glance, casting his life away into a hopeless abyss. But as time passed, the memory of that young, lost boy reaching out for his mother’s hand faded, replaced by bruised and bleeding knuckles, split lips and cold eyes.

You had stopped keeping track of how many piercings he’d gotten when you couldn’t count them on your fingers anymore.

Students whisper about him behind closed doors every time he passes them in the corridor, citing unknown sources and rumours about smoking, gang fights, drugs, the usual deal. Girls chatter mindlessly about his good looks, he’s strikingly handsome, you have to admit, but his arctic gaze is enough to keep them at least five feet away. No one dares to cross him, not even the teachers and school authority, and honestly, it’s a miracle he’s still even in this school.

He’s part of a circle of friends the school calls ATEEZ. Their leader, Kim Hongjoong, has kept his mullet for the last three years of high school, completely ignoring the repeated warnings that the school gives him, because who dares to touch him anyway as the eldest son of one of the richest men in Korea? Some you know by face, some by name, but you’ve never met, much less talked to any of them before. Instead, you keep your distance, not wanting to be mixed up in their troubles when they come roaring into school with jet black motorbikes, smirks and bruised fists.

It’s been exactly six years since Seonghwa’s mother passed, and you’re walking to school in the morning. Your earbuds are plugged in, the radio’s on and you’re just listening mindlessly to anything that comes over the station, scrolling through your Instagram feed. Oh. San is considering adopting his third stray cat, the ‘vote yes or no’ option beneath his story.

You click ‘no’, your best friend already has two stray cats and a Shiba Inu in his house, and Shiber is terrified of the felines. It’s a miracle how Shiber even got used to Darong and Puchi, but you doubt that he’ll get used to yet another stray invading his personal territory.

Turning and entering the back gate, you’re stepping across the grounds to your classroom block when your phone suddenly pings with a flurry notifications.

It can only be one person.

[Green Mountain] how could u not let me adopt yobu hes gonna be so sad u know TT

[Green Mountain] retribution on you and your kids and your grandkids and your great grandkids

[Green Mountain] why are we even friends

You roll your eyes, feet crunching on the dry leaves under the soles of your shoes as you type out a reply.

[You] What’s the point of asking for my opinion if you’ve already named him and adopted him San

You’re nearing the back of the school building when you hear a sniffing sound. You pause in your tracks for a moment, wondering if someone is crying from the stress of the exams that are coming in a week, before a soft achoo reaches your ears.

You barely have time to be surprised before the little sneeze is followed by a rapid series of more, each sounding more adorable to your ears than the ones before. There’s another sniffle and a sneeze, and you can’t help your lips curving up in a smile. Perhaps spending too much time around San has made you soft, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You fish out a handkerchief from your pocket, since it’s the first day of the week, you haven’t used it yet. The person behind the noise must have gotten a cold from the chilly autumn weather, so you think they might appreciate the gesture. Stepping up the stairs to your classroom block, you turn the corner around the building with your handkerchief outstretched and a gentle smile already in place.

“Hey, I heard you were sneezing so I thought you might want this...” Your voice trails off as your eyes widen, seeing the infamous Park Seonghwa leaning against the wall, hand over his mouth and nose, your own shock mirrored on his face.

For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other in stunned silence.

You’ve always admired him in the same way people appreciate statues in art museums, from afar, studying each and every feature but never quite understanding the full story behind the carved jawline, the sculpted nose, the mysterious dark eyes. But this is the first time you’re seeing him up close in the dappled morning rays, someone so far away and untouchable, and you see the flaws that mar what you had once thought was near perfect skin, a bruise at the corner of his mouth, a scrape on his cheekbone, the white scar across his left eyebrow.

His handsome features pinch into a wary scowl when he sees you, straightening up his originally relaxed position against the wall. You’re a little intimidated by his height as he towers over you by at least a head, giving you a dark glare. “Get out of my sight. I don’t need your help-” The words are cut off by a massive sneeze that sends him burying his face in his hands, before he starts hacking furiously, alternating between adorable sneezes and baby-like coughs.

A snort escapes you before you can stop it and he actually pauses to give you a murderous look, right before he goes back to sneezing.

Oh my god, you think in your panic induced haze, he’s going to kill you to stop rumours of his childlike sneeze from spreading around the school.

You fight down the urge to laugh in this terrifying situation, instead focusing on the predicament you’re in. You’re trapped between a rock and a hard place, right before a person with one of the most feared and sordid reputations in the entire school. Give him the handkerchief and risk his anger, or leave without lending him a hand and still perhaps bring his wrath down upon you?

In the end, you simply do what you had set out to do in the first place.

“Here!” You practically shout in his face, trying to muster as much courage as possible so your voice doesn’t tremble, but it betrays you anyway in spite of your efforts. Thrusting the white handkerchief into his hands, you do some sort of awkward bow before the idea can run through your mind fully and your face turns tomato red in embarrassment. “I hope you get better soon!”

And then you spin on your heel and dash into the classroom block before you can die from shame of it all.

“Hey, wait-” Seonghwa calls after you, but you’re already gone, leaving nothing but your white handkerchief in his hand.

“You’re late today.” San remarks in a surprised voice when you slide into the seat next to his, panting for air from your little dash to class.

“I was lending someone a handkerchief. And you’re early.” You turn to the window, making a big show of searching the sky. “I don’t see any pigs, falling or flying… so I must be dreaming.”

“Well, I had to come early to school so my chauffeur could fetch Yobu back to the mansion for me.” Your best friend remarks with a shrug, and a silly, goofy smile crosses his face for a moment at the thought of the adorable one eared ragdoll cat. “I couldn’t leave him waiting here in the cold.”

“I swear the reason all these cats relate so much to you is because of this.” You tug at the thick leather choker resting against his throat, fingers brushing the cool metal of the round, silver studs on it. “If we just add a bell to this, you might as well be an actual cat, Sanie.”

Your best friend merely grins, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you expectantly. “And I suppose that’s…?”

Laughing, you pull a small cardboard box from your school bag, opening it and presenting it to San proudly. It’s a small silver bell, one that reminds you of one on a cat’s collar. The moment you had laid eyes on it at the mall, you had known it would be perfect for him. You gesture for his arm and he stretches it out to you with an amused smile on his face, your fingers fiddling with the friendship bracelet on his wrist. Undoing the clasp, you slide the silver piece onto the bracelet with nimble fingers where it rests next to the Siamese cat charm, the bell making a soft jingling sound.

“Ooh, pretty!” San inspects it with shining eyes, smiling broadly at you. He then takes out his own box, a red jewelry affair with the name of some expensive brand stamped on the lid in bright silver. Your breath catches in your throat as you catch a glimpse of it, the box is probably worth more than the entire charm you bought San.

“Sanie, you know I don’t like it when you buy me stuff like that…”

Your best friend pauses in opening the box, mouth turning down in a sad frown as he looks at you with earnest eyes. “But I want to do it for you. You’re my best friend, and I want to spend my money on you to show you how important you are to me.” You waver at his words, heart sinking as you feel like you’re making use of him for his wealth. But you know San is determined, and besides, he’s already bought the charm, so you sigh and try to fix him with a stern gaze.

“This is the last time, alright?”

San’s face cheers up in a split second.

“Alright!” He whoops, putting the charm of a Norwegian Forest Cat on your bracelet. It feels heavy, probably made of silver and custom made to boot. It’s been your tradition for the last two years of school. Every day, on the first day of a new semester, the two of you had promised to buy each other a charm to celebrate your friendship. Somehow, every charm the two of you had bought for you had ended up being some breed of cat, so you suppose that you’ve broken tradition for the first time today by giving him a bell instead. When San fixes the clasp of your bracelet, he grins at you and pats you on the head.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

You kick him in the shin. “I said this is the last time, you goof. Don’t go getting any ideas.”

San pouts at you, shaking his head so that his dark brown hair falls into his eyes, showing off the red streaks in them. Your eyes widen in alarm and smack him on the arm as he lounges back in his chair casually, placing his booted feet on the table. “I thought I told you to get rid of those last week before school started!”

Your best friend whistles cheerily, feigning ignorance. “I promised nothing.”

San, for all the adorableness he holds, is too, part of ATEEZ. A certified bad boy, a definite troublemaker. Everything on him, from the designer white shirt with scrawled designs all over it to the multiple silver piercings in his ears to the striking red coat he has slung over his chair, screams rebel in response to every dress code in existence. San rebels, but he at least does it with style.

On the first day of school when the two of you been assigned to seats next to each other in class, the very first thing he’d done upon meeting you was to rip off his tie and declare to you loudly about how the colour scheme of the tie was absolutely hideous when matched with the shade of the blazer. He had then proceeded to rant to you all about the material of the blazer and the undershirt, and you don’t think you’ve seen him in uniform since that day.

Well, you suppose he knows what he’s talking about, considering that he’s the heir to one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in the country. Besides, you’ve stolen that red coat more times you can count on cold days and it often spends the night over at your house when San makes you wear it home.

“What kind of name for a cat is Yobu, though?” You ask San, shaking your head at him as the teacher walks into the classroom. He simply grins at you, tweaking one of his many earrings with amusement.

“A friend of mine chose it-” He begins to explain excitedly, but then your teacher clears her throat in front of the two of you hesitantly and San’s expression darkens, looking up to glance at her as if she’s a pesky fly he’d like to smack. The teacher’s face drains of colour.

“What is it, Ms Kim?” His voice is dripping with venom and you feel your face flush at his bad attitude. You tug on his ear and he yelps in pain, turning back to pout at you.

“Ow! Why are you bullying me?” San sulks like a little kid and you can’t help but swat at his arm. The teacher, drawing a little courage from seeing San being steamrolled into submission by you, pipes up.

“Mr Choi… you’re not supposed to be sitting there-”

That’s her mistake.

San’s eyes turn glacial as he turns to face her slowly, gazing down his nose at her imperiously, dangerously like a cobra waiting to strike. San isn’t loud and quick to anger like some of his other friends are, but he’s no less dangerous with that vicious, poisonous mind of his. The teacher falls silent immediately, none of the other students willing to help her out lest they get on his bad side.

“I’ve said it at the beginning of term and I’ll say it again.” San enunciates every word slowly and precisely, his dark gaze never wavering from the teacher’s eyes. You can almost imagine it, a monstrous serpent like aura looming behind your best friend, frightening everyone before him into submission. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his gaze, but you hear people describing the experience to be akin to staring down the barrel of a gun. “I’m sitting besides her and no one else. Did you not hear me the first time?”

“Mr Choi, I’m just doing my job-”

“Do. You. Understand.”

His last words are nothing like a question, instead carrying a more mocking tone. The threat is like a loaded gun, the bullet unseen and hidden in the chambers of the weapon, but the finger is already resting on the trigger, eager to fire. Your teacher pales at his words, fingers trembling against her binder.

You feel bad for her, so you gently tug at San’s sleeve, pulling his razor sharp gaze away from your teacher. “Hey, San, I’m not going anywhere. How about you start thinking about ways we can get Shiber to warm up to Yobu when we go over to your house later while I have lessons?”

His face brightens right away, the icy look melting right off like snow in the summer at the thought of Yobu and Shiber playing together. “Of course! Why didn’t I think about that?” Pulling a piece of paper from your bag, he swipes one of the pens off your table and begins jotting down ideas and names of cat treats. His attention off the teacher, the entire classroom heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.

Your teacher takes five minutes to calm her racing heart before the lesson begins.

Seonghwa sits at the bench at the school gates, waiting for the rest of his friends.

Golden and red leaves spiral through the air, caught and tossed around by the autumn winds as they flutter to the ground like clipped butterfly wings. They fall to the ground, devoid of the green freshness of spring, dead and utterly lifeless. He remembers the limp hand of his mother, her fair skin drenched in crimson lifeblood, the drunk driver having crashed right into the side of his mother’s car as she returned home from buying him supper. She’d died on the spot, right before any the ambulances and paramedics arrived.

His fingers curl around the dry maple leaves, crushing them and scattering them with the wind. He hates the autumn. All it brings is death and pain.

“Hyung!”

He’s pulled from his thoughts and turns around to see three of the five 99’ liners stepping out of the school gates, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. A smile crosses his face briefly. No matter how terrifying of an image he might have to others, he has a soft spot for the rest of the boys in ATEEZ. All of them have stuck together through thick and thin, supporting each other no matter the struggle, Wooyoung through his addiction and Jongho through his fits of violent rage, Hongjoong with his familial conflicts at home and so much more. They’re like family to him, he briefly wonders, before his eyes darken at the thought of his drunken father back in the house they share.

He forces the thought from his mind, instead looking upon his friends’ faces, frowning in confusion.

“Why are you smiling so much, Sanie?”

The boy in question merely grins wider, tucking his hands into his pockets as he dodges a kick Wooyoung aims at him. “Wooyoungie tripped on Mingi’s shoe and fell down the stairs earlier.”

Mingi stifles a laugh at Wooyoung’s flat expression.

The sleeves of San’s white shirt are rolled up, showing the cat charm bracelet dangling from his wrist. The silver bits and bobs usually tinkle and jingle, letting everyone in the area that San is coming, but today, the sound seems to be especially prominent. Seonghwa’s eyes rake over the charms, counting five, six, seven…

He spots a silver cat bell dangling at the end.

“Did you get a new charm, San?” Seonghwa asks, curious and San nods proudly, preening in front of his hyung. The bell jingles once more, as if showing off to Seonghwa.

“She got it for me!” He smiles widely, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. San doesn’t need to say who it is for Seonghwa to know. Aside from ATEEZ, San has no friends… except a mysterious girl that San doesn’t want mixed up in their business.

“Can’t have Wooyoung seducing her from me.” He’d joked once, to Wooyoung’s not so amused amusement.

But Seonghwa can understand why San wouldn’t want his friend to be associated with them. From the way San speaks about her ever so often, she seems to be a quiet, mild tempered girl who focuses hard on her studies and can even miraculously convince San to revise for the upcoming exams with her in the school library. Being related to them in any way could stain her pristine reputation, make it difficult for her to attain any student leadership positions in the school that were vital to a portfolio, or even make any friends in general.

Honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t know why she would stick with San.

But San is happy when he speaks about her. He’s clearly fond of her, he’d even dragged all of them to search for a suitable charm for her birthday gift.

Then a ticklish feeling rises in his nose and he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket, sneezing into it. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the piece of white cloth has saved him so many trips to the convenience store nearby to buy a pack of tissue. Looking down on it, he sighs as he looks the handkerchief over. It’s a piece of plain white cloth, without embellishment or embroidery, nothing outstanding to set it apart from others physically, but unique, because it was there for him when he needed it. Just like the girl who’d given it to him, he thinks to himself with another sigh, wondering how exactly he’s going to find her and return the handkerchief to her.

He doesn’t remember much about how she looks, having been trying to stop himself from sneezing in front of her when she’d literally thrown the handkerchief in his face and shouted at him to get better, before she dashed away faster than Usain Bolt on steroids.

Honestly, who still uses handkerchiefs in this day and age?

“Did you catch a cold, hyung?” Ever perceptive Wooyoung asks curiously, before spotting the handkerchief in his hand. “I didn’t know you used handkerchiefs, though.”

For some reason, something in his voice is completely judgemental and even though Seonghwa feels the same, he can’t help but feel like he needs to defend the girl who gave it to him, at least. Then he catches himself, frowning. Wooyoung’s too curious for his own good, tell him a little and the he’ll have her name, class, blood type, age, address, favourite food down to a tee tomorrow.

Besides, Seonghwa wants to do this by himself.

So Seonghwa shakes his head.

“It’s not mine. A girl gave it to me in the morning, but I don’t know who it was. I owe her a word of thanks, at least.”

Mingi raises an eyebrow, teeth fiddling with the silver piercing on his lower left lip absentmindedly. “Someone approached you, hyung?’ He sounds as confused as Seonghwa feels.

Curious, San glances over at the piece of white cloth for a moment, staring blankly. Then something in his dark eyes glint minutely, the side of his lip quirking up in amusement. Is it fate?

A thought forms and the cogs of his mind start turning, building upon that wisp of a thought until it turns into an idea, then a plan. Seonghwa catches sight of the little smirk on San’s face and frowns in confusion, opening his mouth to ask the younger boy exactly what he’s thinking. He’s a little afraid when San smiles like that. It usually means he’s up to no good.

“San, what is it?”

But San shrugs playfully, eyes shining with glee.

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing, hyung.”

Seonghwa’s been searching for you for a week now.

For the first time, he actually attends school regularly even if it isn’t to go to class. Standing at the main gate at the crack of dawn, his eyes rake the faces of the students who walk into school every morning. All of them give him a wide berth, wearing the same terrified, yet befuddled expressions, similarly confused as why to the one of school’s bad boys would actually be in the school compound before the bell rings.

Regularly, at that.

About fifteen minutes before the bell rings, he hears the familiar thrum of an engine and raises his head to glance at the driveway outside. Just as he does, a sleek black Jaguar purrs into sight, coming to a stop. It’s presence still causes the same ripple of excitement and anticipation as it did three years ago, and Seonghwa can see all the students in the front yard of the school whispering behind their hands as they discuss the boy inside, wondering whether he’s going to abide by the school rules for once.

The driver, dressed impeccably as ever in a black, custom tailored suit and white gloves, crosses over to the passenger’s side and opens the door for the person inside with a deep bow.

“Young master.”

Kim Hongjoong, eldest son to the CEO of one of the most powerful business empires in Korea and probably the world, steps out with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as if he’s still half asleep. Then he turns to the chauffeur, who Seonghwa recognises now as Hongjoong’s personal assistant and bodyguard, and gives him a nod.

“Thank you, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom falters momentarily, head rising a little as he looks at his master. “Young master, you know your father does not like it when you thank me… I am a mere household servant-”

“Who gives a damn what that old fart wants?” Hongjoong grabs his bag from the backseat, adjusting the silver beads and tags in his mullet. “I’ll see you later, Jae.”

The chauffeur can’t exactly argue with his employer, so he merely sighs a little and nods, bowing once more. “As you wish, young master.”

Seonghwa watches quietly as the car zips off down the street.

“Still here, Mars?” His best friend steps up next to him, bag casually slung over one shoulder as he quirks a brow, showing off the eyebrow slit at the side. Seonghwa lets his face relax into a small smile, adjusting the collar of his maroon turtleneck.

“Yeah.”

Hongjoong merely sighs in exasperation, waving his phone in hand. “You know, like I told you at the beginning of all this nonsense, I could have just given Jaebeom a ring and you would have your mystery girl’s identity in a folder on your lap within ten minutes. It would have included handphone number, siblings, hospital records and financial accounts and you wouldn’t be standing here like some lovesick goof every morning.”

Seonghwa doesn’t take any offense to his friend’s barbed words, knowing they stem from genuine concern for him. In fact, Hongjoong only uses his glib tongue and charisma when it comes to charming people into doing things that he wants. He’s not quite as skilled a manipulator as Wooyoung, who can puppet any person like a marionette on strings, but then again few are.

Seonghwa prefers it when Hongjoong takes on this tone with him. It’s more casual, more informal and Seonghwa doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of being played. When he speaks like that, he’s not the heir of the Kim Corporation, Kim Hongjoong, but instead he’s just Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.

“You know why I want to do this myself.” Seonghwa says softly and Hongjoong pauses a moment, because he does. He understands all too well just having everything presented to him on a silver platter with a golden spoon, not having to put in effort for any of it. Things lose their value that way, and he knows Seonghwa is determined not to let this happen.

Hongjoong merely sighs as he glances at the white handkerchief in Seonghwa’s hand.

“Well, I doubt anyone’s coming in now, it’s pretty late.” He tells Seonghwa, who nods and tucks the neatly folded cloth in his pocket. “Let’s get to class.”

San calls you at approximately five in the morning. On a Saturday morning, in fact.

Groaning as you roll over in your bed, you reach for your phone, the silver cat charms clicking against the screen as you put it to your ear. You’re thinking of a hundred and one ways to slowly butcher him and rip him into tiny little pieces when his cheerful voice comes over the phone. “Hey, my dear best friend, what are you doing up so early in the morning?”

A growl tears from your throat. “It’s 5:16 AM, Choi San. If you don’t have a good reason for waking me up at this time of the morning I’m coming over to your house, I’m going to rip out your throat and I’m going to steal Shiber from you.”

A horrified squeal comes over the phone. “Don’t steal Shiber!”

You almost sigh at how he completely missed out the ‘I’m going to tear your throat out’ bit, but you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation, sitting up on your bed as the blanket falls to your lap. “What is it, San? If you tell me now that you want to watch reruns of the Golden Girls at this time of the morning, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.”

“Oooh, kinky.” San whistles and you groan, smacking your head against the bedside table. Murder does really seem to be a tempting option now.

“Choi San I swear if you do not give me a good reason right now I’m going back to sleep-” You begin but then San cuts in more quickly than a swerving F1 racer.

“No no no, please don’t! Well, you see, one of the maids back at my house just told me that Yobu fell sick and needs to see a vet, but none of them are open at this time of the morning.”

Your jaw drops at the news, heart thundering in your chest. “I can’t believe you wasted all my time talking nonsense when Yobu was ill! What are we going to do, San?” You’re honestly worried for that sweet mannered ragdoll cat, fingers drumming anxiously against the table when San continues.

“But I have a friend knows about veterinary medicine since he works part time at a vet, so could you please bring Yobu to him? I’ve already told him that you’re coming.”

Something strikes you as odd and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “San… why can’t you just bring Yobu there yourself?”

“Ahh…” You hear your best friend falter a little over the phone and from the sheepish tone in his voice, he’s up to something again. You’re about to question him when you suddenly realise that there’s the thumping of the bass in the background, synthesizers screaming and the sound of drunken singing. Your heart falls.

“You’re in a club, aren’t you?”

San pauses uncomfortably. You’ve made it clear multiple times that you don’t approve of his partying lifestyle, but you’ve also told him that it’s his life and he needs to make choices for himself. “Yeah… “ His voice is soft over the phone, but then it tries to cheer you up a little. “I swear I didn’t even drink a lot! I’m not even drunk right now! I just came for a bit of booze and the atmosphere.”

At that, your smile softens a little. You know that San is desperately trying to change his ways, but it’s only the beginning, the first step of a long journey. “I know. Be back before sunrise, okay? Stay safe and don’t make me worry about you.”

You can hear San’s smile over the phone. “I promise. Now then, I’m leaving our child in your hands, alright?”

You’ve barely agreed when the call ends, the beeping of the phone all that’s left of your conversation.

You’re standing outside an apartment building at seven.

Yobu lets out a little mrrow from the basket under your arm and you stroke him on the head gently, checking the address on your phone. He looks perfectly fine to you, but then again you’re no doctor. Glancing at the block number and the unit, you’re indeed at San’s friend’s house. What friend, you have no idea, but you really need to get Yobu checked up as fast as possible.

Stepping up to the door, you press the bell once.

There’s an electronic warble and some shifting coming from behind the closed door. “Wait a moment, please-” You hear and you frown, the voice sounds male and vaguely familiar, as if you’ve heard it before. But before you can remember where, the door swings open to reveal the resident of the house.

You nearly drop Yobu in your shock.

You’re so going to murder San in his sleep.

Because it’s Park Seonghwa standing there, blonde hair mussed from sleep, dressed in a soft grey sweater and sweats, staring back at you with equally wide eyes. No leather jacket, no silver chains around his neck, simple black piercings in his ears. To your surprise, he looks soft as a kitten, not at all like that bad boy image you’re so used to seeing in school.

You glance down at his feet. He’s wearing freaking Gundam cartoon themed socks.

“Mrrow…” Yobu meows plaintively from his basket, as if demanding for the two of you to stop staring at each other and get a move on. That’s enough to jerk Seonghwa out of his shock and he opens the door a bit wider to let you in. “Uhh, please come in.”

You do as you’re told, slipping your shoes off at the door and stepping inside. The house is surprisingly bare, a pair of folded mattresses against against the wall and a lumpy couch in the corner. There’s a vet’s bag on the floor, stethoscope already laid out. You glance to the shelf at to your left as you set Yobu down on the ground, there’s a picture of a woman who you assume to be Seonghwa’s mother, and next to that is a collection of assembled Gundam models.

It seems as if someone is a fan.

You’re briefly afraid if something bad is going to happen to you when Park Seonghwa closes the door behind you, but as much as San enjoys playing pranks on you, he’s never one to put you in danger. Seonghwa sit down before you, cross legged, looking painfully awkward for the first time you’ve seen him.

“Umm… Hi…” He greets you softly and you stiffen to attention, Yobu curling in your arms and you hesitantly stroke the tiny cat gently. “So… Yobu is sick?”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. “You know Yobu?”

Seonghwa nods slowly. “Yeah well… I was the one who named him.” He holds out his hands for the grey ragdoll, looking at you hesitantly while you’re still staring at him in shock from this unexpected information. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip nervously, dragging across the black piercing there. “May I?’

You somehow regain enough cognitive function to place Yobu into his arms, the small feline nosing into Seonghwa’s chest and he lets out a gentle laugh, nuzzling the kitten with his nose. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you, little guy.”

Your mind is still reeling from all of… this. From what you know, Park Seonghwa is a mysterious bad boy who is a member of a terrifying group called ATEEZ that your best friend also happens to be part of. But even after knowing San for three years, he’s never really exposed you to any of his other friends, so you still steer clear of them whenever you see them in school.

But this Park Seonghwa before you is looking at the tiny kitten like it holds the moon and stars in its tiny paws, humming a soft tune under his breath as he reaches for his stethoscope. He’s nothing like the Park Seonghwa you’re familiar with, bruised fingers gentle as he checks over Yobu for any physical ailments, cooing to the cat in a sweet voice when it attempts to squirm out of his arms occasionally. You usually never say this… but you’re quite mindblown.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.” Seonghwa muses after a while, setting his tools down. You’re jerked out of your stunned stupor, letting out a witty ‘eh?’ as he puts Yobu down on the ground, the kitten batting at his sweater sleeve with its paws.

Seonghwa tugs his lip piercing between his teeth and for a second, you’re raising your eyes to heaven to ask exactly what you have done to deserve this punishment, but then he’s speaking once more. “I don’t see anything wrong with Yobu… He seems perfectly fine. Did San mention anything?”

You shake your head. “No, San just told me to bring Yobu over to you.”

“That’s odd…” Seonghwa frowns, fingers fiddling with the piercings on the shell of his ear before he lets out a sigh, rising to his feet. You keep your remark of ‘yeah, that sounds like San’ to yourself as you follow him with your eyes, watching as he steps over to the shelf, opening one of the drawers. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. I’ve been looking for you for a couple of weeks now.”

You pause, a little confused. Looking for you? What would the Park Seonghwa be searching for a person like you?

When he turns around, he’s holding your white handkerchief in his hands.

The two week old memory comes to the front of your mind and your mouth falls open. You remember walking to school, hearing someone sniffing quietly behind the school building, offering them a handkerchief… only for the person to be the one and only Park Seonghwa.

“Ahh…” Is all you manage to say, a little stunned as you accept the handkerchief back. It smells of clean cloth and soap that you don’t quite recognise, meaning that Seonghwa must have cleaned it for you. “You didn’t have to, but thank you anyway.”

Seonghwa shakes his head firmly as Yobu paws at the hem of his sweats, whining for attention. “No, I needed to. Thank you for lending it to me. I really appreciate it… could I repay you somehow? Maybe bring you out for a meal tomorrow?”

Your brain hits the brakes, all activity coming to a screeching halt as the words ‘meal’, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘repay’ bounce around your head like rubber balls. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to answer from the sound of your ringtone, although the second you hear it, you’re tempted to kill San right this second, and maybe yourself too, to save yourself the shame.

“You have a call! You have a call! Hey! Answer it! Don’t ignore me! Pleaseeee~” San’s voice comes from your pocket and you freeze in embarrassment, as Seonghwa stares at you in shock.

Your face turns red and you rush to answer the call, cheeks heating up in horrified mortification. Jabbing the little green icon with as much fury as you can muster, you hiss into the phone when the call comes through.

“What the hell did you do to my phone, San?”

“Hello! How’s my dear Yobu doing?” He sings, completely ignoring your furious question. You pause in your tracks, wheels turning in your mind as you put all the clues together. His too cheerful voice, the handkerchief, how he didn’t tell you Seonghwa was this veterinarian friend…

“Choi San.” Your voice is literally bubbling with mounting vexation and your rage must be clearly heard, because there’s a gulp over the phone. “Did you plan all of this?”

The line goes dead and you stare at your phone in shock.

Then you shriek in fury.

“I’m going to kill that slimy worm! That little bastard! Playing me like this!” Your fists are clenching around your phone, dearly wishing they were wringing San’s scrawny neck instead. You’re about to throw something when a warm hand settles on your shoulder and you whirl around in shock, suddenly remembering that Seonghwa is still in the room with you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks hesitantly, dark eyes wide and concerned and your rage dissipates into thin air, replaced by all too potent self-consciousness. He’d just seen you screaming your head off like a mad woman, for god’s sake.

“Yeah...I’m just going to have to kill that bastard the next time I see him.” You mumble under your breath, turning your phone to silent before savagely shoving it in your pocket. “Yobu is fine, San just played a massive prank on us.”

To your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t even react in the least, clearly expecting something like this after having known San for so long. He merely presses one hand to his face as he shakes his head in exasperation. “I knew something was up when he was smiling so much that day. That kid, honestly…”

“Sorry for the bother.” You apologise quickly, scooping up Yobu in your arms and placing him in his basket. The ragdoll lets out a soft meow, as if confused as to why you’re leaving so soon when you practically run for the door in shame. But right before you can leave, Seonghwa’s hand grasps your wrist lightly, pulling you back, and you make a soft ‘eep’ in surprise as you turn to face him.

He actually looks painfully nervous, teeth toying with the black piercing on his lower lip as his gaze moves around shiftily, his toes scrunching up under Robot Man’s face. “Well… will you… will you let me bring you for dinner tomorrow? To thank you?”

You freeze awkwardly, the tension between the two of you thick as sauna steam. After a long, awkward pause of silence, Seonghwa finally seems to realise he’s holding onto your wrist and drops it like you have the plague, scooting back several steps to a more respectful distance. His tongue swipes across his pink lips shyly as he musters up the courage to speak again. “Please? I mean, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to, I completely understand-”

You’re snapped out of your lip piercing induced shock when you finally realise that Seonghwa thinks that you’re reluctant to go with him. Not that you aren’t slightly… but maybe it’s time to give San’s friends a chance and get to know them. From what you’ve seen of Seonghwa, he doesn’t seem that bad to you anyway.

Awkwardly, you unlock your phone and pass it to him.

His eyes widen in surprise when he sees a blank contact open, the tiny line hovering at the ‘Name’ bar. Then a smile, one real and genuine, settles on his face as he enters his name and phone number, saving it before he passes it back to you.

“I’ll call you?” He asks as you slip on your shoes, balancing Yobu’s basket in one hand and your phone in the other. You nod in reply, a little breathless from his radiant smile.

“Yeah.”

From the basket, Yobu gives a smug mew of affirmation. His mission is complete.

[scribblersbook]

Afterlife Inc.

(Original release: December 14, 2014)

Jackson Reaper had a reputation in the office for a reason. His strict attitude and unusual appearance made him well known in every division. After all, not just anyone can have a skull for a face and make it look natural… and not just any mortal can get into Afterlife Inc. either. It spoke of his character. No wonder they called him Grim behind his back.

Afterlife Inc. is exactly what it sounds like: when a person dies, this is where their soul goes for evaluation to determine whether they can go to Heaven or not. Some would call it purgatory, or limbo, or something along those lines, but it’s actually a very clean and organized office. Everything has its place, and everything has a procedure.

Jackson’s job was fairly simple, yet very important. Lots of people would consider it soul-crushingly boring, though. Luckily, he didn’t have one of those unreliable things anymore. It was his responsibility to keep track of the paperwork of incoming souls. Every soul was scheduled to arrive at a set time and date, and he had to make sure this goes flawlessly. Whenever he actually had to leave his office, it meant that something had gone wrong, or someone wasn’t doing their job properly. Souls can come in too early, or not at all, and it was his task to investigate these discrepancies and set things right.

The skull-faced salaryman was checking paper after paper that day, inspecting the names, dates, times, causes of death, and the type of stamps they received from the entry division. The one he preferred to see was the green “Arrived” stamp. It meant the soul showed up on schedule, and all he had to do was skim over the details, then put his own stamp on it: “Approved”. There were two other types of stamps that he didn’t like to see, though: “Early” and “Late”. These were the ones he needed to investigate. It broke the pleasant, predictable monotony of his day; instead, he had to waste his time fixing someone else’s mistake. Jackson hated mistakes.

As he grabbed the next paper from the “IN” pile, his boney eyebrows sunk into a frown. Samuel Smith, twenty-eight, hit by a bus. On the bottom of the form: a big red “Late” stamp. The “date arrived” was left blank, meaning that Samuel never even showed up. He was two weeks late.

Jackson let out an annoyed sigh and put the paper down. He was really hoping he could have just one pleasant week without something going wrong, but of course, that’s never the case. He stood up and left the office, turning briefly to his secretary as he walked. “Lilith, I’ll be out of the office for about an hour. Make sure my papers arrive in order.”

“Yes, Mr. Reaper.” came the answer. Jackson headed towards the entrance hall, nodding at anyone he passed by. People usually stayed out of his way; after all, he had a reputation in the office. He was fine with that; others didn’t like talking to him, and he didn’t like talking to others. It worked out.

He made his way to the entrance. It was officially known as the entry division – there was a booth opposite to the front door, with souls standing in a long snaking line next to it. A man was sitting in the booth, looking at some papers while talking to the soul in front. One could have mistaken him for a human if it wasn’t for the large, white-feathered wings nestled on his back. He was naked from the waist up, and looked unnaturally healthy. Of course. HE had to be on duty right now. Jackson rolled his non-existent eyes, then walked up to the booth.

“Gabe, I’ll be out of the office for a while. Can you call me a ride?” he said, leaning onto the counter with one arm. The man looked up and flashed a white-toothed grin at him. “Why, is something wrong?”

“No, I want to take a leisurely walk in the moonlight, Gabe. What else do you think I’m heading out for?” Jackson growled. “A soul is late and I need to investigate. You should know, you stamped his paper.”

“Of course. No need to get so grim, Grim.” Gabe said cheerfully. He was the only person in the office who openly called him that. Jackson had to let it slide, though. Gabe was from the upper offices – ‘Grim’ knew it wasn’t worth getting snappy with him.

He stepped away from the booth and headed outside, ignoring the stares of the newly arrived. There was a soul greeter standing by the front door, but Jackson ignored them, making his way down the short path outside – cement slabs leading into the empty void, with a tiny patch of grass surrounding them on each side. At the very end of the path, where the slabs ended, there was a wooden bench facing the emptiness, standing in its lonesome. Jackson sat down and waited.

In just a minute, a cab appeared in front of him in the void. He stood up and got in the back without a word. The front seats were empty – there was no need for a driver. Once he was comfortable, Jackson called out his destination loud and clear, and as if by request, the void around him shifted. The empty scenery quickly changed into a dark suburban avenue illuminated only by a lone streetlight. Getting out, Jackson muttered a thank you before the cab disappeared.

The street was empty and silent. Few have a reason to wander after midnight, but even if they did, nobody would have noticed the hooded figure. People tend to only see things that want to be seen. The house in front of him was dark, its resident asleep. Jackson walked up the pathway and went straight through the door without opening it. This way, he didn’t make any noise.

The house was a simple downtown home with two floors. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all – Jackson practically knew the place already, even though it was his first time there. He walked up the stairs and over to one of the doors he suspected was the bedroom. He phased through it and looked around.

The room was fairly small, but still managed to have a bookcase, a table, a nightstand and a large bed. On the latter, all but his head hidden under the blanket, a man was sleeping soundly. Jackson knew it was Samuel by the picture on his paper. On one of the posts at the footboard, a creature was staring at Jackson from the darkness. It had the body of a butterfly, but it was gray and much bigger than one, about the size of a large dog. Its face was humanoid, and instead of antennae, it had one long spike on its forehead like a unicorn. It looked nervous, its wings fluttering silently.

Jackson looked at the creature. “Cindy.” he said. His strict expression just made the butterfly even more anxious.

He knew the creature was a guardian angel, of course. Their job was to look after their assigned human, to make sure they’re safe until their time comes. Guardian angels had the authority to alter reality in minor ways, which helped them accomplish their task with relative ease.

“O-oh…” Cindy mumbled, trying to keep her composure. “Hi, Mr. Reaper… What a pleasant surprise...!”

“You’ve done it again, haven’t you?” he asked, crossing his boney arms. Cindy lowered her head. “Yes…”

Jackson rubbed his forehead, letting out a sigh. “Look… Cindy, we’ve been over this. Do you know how late this soul is?”

“He… he’s not just a soul!” the guardian angel said, taking flight and hovering over the bed. “I just… I couldn’t let him die so young! He’s special!”

“Yes, I’m sure he is.” Jackson shook his head. “Just like the person before him, right? Cindy, you can’t keep doing this. I already went out of my way to get you this second chance. You know how upset the boss can get if something doesn’t go according to plan.”

“Yes, but…”

“There’s no excuse. When you got this job, you were specifically told in orientation not to let your emotions get in the way. That just doesn’t work out here.” He then glanced towards the sleeping man. “He was supposed to be hit by a bus two weeks ago, what happened?”

The guardian angel softly landed on the bedpost again. “I-I tried my best, I really did! It was just… in that split second… I just couldn’t let it happen! He has so much to live for!”

Jackson shook his head again. “You know that’s not how it works. He has to go, now.”

Cindy looked at the floor silently. She didn’t dare oppose him – she knew she messed up. Jackson sighed and stepped over to the bed. He raised his boney arm, motioning towards the man with his fingers. After a few seconds, a tiny, glowing orb left the sleeper’s mouth, briefly illuminating the room with a blue light before it disappeared.

“There.” Reaper lowered his arm. “Don’t worry. He felt no pain.”

Cindy looked at the man, then back at the floor.

“Now come on. I need to fix his paperwork.” Jackson turned away and headed towards the door, but the guardian angel didn’t move. He stopped and looked back at her, then sighed. “Come on, Cindy. If you hurry, you may still meet him in the office.”

Hearing that, Cindy looked up. “Really?” she asked, and took flight again. A glimmer of hope could be heard in her voice.

“Yeah.” Jackson replied. “Just don’t tell anyone.”

[palbabor-writes]

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura. 

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask? 

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items. 

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question. 

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide. 

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly. 

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative. 

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city. 

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world. 

Now? 

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers. 

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies. 

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.” 

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.” 

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines. 

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you? 

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger. 

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence? 

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail. 

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite. 

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’ 

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him. 

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura. 

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time. 

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you. 

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible. 

He’s been changing a lot lately. 

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection. 

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice. 

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her. 

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something. 

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off. 

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner. 

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start. 

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is. 

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him? 

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command? 

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident. 

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed. 

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this. 

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you. 

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice. 

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers. 

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).” 

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling... 

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms. 

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling. 

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing. 

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?” 

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on. 

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement. 

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right? 

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things. 

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and... 

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his. 

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open. 

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again. 

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost. 

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this. 

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care. 

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip. 

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for. 

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way. 

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)  

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @evesmores​

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

[arllenn]

image des: I really loved the fact that your brought their past into the light, that you made them actually effected and reflected on it. So often I just see stories focusing on their relationship with the "new" characters (Caesar, Luminous, Johann, The Gen fam) so following that line of thought.

Can I request a flashback scene? Like when we get requested to make it snow (at the beginning of the game) the group of friends reaction to it snowing makes you reflected on your past. In which a fluffy meeting/promise happens between Z, Renata and you. Or even any fluff you can think of between the three? It can be when they were kids or the age they were at during the game.

Admittedly I would love it if you can really focus on Z and the Character interaction/relationship because we all know he cares for Renata; they have that slacker x mother hen childhood friend vibe going on. But the idea that Z and you are ACTUALLY close (it just LOOKS like your friends with Renata and only friendly acquaintances with Z from the outside) makes me happy and bittersweet.

Sorry this got so long!

Tags for this chapter: fluff, hurt no comfort, bittersweetness, pure angst at first tho Tw: mentions of death and cannon typical violence, puke, death Time setting: pre japan like imagine if the mc got an adjustment period at cassell before they got shipped off to dragon war

You smiled happy to be of help to the friends who were separating today. Their cheerful giggles and cries of happiness as they raved over being able to leave on a snowy day just like the one from when they had met made your insides bubble with warmth and nostalgia. Z, Renata and you had been the same once..... before, before Herzog had...

You shake your head, now isn't the time for this. You wring your wrists, it's a habit you picked up from Z, though you two do it for different reasons. You feel a bit light headed, your knees are weak, it's so weird to see snow and not see your beloved friends among it. It just felt wrong to not feel their warmth around you in this cold tempature. The others giggling is getting too loud, it's beggining to ring in your ears and bounce around in your head at the same time as the memories of Renata and Z pour out of your head and spill in front of your eyes. You stiffly walk over to Claudia, left foot, left hand, right foot, right hand. Back and forth back and forth. You want to leave, but it’d feel wrong just going without checking with her.

“We met and departed on a snowy day.” She sounds so happy and while you’re glad that you were able to help them you also can’t help but feel cloying jealousy at the fact that this trio, Claudia, Susu and Leah get to be together, to meet and depart on snowy days filled with joy, while you can’t. You want to be able to see Z and Renata, you want to be able to tease them while jumping for joy and promising to stay in contact. You want to be able to send them off with a smile on your face and a promise to be well.

But you can’t.

And that’s it.

There’s no going back and searching, there’s no making up after an argument, there’s just nothing. Renata is dead Z is dead everyone is dead! And you can’t do anything about it.

Staggering away you start walking towards one of the benches in the courtyard that face the library. To say that you collapse on it would be an understatement. It’s like all the bones in your body liquified then disappeared at that moment. You clench at the snow on the bench, using the all too familiar feeling of it to guide you through your memories. The day you arrived at the orphanage, the first time you met Renata, Z and you arguing over who would get to hold which of Renata’s hands, the day Vera had arrived, so small and only a year old. You remembered her small finger curling around your own while Z helped you readjust how you held her.

Just Renata, Z and you.

But now it’s just you. You clench at your throat, clawing at it as if that’ll destroy the lump forming in it. You bring your knees up to meet with your chest. Burying your head in your arms. It hurts, you want to see them. At this point you’d even take Anton and Khorkina’s belittling of you or even Ivan and Sherkman failing horribly to hide the fact that they were dating over anything else that could possibly occur right now.

Rubbing your face on your knees you try to get rid of the few silent tears that have begun to spill. It doesn’t work, in fact it just makes everything so, so much worse. Memories of your childhood fly by, you’re loosing your grip on reality you know that. You don’t want to do it here. Not on a bench where anyone can see, if you’re completely honest you don’t want to confront them at all. But that isn’t an option, it’s never going to be an option for you, because you’re trying so hard to push them down and stamp them out right now. And it’s not working.

One of the wandering vending machines come up to you, clawed arm holding something in it. You can't see it at all, your line of sight only contains your legs after all, but you can hear the distinctive beeps of the machine, the whirring of its mechanical organs that allow it to move. You can feel the jagged edges of a wrapper lightly scratching at your leg through your uniform. The robot beeps twice shoving the snack into your leg once again before dropping it and skittering off. Lifting your head up you stared down at the snack you had been left with. Maybe the world really does hate you. Maybe you deserve to constantly have your mind ripped at and heart torn apart, because laying there in front of you is a cookie a chocolate chip one at that. The second your eyes land on the bubbly font that spells out chocolate you cant help but watch in horror as Vera falls in front of you, mere feet away, body still warm as she hits the snow, dead. You feel the bile rise in your throat, it isn't something that you can just swallow down either. Hand clapped over your mouth you stand, getting ready to run.

-----------------------------

You have no idea how you've made it back to your dorm room without puking on the way here, but now you're sitting over your toilet dry heaving into it. You stare down at the item that made you like this the choco- you spit into the toilet. Cookie, you'll just refer to it as a cookie. You consider tearing off the top half of the wrapper but then the smell of the cookie and the chocolate might just tip you over the edge. Instead you settle for smacking it away from you. In some small way it makes you feel better.

You hate that Herzog has ruined this for you. You hate that you can’t even see the word chocolate without feeling your insides churn, you hate that you can’t see snow without seeing your friends bloodied corpses staring back at you, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cookies were the first dessert that you had ever tasted and the last one. You remember the day you had first tried to bake them.

That day Z had let you in his room, Renata was sick, and neither of you were allowed to be around her as per Herzogs orders. With the knowledge that you have now you think you understand why you weren’t allowed to see her back then. Rather than actually being ill Renata was probably suffering from the side effects of the incomplete evolution pills. But either way natural disease or not it had been just you and Z. Sitting side by side on his bed, you laying with your torso hanging off his bed partially, practically upside down, and him crisscross leaned up against the wall that his bed bordered, a hand close enough to your leg to catch you if you started to slip. You two had been mindlessly talking, reading some book that you’ve forgotten the name of now, alternating turns each chapter. When you had gotten to a part where the main character was making cookies for their friend as a get well gift.

“Hey Z, have you ever had a cookie? I mean I’ve heard of them but I’ve never even seen one.”

“I can’t say that I have,” he yawned, “I’m not a big fan of sugar in general. That combined with the fact that the orphanage doesn’t even get the ingredients for them makes it obvious that I’d never even have the chance to try them, same as you.”

“That’s too bad, based on the description I think they’d be pretty good. You think Renata has ever had one?”

“I’m not her, I wouldn’t know.”

“I mean fair enough, but I kinda expected that you would, you guys spend forever having those late night talks after you send me to bed.”

You haul yourself up and spin on your ass so that you’re looking him in the eye, “Speaking of~, I won’t allow you to marry my daughter young man!” You cross your arms in an ‘X’ in front of you shaking your head. “Absolutely not don’t think I’ll allow anything of the sort!!”

Snorting he had pushed on your forehead with his finger until you were laying down the same as before and used his foot to roll you away from him. “2/10, If you’re going to give me a shovel talk then you should at least be intimidating, 1, and 2 you should do it in front of Renata so that you can embarrass her, who just gives that kinda talk straight to the supposed,” he raised his hands and gave out finger quotations “boyfriend?”

“Is that back talk I hear sonny? Don’t make me get up there!”

”Yeah because you haven’t already.” You can’t see him from your position but you can hear the smile on his voice. An accomplishment if you’ve ever seen one! You mean the stoic eternally tired Z was snorting and smiling because of what you said! You always loved times like this, when you would manage to break through his exterior and draw out a reaction, (preferably positive!!), out of him. Tapping his knee you grip onto his leg to pull yourself up once more, you can see him contemplating rolling you off the bed, thankfully he chooses peace for once.

”No okay but dead seriously, let’s go make cookies for Renata. We just got the shipments a little while ago, there’s got to be some of the stuff we need in there! We’ll just ask Herzog,”

“Or steal”

“Yes, or steal, come on it’ll be great!”

“Normally Renata would be here to stop you, which I am always grateful for since it means that I don’t have to be the one to talk you out of these things,”

You snap your fingers, “Speed it up Z, do I have a partner or am I gonna have to start running before you catch me?”

He claps a hand over your mouth which you look down at “Don’t you dare lick me,” is what he says in response to your stares. “As I was saying before someone cut me off,” if gives you a pointed stare, “Normally Renata would be here to be the voice of reason, however since she’s ‘sick’ and I don’t want to have her on my neck about you getting in trouble later here are my words of caution,” He takes his hand off your mouth and pats slaps your cheek twice before bringing the tips of his fingers in between the book page that you had been on and the next, folding it over and closing it. “Don’t, and if you do don’t get caught.”

It was your turn to snort, “What the heck, you suggested stealing in the first place!” You laughed. He shrugged his shoulders and set the book down on his bedside table getting up off the bed and bringing his arms above his head to stretch.

”I never said that we weren’t going to steal if that’s what you decide to do I simply offered you a word of advice about you stealing alone.

”AWWWW Z I knew there was a reason I put up with you!” You cried jumping up off the bed and attempting to latch onto his back,

He turned to face you swatting your hands away, muttering about you being “too big for him to carry like that anymore”

“What was that!?”

He pinched your cheek with one hand and used the other to ruffle your hair in a way that you knew wasn’t meant to be affectionate but instead to mess it up. “Look at how big the babies gotten! It can walk and talk now! Go ahead say ‘papa’ again!” You knew that you could never win against Z in a fight, all attempts left you on the floor with him sitting on you, or you hiding behind Renata and you exercising your lying and puppy dog eyes abilities. But boy oh boy did Z have a way of activating your Cain instinct and making you want to slap the shit out of him (affectionately of course). You heaved out a long suffering groan, and pulled Z’s hands off of you. You walked over to where his dresser was and sucked your teeth as you stared at your reflection. You tried your best to undo his damage to your hair, but it was a lost cause, hanging your head you turned to him with what you hoped was a horrifying, knee shaking, earth quaking, chicken baking, glare.

“This is why you’re an orphan.”

“Fair enough.” He said with a shrug before motioning towards the door, are we leaving now or what.”

“I’m coming, we’re going.” You said waving your hand at him in a shooing motion.

The minute you stepped outside it had been like you were ass blasted into one of the shipment containers mega freezers. You rubbed at your arms, lamenting the fact that you lived on a hunk of ice in the middle of a polar bears ass cheeks. “Okaaay so,” you clapped your hands together, “Do we know where Herzog is?” Z yawned and shook his head no from beside you. “Alright thank you for your participation! Gold star! I’ll go ask Anton, you stay here. And don’t fall asleep!” You ran off to go find Anton ignoring Z’s comment about you acting like a stray dog.

Heaving you clutched at the toilet, sobbing over the loss of your friends. You couldn’t even think of the times back then as being over, you just can’t.

No, that’s not right, you know they’re over, you know those peaceful days of snow and teasing are over. And yet you still long for them, you want to feel Z’s hands in your hair once more, want to feel the thrill of catching him off guard and running to hide behind Renata. You want back the times that you had spent, absorbed in watching Vera as she took her first steps, your young self amazed that anyone could ever be so small. You miss those moments when you seriously contemplated smashing Antons face into the ice under your feet, missed the random times when Ivan would pull you away to look at something cool that he had found. You just missed being homeyou miss the safe feeling that you had been provided with daily back then. Ignorance truly is bliss you suppose. If you had survived not knowing about what Herzog had done, if you survived thinking that all of this was just some randoms attack on you and your family would you have been happier? It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.

You dry heave and spit into the toilet, bile rising in your throat but not to the point in which it would spill past your lips. Your vision is blurry from the tears and your head throbs with the pain of the pressure your tears are both building up and releasing. “I wanna go home…” you mumble slowly laying yourself down on the floor, hands clutched into your hair, fingers threading themselves in with the strands and pulling at them like a tide. You would yank at your hair then let it all fall out of your grip, massaging your scalp slightly, and then yanking at it again. You continued in this way as the blurry memory of that day played in front of you. Anton being no help, Khorkina doing her best to goad you into punching her, Ivan being somewhere that you swear was unreasonably high up. Eventually finding Herzog and asking him, him granting you permission as long as you cleaned up after yourselves, running back to Z with the good news.

“Z! Z! Listen to this!” He looked up at you from his spot on the stairs, clearly bored out of his mind, but hey at least he hadn’t fallen asleep like you asked!

He made a twirling motion with his hand “What is it?”

You placed your hands on your hips and grinned, “Herzog says we can use the stuff in the kitchen as long as we clean up afterwards!” You gave an overzealous thumbs up afterwards to make your point even clearer.

“That’s great!” He said all too sarcastically. Getting up he put both hands on your shoulders resting all of his weight on them before finally standing up straight shushing you and your whining.

It hurry you so much to know that everyone is gone. It hurts to know that you’ll never get that chance to just see them again, to hear their voices, catch a glimpse of them on the street. Instead they’re all dead and there’s nothing that you can do about it. You had watched everyone die, you had seen their eyes glaze over and go out of focus. You had seen how their blood stained the pure white snow a bright and somber red. You had run past them as you registered them as dead, praying to nothing but everything at the same time that at least one of them would live. That you would get to hold at least one of them in your arms as you two promised to stay with each other. But you didn’t get that. Instead you got to watch as Renata faded into the distance, your last hope, you got to claw through icy waters, pleading your legs to move, to allow you to save your dearest friend….

”Z, Z, Z! Help me I have no idea why the egg keeps cracking like that!”

“Maybe it’s cracking like that because you keep squeezing them until they explode.”

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me young man! I’ll have you know that Dr.Herzog says that I’ve made great progress in my home economics studies.” You proudly bumped your chest with your fist only to look down and see your uniform covered in egg goop. Z snickered before handing you a rag and motioning for you to hand him the bowl and the eggs. You slid it over to him with your elbow and focused on cleaning your hands and uniform up.

”Here,” he held up one of the eggs,”I’ll show you how to crack an egg, so that you don't end up wasting all of them.” He hit it lightly on the edge of the bowl, holding both ends of the egg with his fingers and pulling his palm so that the egg slowly slipped out of the shell before proceeding to throw the shell somewhere off to the side of him. He pushed the bowl back towards you with a smug look on his face. "You get it now?"

"Yep, yep, yep," you waved your hand at him dismissively before turning back to the book. "Okay so now we mix wet ingredients and dry, then we add in the chocolate." Getting the chocolate for the recipe had been the hardest part. With how rare chocolate is at the orphanage and the fact that you weren't allowed into your room because of how sick Renata was it had been hard to find any. Eventually after bribing Z and way too much effort on your part, you had ended up on Z's shoulders searching through the backs of the older and dustier cabinets, in one of which you had found a chocolate bar that was a week off from its expiration date. Not the best but it could've been 10 times worse you suppose. Z pushed the chocolate towards you with this hand before resting his head on his hand.

"So how much longer do we have? It's getting late." Z stifled a yawn.

You glanced at the book and back down at the cookie batter that you were currently scooping out and onto the baking sheet. They didn't hold their shape as well as the book described them as being able to but you supposed that it was just a matter of reality vs. idealized fiction. "Um I don't know. The book says that they need 25 minutes to bake properly and who knows how long its going to take to clean this all up."

"Well good luck with that." He said slapping his hand down on the table, turning around on his stool, and standing up.

Even if it was just the memory of the sound, the slapping of Z's hand on the table sent a wave of nausea scorching through your body. Everything was a blur, reality, what you were really seeing, cold white tile and the rug in front of the shower were blending together with the cold white of snow, the rug that was in you and Renata's cabin. You felt hands on your face, were they from the memory of Renata checking your temperature or were they your own? Your vision was swimming, you were underwater, you were lying on the bathroom floor. You were drowning, you're lying on the bathroom floor. You're dying, you can't see.

You clamored up in a haze, you have to run! You have to get to Renata and Vera and Anton and and and and! And you slam into a desk that was out in the middle of Hezog's lab. Z is right there, Renata is right there, Vera is right there! All you need to do is reach out a little further and you'll be there! You'll be able to save them! You finally latch onto Z's uniform begging him not to go, begging him to stay with you, because if you go alone then everyone will die. "PLEASE Z!" You yell out. "I need you, I need you, I need you, everyone's dying, dead, dying dead, dying, dead, I can't save them! PLEASE!" And then the Z you're holding onto collapses, leaving nothing but a pile of clothes behind. His uniform lies bloodied in your hands. Renata lies bloodied in your hands. Anton lies just out of reach, dead. "Come back, please." You clutch onto Z's uniform harder. The tears don't falter as you trace your hands along the sleeves of the uniform. "The sleeves are too short you should get Herzog to make you a new one." You chuckle fondly. only...

Only...

Only the uniform has too many mistakes for it to have ever been Z's, theres too big a difference in size. It doesn't smell the same. It's not his... it's yours. You're not at the orphanage, you're in your dorm at Cassel. You're sitting on hardwood floors right now, not the powdery snowfall of home. Its warm, not cold, theres no dead bodies, only you and the mess that you made when you stormed through here earlier. You choke on a sob, tears coming down in even thicker streams, your headache had bloomed into a splendid migraine. You can barely see straight, but you know for sure that this isn't anywhere near, by or in the orphanage. And it can never be. The orphanage is gone now. Everyone's bodies are probably still lying on top of the snow, glassy eyes unfocused and unseeing, faces twisted in fear. Or maybe they've been charred to ashes, with nothing left to remember them by, their remains carried by the winds or at the bottom of the sea. You clutch your uniform tighter, biting down on it to muffle your screams and sobbing.

You have no idea how long you've been here. Your tears have faded now, only leaving the uncomfortable burning of the dried tear tracks in their memory. You don't stare at anything in particular, theres nothing left of your emotions, just the dull ache of apathy. Your vision is spotted with dancing black circles and lines. They look a bit like what you imagine TV static would look like but you really have no idea. Your conscious waves and ebbs like the tides from back home. You can't think of anything other than the feeling of the cloth clutched in your embrace right now. Sighing you bury your face in it, resigning yourself to a night on the floor.

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐒

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Worried!San x Drunk!Reader

✕ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Pure Fluff

✕ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.5k+

✕ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Strong language, mentions of alcohol. The reader (you) is kind of annoying (just a wee bit)

✕ 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕ 𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by the lyrics - “아직도 답이 없네 두시 반도 지났는데, 니가 없는 밤은 마치 외딴섬 같아” [Trans: “It’s half past two and there’s still no answer, a night without you is like a remote island.”] from Alone, by Moonbin and Sanha (Astro). I had initially intended to post this as a time stamp but I got a bit carried away. I’m uploading this again because it was not showing up in the tags the first time and I was getting really frustrated :( 

✕ 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: here

San tossed around in his bed, the covers making a swishing noise as they tangled around his limbs uncomfortably.

It was already half-past two in the morning, and you had still not come back home. San tried not to bother much as he knew your job usually kept you until late hours in the night, but it was never this late and it was never without a prior message.

The room was dark, and the only light that came in was through the sheer white curtains that covered the large windows in your and San's shared bedroom.

San turned from his side to his back, staring at the white-painted ceiling above him with endless thoughts floating in his head.

Where were you? Why had you not called or texted him? Were you okay?

A never-ending spiral of questions regarding your wellbeing clouded your boyfriend's mind as he finally made up his mind and swept himself off the bed. His feet hit the wooden floor with a certain amount of determination. Grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, he set a baseball hat on his head and dialled your number.

The line rang a few times as San made his way out of the front door, standing in front of the elevator as the numbers aimlessly moved floors.

"Hello?" Your voice suddenly sounded and San almost cried out of relief.

"Hello? (Y/n)? Where are you baby?" San fumbled out in a rush and clutched the phone tighter in his hand, frantically pressing the elevator button as if it would make the metal box move faster.

"Hello?" Your voice rang out once again and San checked the bars on his phone to see if he was getting enough network.

"Hello? Baby? Can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Hello...lo..lo...lo, yell...ow...ow..." a small giggle accompanied your words and San furrowed his eyebrows.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He asked and almost through himself into the elevator when it arrived.

"Whoooo is this?" Your words were heavily slurred. Every letter stretching out like play dough in a child's hands.

"It's me, baby. San."

San stood in front of the elevator's door, almost shaking from the panic that was slowly building up in him. The only thing keeping him sane was the fact that you were alive and on the line with him.

"San!" You giggled and snorted at hearing your boyfriend's name and started making kissing noises over the speaker, making San cringe and draw the phone away from his ear due to the disturbing noise.

"Yes, baby, it's me, San. Where are you right now?"

"I'm...I don't know...but there's a big fucking smiley face staring right at me."

San sighed and rubbed his temples before smiling. He knew exactly where you were and thankfully it wasn't that far from the apartment.

Hooking his phone up to the car, he punched in the location and pulled out of the parking lot. All while trying to make conversation with you.

"Hang in there baby, I'm almost there," he said you giggled again before a thumping noise came and the call got disconnected.

San pressed the accelerator with an inhuman force and even skipped a few red lights before pulling up in front of a 24x7 convenience store called 'Smiley Convenience'. Parking along the sidewalk haphazardly, he grabbed his phone and dialled your number to follow the ringing noise to back where the tables were located. Seated in one of the plastic chairs, there you were. Hair slightly tangled, falling all over your arm as you snoozed on the table. Your phone was pressed tightly between your cheek and table as soft snores left your mouth.

"Baby," San shook you awake but had to hold his breath due to the strong smell of alcohol that was coming off you as if it was some new perfume you had sprayed.

"Baby," he tried once again and lifted you up, shaking you by your shoulders slightly to get you awake and going.

Incoherent gurgles and mumbles left your mouth as you slumped on top of him. San moved you to the backseat, lying you straight down but upright enough to buckle you in.

Getting you back into the apartment was another task on its own. Throughout the elevator ride up to your apartment, drunk you thought it would be a good idea to press all the buttons and giggle as the elevator stopped and opened on every floor. San had to apologise multiple times to the elderly couple that had committed the grave sin of getting onto the same elevator as you and him. His back hurt from bowing to ninety degrees, apologising every time you pressed a button only to giggle and then lean into him some more.

San let out a huge exhale as he finally managed to get you seated at the kitchen island. Placing a big glass of water and a banana in front of you, he moved to your side to take off your coat and sweater.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you changed," he said gently and pulled at your coat and sweater until you whined and stopped him by holding his hands.

"Excuse me, sir," you slurred out, reaching your finger out to boop San's nose at 'sir'.

"I have no idea what you're doing, but I have a boyfriend."

San had to stifle the little chuckle that threatened to spill out of his lips.  

"Don't joke (Y/n), come on. Let's get you to bed."

He tugged at your sweater and coat only to be met with a harsh glare from you again.

"Sir! I love my boyfriend very much and will not be cheating on him, thank you very much."

San's heart swelled at your love for him but the better part of him wanted to smack you for your lack of recognition.

Deciding to humour you, San left your clothes and moved to the other side of the island, peeling the banana and placing it in front of your lips.

'Oh yeah? Is your boyfriend hot?" He asked and watched with amusement as you bit the banana with a little pout, thinking long and hard.

"Sir," you said and blushed a bright red, covering your face with your hands.

"My boyfriend is the hottest," you replied and giggled at the end.

"That's good to hear," San said and peeled the banana further, stopping to give you a sip of water, pressing the straw to your lips.

"What's your boyfriend's name?" San asked, just to really kill the cat with curiosity.

"His name is..." you trailed off and San almost hit his face on the marble countertop in amusement but also frustration.

"You don't remember his name?" San mused and took out a bowl of strawberries, placing them in front of you.

"I know his name, sir. Don't be silly. His name is mountain!"

The surety in your voice as if you had hit eureka made San burst out with laughter as turned around to refill the water and throw the banana peel out.

"His name is mountain?"

You gave a determined nod and set your hands on the table in fists.

"His name is Mountain and I love him with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

Your eyes were hard and set ablaze with some kind of fire. But they also held a soft amount of love in them. Love and admiration, dripping out as honey while you talked about 'Mountain', your supposed boyfriend.

San choked a little at your confession and leaned across the kitchen island to reach you. He pressed a loving kiss to your lips and smiled at you.

You whined and pushed him back, complaining about how your boyfriend wouldn't like you kissing some other man but San heard none of it, your earlier confession ringing in his ears.

"Your boyfriend told me to tell you that he loves you too," he whispered and stroked your hair making it loll to the side as you pressed your cheek into his hand.

"That's good news, sir. Otherwise there would be a problem," you whispered back and then yawned. San could see the after-effects of your little alcohol solo party start to take its toll majorly and lifted you in his arms. You nuzzled into his neck, clinging to his body like a koala to a tree branch.

"Sir, I must say, you and Mountain smell the same. You both smell like home. My home," you murmured and then finally fell asleep, eyes drooping closed.

San could feel soft puffs of air against his neck as he shifted you around in the bed, finally unwinding your arms from his neck and pulling the blankets over you.

"I'll always be your home, baby." he whispered and cleared hair strands from your face, smiling at the little pout that had formed on your lips.

Getting into bed next to you, San inhaled as you immediately almost reflexively cuddled into his side.

Four walls created a house but home is always where the heart is and San's heart was with you; his home.

[weaver-z]

Birthmark

A short horror story by B.E.

The women in my family have port-wine birthmarks, but none ever had any as strange as mine. 

Not even my mother, who had one that stretched across her forehead like a bloodshot eye, the pale sclera-white of her skin visible under the glaze of reddish violet. She told me, when I was very young, that my grandmother had one, too, along the back of her head--she, unlike us, had been lucky enough to have one that could be hidden under a bonnet, though her blonde hair still revealed it in the summertime.

“Can I see the ones on the legs?” Thomas asks, chewing the inside of his cheek like a cow chewing its cud. I allow it, even though I am a girl, because Thomas and I are friends, alone in the center of a field of tall summer alfalfa. I can feel his eyes boring into the marks on me in fascination, as he moves around me to see my arms, at the marks on those.

“I like the winter best,” I say, pulling my skirt up. “Pa hates it. But I like it, because I can cover all of ‘em up with my clothes, even the ones on my arms.”

“They’re not so bad,” he says. “They’re not on your face, at least.

“Guess so.”

He sits in front of me in the clear space between the eden-green strands of the grass, looking down at the marks on my legs. They are strange, wobbling lines, not blotches or patches--the lowest two are at my knees, lines that wrap around the joint like the borders of a county. 

There are two more on my upper thighs, though I don’t show Thomas those--he’s still a boy, and even though he looks at my markings with nothing but fascination, I still feel a little kernel of shame rubbing at the walls of my chest. The arms are easier to show to him--there are only two marks, just too low to be covered by my short sleeves, broad and awkward unevenly-stamped lines.

“So you’ve got more? On your back?” Thomas asks, sitting on his haunches, looking at me with intent, dust-brown eyes too large for his face.

“Yes. Almost like a corset,” I say, “like a nice corset, the kind rich ladies wear with their jewels. One on my waist, like a belt. One below my shoulders. Oh, and a line down my back, a kinda wobbly one.”

“Like the laced-up part of the corset,” he says, and I nod, happy that he understands. Most boys who live in these parts wouldn’t. He moves around me, and I sit straight, lifting my long frigid-blonde braid so that he can see the very top of the line that travels down my spine, the source of the splotchy red-and-purple river. 

“You ever wish that you could have them wiped off?” He asks. “I heard that God sometimes grants big miracles if you pray for ‘em enough.”

“Maybe,” I say, doubtful. “I’ve tried it. Pa makes me pray each night, but nothing seems to work.”

“Shame about that. Real shame. Maybe God’s busy with somethin’ else--” he says, and suddenly a gunshot rings out in the distance.

He freezes, pupils dilating like a rabbit that hears a hawk, and I scramble for my boots, forcing them on over the crumbles of mud on my feet. We can both hear Pa, coming through the brush, forcing his way through it with snaps and tears and nearly inarticulate grumbling. Thomas is off like a shot, running almost on all fours as he crouches, and by the time my father reaches me, panting and huddled in the grass, my friend is nothing but a mole-trail disturbing distant strands.

Pa is a tall man--though I inherited his height, I’m only 13, and he towers over me, so broad and heavy that I am thin as grass and summer wind below him. I stand, looking up at him with a look that must look shameful, and he lowers the rifle to point at the earth, face still and steely with malice.

“I told you I didn’t want no boys ‘round,” he says, voice thick, like smoke from a bonfire. “Told you I didn’t want you foolin’ round like a little whore.”

“He didn’t do nothin’,” I say, arms wrapped around my chest. “Honest.”

“Who was it, then? And why didn’t he come see me, an’ ask if he could talk to you?” He takes my arm--not tightly, but with such strength that I couldn’t run if I tried. 

“He and I met while I was out with the chickens. He was on the road going up to town.”

“Sure he was.” Pa shoves my arm away and laughs, the sound like metal clattering to a dirt floor. “Sure, the devil ‘e was. I heard him talkin’ bout your legs, girl. Didn’t hear much, but I heard that. You think you’re the pick of the meat at the market, don’t you?”

“Pa--”

“Don’t talk, pretty girl. Don’t talk, and don’t you ever try and do this again. You’re gonna pray as long as you can tonight. I want your damn tongue to fall out before you stop praying,” and he begins to move, and now the pain comes as I stumble half-backward with him, held in a vise by my arm. 

“Pa, I’m sorry--”

“You ain’t sorry yet, Lu,” he says. He looks back at me, from under the shadow cast beneath his brows by the white sun overhead. “You ain’t sorry, yet.”

---

He makes me pray, that night, for hours and hours, for forgiveness, for something I never did. But the praying he makes me do that night is only meager practice for the praying I do during the winter.

Our chickens die when a coyote pack rolls through in the late days of fall, snarling and barking with a sound like mocking laughter. We salvage what corpses we can, and for a while, we eat well, but not well, because while we dine on fresh meat, the knowledge that something terrible to come hangs over us like the fog of their blood. The cattle start to go soon after, the first to a weak cover over a well (it falls in, it screams for hours), the second to a river, the third to disease, the rest tumbling like the articles like a rotting shelf soon after them. 

When winter comes, we have little, so little, and my father tears into his meager dollars to buy us what we can. I am grateful to him, even as the food dries up, even as he becomes silent, frighteningly silent, staring at me above the candle that lights our dinner-table with a face like a haunting.

I am not allowed to leave the house anymore.

I only cook--clean--mend--read the scraps of old newspaper used to patch the walls of the house as best I can. I make what food he finds for dinner, if he finds any, and I give more to his portion, and he says almost nothing to me except to remind me to stay in the home, to keep house and to keep out of the snowstorms and the paths of wild things. He fixes the roof and sharpens the knives--those are the only tasks he does around the house, besides force me onto my knees beside him to beg God for something for our stomachs.

And it is in cleaning that I find the box.

It is a small box, barely as long as my forearm and as shallow as the length of my hand, and it is under his bed, dislodged from a long stay deep in the shadows beneath his cot by a storm that shook the house.

I pull it slowly from beneath--it is unpainted, made of thin wood that leaves little splinters in the flesh of my thumb-joint. I remove its lid and look inside.

My mother is there, first, as I remember her--thin, short, with a look in her eyes like the hollow of a tree, unexplainably empty. The mark is clearly visible in the photograph, as she stands next to my father, mottled and dim. Neither of them are smiling. They are younger in this photograph--it is blurry, hard to make out.

Beneath that is a scrap of newspaper that I have a hard time understanding for a moment. 

Mrs. Mary J. Letts, 68; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Letts, wife of Mr. Roger Letts and mother to Mabelle Letts, which took place last Thursday due to a tragic accident involving an injury sustained to her head while riding. She is survived by her husband and daughter. 

The paper cuts off there. I don’t recognize the name of Letts, and the paper is old; I continue reading as I find another scrap.

Mrs. Mabelle Dawson, 36; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Dawson, who is survived by her husband, Mr. Arnold Dawson, and her young daughter, Lucy Dawson. Their family has our greatest sympathies. She was killed accidentally as she was cleaning a weapon owned by Mr. Arnold Dawson, who claims deepest regret that

I feel my mouth run dry and my pulse hammer against my skin like stone against a drum. That is my mother’s name--that is my name, too, faint against the paper. I don’t understand why these things are in the box, among other pictures and portraits of my mother, and, unmistakably, my mother’s mother, whose mark is just visible in one small portrait of her, clearly done by an amateur hand. I can imagine how it stretched across the back of her head, branching along her skull--I can see my own mother’s mark, clearly, in the center of her forehead.

I feel cold as the wooden floor under my feet as my eyes trace the border of the mark on her forehead for the first time. 

“Lu?” my father calls, from downstairs. “Lucy? Lu-cy?”

The starburst on her forehead is strangely jagged. Unsteady. The shape that a bullet hole would make, if someone were shot close in the head. An accident while cleaning a gun. A trauma to the back of the skull. I hear a footstep on the stairs, almost hesitant, its weight barely masked by the slowness with which my father places it down.

“Lucy?” he says. “I prayed to God for a miracle, and he told me what we ought to do. I need to see you, now.”

I can’t breathe. My throat is choked by a snare as I throw myself back, scrambling across the floor and away from the box. My skirt flies up--my legs are exposed, the lines on them obvious in their purpose.

Summers ago, I went to the village with Pa, and we went to a stall hung with pig carcasses. There, there was a picture of a sow, her legs and sides and ribs marked with uneven lines where the different cuts of meat came from. Here was the thigh--here was the shank--here was the cut you made along the spine and the stomach.

I hear a slow, low rumble of creaking wood as he stops outside the door.

“Lucy?” he says, his voice more paternal than I have ever heard it, and I begin to cry--begin to pray to anything, anyone that will listen, pray that something else kills me before he enters, and nothing does.

And the door opens--slowly, too slowly, as though I’ve had a nightmare and he’s coming to check on me like a good father should--and he sees me with the box, with the tears flowing down my face, with my chest heaving in great stops and starts.

He takes a step forward. In his hands, he holds a sharpened butcher’s knife.

[hitsuackerman]

Soul Chicken (Hawks x Reader)

Prompt: Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something....unique.

(so this was generated by an OTP one shot generator and it caught my attention :D it was... challenging to say the least but still fun!)

contains: 4 year age gap (not that ya’ll would mind), fluff

Soulmates.

This was the one thing Hawks always managed to save for later. With just how fast he likes to move, he regularly shoved the idea aside. It was as if his mouth acquired a bitter taste each time it entered his train of thought.

How did this enter his mind once more? Oh right. The two people he had saved turned out to be soulmates. Such luck for them, he supposed.

Not that he didn't care, though. This bird child-man always dreamed of seeing who the universe had paired him up with. But to his luck, the letters etched on his skin were almost cursed. Cursed to the point where he merely gave up his search.

The first words his soulmate would tell him. The first words that would open new doors for his feathers to explore. Despite keeping his smirk pasted on his face, his heart would ache when he hears people saying it.

'Hey'

Those were the words inked on his inner wrist. A 3 letter word that was as overused as the word 'you'. How in heaven's name was he supposed to find his other half with every other person greeting him 'hey' with different variations.

Munching on his piece of chicken, he cleared his desk and began to look over the files his agency prepared for him. Laid on his desk were the profiles of possible interns he could gather intel from.

"Todoroki Shoto." He read and scanned the bio data. Endeavor would not be happy if he took him in. As tempting as it would be, he placed it on the discard pile.

"Bakugo Katsuki." His pupils shrunk at the memory of this kid being chained to the post. All while trying to bite off All Might's hand. "Little too wild for my taste."

"Tokoyami Fumikage." He immediately stamped the approval sign on it. A fellow bird in his agency? Hella fun!

"(L/N) (Y/N)." The 4th placer in the UA sports festival. His eyes drifted to your age. "Huh, interesting. Eldest of the class due to late enrollment and personal issues. 18 while the rest 16."

Nodding his head, your quirk wasn't too flashy but made up for its efficiency. Similar to his Fierce Wings. With his index finger tapping on his desk, he turned to his desktop and began digging up information about you.

Orphaned at the age of 6 due to villain attack. Jumped from foster house to foster house, a trouble maker? Top 2 in the class, makes up for intelligence? Pleasing to the eyes. Not bad, if he were to put it more into thought.

Biting the last chunk of meat, he approved of your possible application in his agency.

-----

"Yami…" You nervously whispered as you gripped onto his sleeve. "I'm nervous. I don't understand why he'd include me as a possible intern "

"Nonsense. You proved yourself worthy during the Sports Festival." Tokoyami tried to reassure you. Behind you, the window gave him a grand view of the city moving fast.

The two of you were now seated snugly inside the shinkansen. Because it was in the afternoon, the train wasn't as crowded despite buying reserved seats in advance.

Tokoyami's words seemed to work. Letting go of his now crumpled sleeve, you apologized but he simply told you it was no big deal. Looking at your hero suit cases, your eyes landed on your wrist.

It always made you wonder, what situation would your soulmate say those words. It was all too… random yet specific. Rubbing your thumb on the rather long phrase, your thoughts were cut.

"Is that… what your soulmate is supposed to say?" Tokoyami asked as he read the sentences. "Rather unique to say that on your first meeting."

"Ugh. I know." You sighed and tugged your sleeve a little lower. "I honestly gave up thinking of scenarios on how I'd meet this person."

"You are of legal age. I think it would be much easier to access places. But seeing those words, maybe you just have to look for people eating?"

"That's true but I think a part of me just wants to be surprised as to how we'd meet and how we'd exchange phrases. I did think this person would be at a fast food chain or some sorts, but I'd like to think he's responsible enough."

Tokoyami simply nodded. Looking down on his wrist, he too, began to wonder what circumstances would bring him and his soulmate together.

Feeling the train come to a halt, the two of you began to exit and board off the train. It felt like a blur, to be saying farewell to faces you see everyday. Though it would only be for a week, you would miss Ochako and Tsuyu.

When the high rise buildings were now in sight, Tokoyami nudged your elbow and pointed to a hero holding up a sign with your school's name on it. As the two of you walked towards the hero, you saw how the sign truly matched Hawk's Agency.

Ah yes. Hawks.

Your anxiety began to creep back up. Why would a pro-hero like him want an orphan who went to school late intern for his agency? Was this some sort of pity party? Or was your quirk enough to catch his attention?

"Calm down, (L/N)." Your friend whispered as he opened the car door for you. You sat in the back as he sat on the passenger's seat.

"Are you all excited to meet the #2 Pro-Hero?" The hero asked as he set the car to drive. His cheeks gave off he was smiling from your angle. "He's a pretty chill guy, you know. So if ya'll are anxious, he'll only catch that and make fun of you."

"How long till we reach the office?" Tokoyami asked.

"2 blocks from now. It's that building over there."

The two of you followed where his index was pointing at. It wasn't easy to miss. The building was huge and it was evident that his office was on the top floor. From your eyes, it would be the perfect height to take off for his wings.

The hero dropped the two of you by the entrance. Thanking him for the ride, 2 sets of eyes watched as the car turned to the corner. Probably to park in the underground carpark.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

The two of you proceeded to the receptionist. Judging by your uniforms, the two of you were given key cards to enter his office on the 35th floor.

"He's still out, though. Make yourselves comfortable. He won't be taking too long!" The receptionist said with a smile as she pointed towards the glass elevator. That got you thinking fire drills must be a pain in the ass with this amount of floors.

The view going up felt as if you two were flying. The way the horizon slowly showed itself was something you could look forward to for the whole week. Your bird friend agreed as well.

When the elevator doors opened, you two were met with a frosted glass wall with 2 capital 'H' on it. Similar to what his belt had. It was nice tho. Branding on point.

Before you could enter, you heard the buzzing of a phone. Feeling it wasn't yours, you looked at Tokoyami and told him it was alright for him to take it. Telling you he'd follow suit once the call was over. Pushing the door for you, you walked into his office. 

The office was definitely expensive. Glass windows framed 3 out 4 corners, his desk was simple but you could tell that the material was durable and expensive, 2 large paintings hung on the wall as well. Most probably commissioned since it fits Hawks image.

Walking towards one painting, you were about to touch the edges when your vision began to blur. Your body felt as if it were being tugged into the air rather forcefully. Harshly spinning you around, you were face to face with the Pro-Hero himself.

Your heart raced when it sunk in that it really was him. He was more handsome in person. His piercing yellow eyes seemed to observe you. Watching your every move.

His hands began to roam your sides. Patting motions till he seemed to find what he was looking for. Taking it out from your pocket, his gloved hand now held on to your ID.

"Hey!"

His eye twitched. You were officially the 15th person who had said 'hey' to him in a span of 4 hours.

"I swear that phrase would be the death of me." Hawks reacted in an emotionless face. Trying his best to compose himself to a student who merely wanted to feel the painting. "Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck."

Though it wasn't his intent to scare you, he just thought it would make a good long running joke for the duration you would stay. He just… snapped when he heard those words coming from you.

Looking back at you, he placed you back on your feet and took off his yellow visor. A big teasing smile appearing on his features. Complete opposite to what yours had.

"Hey, take a chill pill, my little intern. I was just messin' with ya." Hawks assured you as he gave you the finger guns.

"Y-You… S-S-Sentence…" Your mind failed to function upon hearing his first to you. The same words you had memorized and knew by heart. Your eyes were desperately trying to hold on to something but all you could focus on was Hawks and his crimson red wings in front of you.

The look on your face was a mix of shock, fear, and a slight dash of awe. What did he say that made you react that way? All he commented about was…

His mind clicked and his jaw slightly dropped. His pupils enlarged when he finally bought 2 and 2 together.

"Holy pidgeon smokes…" Hawks thought out loud while nodding his head. "Looks like things are bout to get interesting, my little soul chicken~"

You couldn't help it. A soft giggle escaped your lips when he called you his 'little soul chicken'. By now, you were positive your cheeks were all sorts of red. When he took a step closer, you bit your lower lip in an attempt to calm your rapid beating heart.

"Don't bite your lip now, birdy. We just met." He said as he used his index and thumb to make you face him. Damn. You're prettier up close.

His feathers seemed to shake a bit and he let go of his touch. A second after, Tokoyami entered the door and bowed at his new mentor. After telling him there was no need to act all business like, he pointed towards the couch and told you both to sit down.

"So today," Hawks began. "I won't let you both do much. Just get settled in and take the feel of this agency."

His eyes would linger at you when he said the words 'settled in' and 'take the feel'. When he saw you understood his implied meanings, he gave you a wink and proceeded with the necessary instructions.

"Tsukuyomi. Your room would be on the 27th floor." He said and tossed the keycard. Tokoyami caught it with ease. "And you, my precious love nugget, will stay on the 30th floor."

By now your face was numb from all the heat that had traveled upwards. Expecting him to toss it, the key card was given to you by one of his feathers. Taking it from the floating feather, your breath hitched when the feather found its way to your lips. Brushing it ever so softly before returning back to his wings.

Tokoyami wasn't quite sure what was happening. He had heard that Hawks had a carefree attitude, he just didn't expect him to hit on you right then and there. (Though he did have a feeling that at one point you were bound to get bombarded with his flirtatious attempts.)

"So… Any questions?"

"What time do we start tomorrow, Sir Hawks?"

"We start at 7am. That good?"

The two of you nodded. With that, he dismissed you both and gave you free will with what you wanted to do on the first unofficial day of internship.

"Not you though, chickadee!" The way the light bounced from his golden eyes made them glow. "We still gotta talk."

Tokoyami squinted his eyes at you. His peripheral vision on Hawks. Brushing the thought aside, he excused himself and went towards the elevator.

When you heard the ding, your heart stopped when Hawks stretched his wings. Showcasing their impressive span. They began to shake a bit with each step he took. He would spread his wings and pull them back half way before extending them once more.

By the time he was in front of you, you were all smiles as he began to fold his wings alternatively. It was all too amazing, how this person had wings as a quirk. In the blink of an eye, all you could see around you were his feathers and the gorgeousness of his face.

"What was that for, Hawks?" You covered your mouth. Trying to hold in a giggle.

"Hey. Don't. I like seeing your smile." He said as he gently held your wrist, pulling it down to reveal what his eyes wanted to see. "And that little exhibition I did was a small mating call, soul chicken."

You began to fold your arm and imitate how chickens flap their wings.

"Not as impressive as yours, but I hope that did the trick!" You were now grinning from ear to ear. Seeing him chuckle at your lame attempt at flirting caused his stomach to swarm with little lovebirds.

"Oh. It definitely sealed the deal~"

His hand began to trace your arm till he stopped on your hand bringing it closer in order to see his first words meant for you.

'I swear that phrase would be the death of me. Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck.'

"I can see why your eye twitched when I said 'hey'. That's literally the most overused word." You commented when you saw his mark.

"That's what I tell myself everyday." An amused grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, his pupils shrunk and his feathers began to ruffle. "You afraid of heights, birdy?"

"Not really. No. Why?"

His arms wrapped you tightly. Bringing you chest to chest with him. His wings now spread out with the occasional flap.

"Hawks…"

"Better hug me tight, nugget. You're in for a wild ride~"

Giving your cheek a quick kiss, he flapped his wings once more. This time with a bit more force in them. You could feel your feet leaving the ground. On instinct, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

Next thing you knew, you were screaming with joy at the feeling of being swooped away from your feet. Literally.

Little did you know that Tokoyami had been watching the whole fiasco.

"Things really are going to get interesting." He said with a small smile on his face. Happy that his close friend found her soulmate.

With that he finally exited the office and made his way to his room.

[megaera-of-pigeon]

[Shining Nikki fan fiction, 3,447 words, superhero au concept courtesy of @deadcereus. Janus content courtesy of @just-love-nikki-things] 

Mercury stood outside of the door. In one arm, he was carrying a duffle bag stuffed so full it was straining at its zipper. In the other, he h​​eld a top-of-the-line luxury cat carrier. As he brought a fist up to knock on the door, he glanced down into the cat-carrier and caught the glowing golden topazes that were his cat’s eyes looking up at him.

He bit his lip and slowly lowered his fist. Was he really ready to do this?

It was much too soon, wasn’t it?

Did he really need to go to this conference?

Before he could manage to second guess his decision and get out of the building before he was spotted, the door flew open.  

“Mercury! You’re late! That’s unlike you.”

Mercury managed to tear his eyes away from Janus’ and meet the gaze of his younger half-sister. “Ophelia,” he nodded to her, banishing any trace of worry and allowing his face to settle into its comfortable frown. “Traffic was backed up.”

“Oh, no! The morning you’re to leave on your big exciting trip, too! Well, come on in; I’m all ready to see my pretty little nephew Janny-poo!”

Mercury bristled as he stepped into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. “I’ve told you not to call him that.”

Ophelia just grinned. “He likes it, though! Don’t you, Janny-poo?”

The cat in question, who’d been calmly sitting in his carrier for most of the journey like the well-behaved little gentleman he was, had perked up at the sound of Ophelia’s voice, and now started to claw at the fabric and meow in indignation. Mercury heaved a sigh and knelt down so that he could set the carrier on the floor and unzip the door. The second there was enough space open for Janus to get out, he scrambled his way out of confinement and dashed across the floor to jump into Ophelia’s waiting arms.

“Oh, I’ve missed you too, my little angel!” Ophelia cooed as she cuddled his cat into her chest and stroked his head. For his part, Janus seemed to return her greeting with a loud, rumbling purr. Mercury did his best to stamp down his jealousy at how openly affectionate his cat was acting towards his sister. It was just a fact of life that everyone loved Ophelia—animals, small children, all of their relatives. She couldn’t walk down the block without finding something or someone to befriend. It was her naivete that held the effortless charm that drew everyone in, and he’d long outgrown his envy of that particular characteristic. He had honed his own brand of ‘charm’ that served him just as well, after all.

As Mercury stood up and slid Janus’ bag off his shoulder, he happened to notice that unlike the last time he’d visited Ophelia’s apartment, there were about a dozen pairs of shoes sitting next to the front door. Several of them appeared to be thin, strappy heels, which didn't suit his sister’s style. He furrowed his brow and glanced around, and noticed some other things that had escaped his notice before: two coats hanging on the hooks; two purses sitting on the table. That was twice as many as one young woman needed.

“Is there someone else here?” He asked, gesturing towards the purses. She’d have told him if there was a girlfriend in the picture, and his sister didn’t strike him as the type to do a one night stand, so he was having trouble coming up with a logical explanation….

Ophelia’s shoulder tensed as she leaned down and released Janus, who strutted off to begin his inspection of the apartment. When she stood back up, her face had gone blank.

“Uh, yes. There is. Didn’t I mention? I have a roommate now. She moved in two weeks ago.”

Mercury gaped at her. “A roommate?” He’d never have agreed to leave Janus in an apartment with a stranger! He’d have at least had a background check done at first! “Please tell me one of your friends from London moved here and needed a place to stay, or something like that, and that you didn’t invite a random person to come live with you!”

Ophelia tucked some of her hair behind her ear and glanced at the floor. “Um. Well. I put up some flyers…”

Mercury took a deep breath and then exhaled as slowly as he could, but when he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “Where did you put them up? How many were there? And what personal information were you publicly advertising?”

“I put up maybe half a dozen here and there… you know, the coffee shops down by the college, the student center, places like that. I just had my first name and phone number, not my address! They had to call for that—”

“You’re getting a new phone number,” he said firmly, glaring at her. “God, Ophelia, how could you be so foolish? Do you even know what types of dangerous people lurk in this town? For all you know, this ‘roommate’ of yours is one of them!”

“Calm down, Ashley is fine. And I’m not changing my phone number, that’s such a hassle!”

“We can talk about it later,” Mercury said firmly, although he was already planning on instructing his assistant to take care of changing his sister’s number once he made it to the airport. “Tell me why you decided to get a roommate in the first place. We never discussed this as an option when you were moving here.”

Ophelia shrugged, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ve been struggling to make the rent on this place with my budget. I can’t move to a cheaper part of town, because if my mum comes to visit and my living situation is not up to her standards, I’d never hear the end of it! You know how she is, she’d have me moving back to London before I could even defend my choices!”

“If you need money, you are to come to me,” he said sternly. “Taking care of your rent would be nothing to me, but instead you neglect to tell me there’s an issue and decide to invite a stranger off the street into your home? How irresponsible can you get!”

Ophelia scoffed. “You’re right, it would have been nothing to you. What about for me? I can’t come running to my brother to fix every little problem I have for the rest of my life, now can I? I’m an adult, I need to find my own solutions to things. That’s being responsible. The solution to making rent on this ridiculously huge apartment that you found for me is to split the burden with a roommate!”

Mercury opened his mouth to continue berating Ophelia for her ridiculous views on something as trivial as asking for his help, but before he could, his watch beeped, notifying him that he was running out of time to get going and make his flight. Despite his personal, feline-related reluctance to leave the city right now, this conference was one he couldn’t afford to miss. He’d have to deal with Ophelia’s roommate situation when he got back… although there was one thing that had to happen. “Where is this ‘Ashley’? I need to meet her before I leave Janus here.”

“Is that really necessary—?”

“The other solution is for you to go pack a bag right now, and go stay with Janus at my house for the week. I am not leaving my cat in the hands of someone I’ve never met!”

Ophelia glared back at him for a long minute, before finally sighing and looking over her shoulder. “Hey, Ashley,” she called. “Can you come here?”

A moment later, light footsteps sounded down the hall as the mysterious roommate approached. “What do you need now? Is your brother gone yet?”

The owner of the voice turned out to be a slender young woman with long, dark hair, and large, bright blue eyes. With her high cheekbones, symmetrical facial features, and full, red-tinted lips, she’d be considered conventionally attractive in most people’s estimation—but most people were incapable of looking past a surface appearance and judging what truly lurked beneath. And Mercury happened to know first hand that this woman’s angelic beauty was all a lie; she was none other than Lilith, a master manipulator and a scourge he’d thought he banished from his city long ago.

For her part, Lilith looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. Her eyes grew wide as she glanced between Mercury and Ophelia, and Mercury could almost see the wheels turning in her scheming little brain. After a moment though, her neutral mask fell back into place and she stuck out her hand. “You must be the big brother I’ve heard far too little about. I’m Ashley; I moved in with Ophelia not too long ago.”

“Ashley?” He tried a smile, so as not to make Ophelia suspicious of any prior involvement with her new ‘roommate’, but he couldn’t stop it from turning into a sneer as he shook her hand, squeezing more firmly than was strictly necessary. “And what brings you here?”

A sneer of her own pulled at Lilith’s lips as she returned his iron handshake with just as much force. “Just a job. I won’t bore you with the details; from what I hear, you’re quite busy. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She nodded to the door behind him, and he decided that her smug little dismissal wasn’t going to do at all.

He dropped her hand and stepped back, his eyes never leaving Lilith’s. “Ophelia; I’d like to have a word with Ashley for a moment. I just need to make her understand the responsibility that comes with living in the same apartment as my… cat.”

Ophelia glanced between the two of them and seemed hesitant to leave them alone, but he gave her a pointed stare, and that was enough for her to clear her throat. “Alright, I’ll just go find Janus wherever he’s wandered off to so you can say goodbye. Uh. Be nice.”

Once his sister had disappeared further into her apartment, Mercury stepped closer to Lilith again so he could tower over her and hiss into her ear. “What the fuck are you playing at? You moved in with my sister?”

“Well I didn’t know she was your sister until two minutes ago,” Lilith snapped, taking a step back and crossing her arms while glaring up at him. “Trust me, if I had, I definitely wouldn’t have signed the damn lease.”

Mercury glared at her for a minute, trying to decide if he should believe her. Because honestly, what were the odds that his old, forgotten rival would move in with one of his family members? Although, no one at the League besides his assistant even knew he had a sister, as he’d hidden her existence for years, and Ophelia didn’t know what he actually did for a living, so it was somewhat plausible that this was just an unhappy accident. In either case…

“You’ll have to move out immediately.”

Lilith gaped at him. “What? No way! I just finished unpacking yesterday, and I already did all the paperwork—I can’t afford to break a lease!”

Mercury narrowed his eyes. “So whatever ‘job’ lured you back to my city doesn’t even pay well? I’m very curious to know the details.”

She scoffed and flipped her head to send her curtain of dark hair back back over her shoulder. “My life these days is none of your business, actually. As is who I’ve chosen to be my roommate. Trust me, I’m not stupid enough to do anything to your precious little kitten while Ophelia is catsitting. So you can go ahead and go now. We wouldn’t want you to miss your big photo op with the UN.”

“Your life became my business when you chose to involve yourself in my sister’s affairs,” he said through gritted teeth. “And that’s another thing—you can not say a word to Ophelia about our past or reveal my secret identity.”

Lilith blinked several times. “Wait… she doesn’t know that you’re Silver Boy?”

“It’s Silver Bullet now,” he snapped. “And no, she does not; I don’t like to bring my work home with me. She’s clueless, and she will stay that way if you know what’s good for you.”

Lilith furrowed her brow, but nodded slowly. “My past is dead and buried, so she won’t hear it from me.”

Mercury pursed his lips, but glanced at his watch. He would have preferred to keep talking so he could get more information about Lilith’s sudden return as well as impress upon her further the importance of keeping his secret from Ophelia, but he really had to get going this time.

“Hey, are you two done yet?” Ophelia asked as she entered the room again, this time with a wriggling Janus in her arms. “I thought you had a flight to catch.”

“I’ll have to leave in a minute,” Mercury confirmed, stepping closer to take Janus from her so he could say goodbye. Learning that Ophelia had a roommate and then Lilith’s reappearance had distracted him from his previous worries, but now they all came rushing back as he was moments away from stepping out the door. Janus leaned his head into Mercury’s chest and purred softly, and all Mercury could think of was how he was abandoning his son. They hadn’t been apart for any extended period of time since Janus had come home with him! If Lilith hadn’t been standing there, he would have told Janus that he loved him very much and would be back soon, that he was sorry to have to go and would rather just stay with him. As it was, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a firm kiss atop Janus’ head in between his ears.

“Cute cat you’ve got there,” Lilith said, and Mercury glared at her again. “How old is he?”

“About six months,” Ophelia answered as she reached out to stroke Janus’ fur. “Mercury found him when he was a kitten. Isn’t he just the best little boy?”

“You found a kitten six months ago, huh? I just bet there’s some great pictures of the two of you together back then.” Lilith smirked at him, and Mercury knew that she’d just figured it out. His grip on Janus tightened.

About six months ago, he—well, the superhero known as Silver Bullet—had raided an underground lab belonging to the evil scientist known as Gray Raven. After the fight, the League’s Media Liaison had shown up and had him pose for pictures holding some of the rescued animal test subjects—including a very young black kitten. After the photos, the League’s cleanup crew had taken all of the animals away so the results of Gray Raven’s experiments could be professionally monitored. It wasn’t until he’d gotten home that night that he’d realized the tiny black kitten he’d posed with had somehow snuck its way into his bag as he was leaving, and fallen asleep!

He should have notified his handlers immediately and turned the kitten over to the League like the rest of the rescued animals, but… he couldn’t bring himself to part with the little guy. So the kitten was named Janus and became his companion, and no one at work needed to know he’d gotten a cat. Ophelia had only found out after an unannounced visit shortly after that, which he’d never regretted, at least until now. Her mother had allowed her to have cats and other pets while growing up, an indulgence their father never allowed for him, so she had been able to fill him in on some of the knowledge he was lacking. It also meant that he didn’t have to trust a stranger in his home or consider boarding his precious cat when compelled to travel for work.

If he’d known Lilith would be in the picture, though…  

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew it would be his assistant checking up on him to make sure he was on track to make his schedule. There really was no more time to linger.

Mercury sighed as he released Janus and tried to brush some of the cat hair off of his suit. He kept a lint roller in his car, so the rest of the evidence would be gone by the time he made it to the airport. “I really need to go now, but this discussion isn’t over,” he said, glancing at Lilith before fixing his gaze on Ophelia, who had the good sense to appear guilty about the shock she’d put him through at such an inopportune time. “I’ll see you in a week. Behave yourselves until then.” After a forced smile and quick hug from Ophelia, he turned and left. With every step he took away from the door, he was regretting his decision. It had been hard enough to agree to this when it was just leaving his cat with his sister, but now she was there!

He swore to himself that if any harm came to his cat or his sister and he could find the slightest bit of fault with her, then that demon woman would have hell to pay.

X

“So.” Ashley was standing with her arms crossed and was glaring at the door that Mercury had vanished through just minutes ago. “Your brother is Silver Boy.”

Ophelia took a deep breath and stood up from where she’d knelt to comfort Janus, who had started mewling in protest when his dad left, but had quickly been soothed when she dug out some cat treats from his bag. “Well he’s the Silver Bullet, now. The League rebranded him when he turned twenty.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Right. Rebranding. I’m forever thankful I ditched the League before I had to go through my own stupid ‘image update’. But regardless of what he goes by these days, did it not occur to you that this fact might be something I needed to know? We’re supposed to be partners!”

Ophelia crossed her arms to match Ashely’s stance. “You’re the one who said that just because we’re assigned partners doesn’t mean we’ve got to spill all of our secrets! You weren’t supposed to meet him in the first place, I told you to move your stuff from the entryway and keep quiet while he was here!”

She scoffed. “I forgot, ok? But this is a pretty big secret, a little heads up might have been nice! And he thinks you don’t know? What’s that about?”

“He and dad always made such a big effort to keep their identities from me when I came to visit, I didn’t have the heart to tell them mum had spilled the beans ages ago. So I played dumb… and so they just keep assuming that I am dumb. Anyway, it works to our advantage now, right? If I had been part of his Super world when my powers showed up, there’s no way I’d get a chance to complete the Justicar Trial with you. I know him; he’d have me carted off to the League and working as a registered Superhero on his team faster than you could say ‘Solar Flare’!”

“Right. Does Zoey know?”

“Zoey knows everything,” Ophelia confirmed, and Ashley finally relaxed her arms and shook her head.

“Well, as long as Ms. Butterfly is in on it, I suppose I can’t complain. She’ll have made all her little plans with him in mind. Your brother has no idea you’re powered?”

“None whatsoever, and it’s going to stay that way for as long as possible.” Ophelia tried to fix Ashley with a fierce stare to let her know Ophelia meant business. She knew she wasn’t nearly as capable of intimidation as her brother, but she had picked up a few things from him.

Ashley just scoffed. “No need to worry about him hearing it from me; I’d have been happy never to see his face again, and shall strive to avoid him as much as humanly possible while living with his sister. Next question: that cat. You do realize it came from an evil scientist’s lab, likely has some sort of mutant ability as a result, and will now be roaming freely around our apartment?”

That made Ophelia smile. “Yes, I know that, and understand where your concern is coming from, but there’s something you have failed to consider.”

“And what’s that?”

“He might be an evil science experiment, but Janus is also a very good boy.”

[darktammy]

The right kinda of love (ch9)

{Warning: loving making smut I guess you can say. Enjoy my readers.}

Tag: @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @bss-babygirl @living-the-life-1996 @moxleybabe @sassymox @wrestlersownmyheart @lghockey @fabulousrockstar @bluepunkrock

Later on that night Y/n was sitting by the pool. It was late and she was exited for tomorrow morning. She couldn’t wait to meet up with Cassidy for their trip. While she was thinking about all the things they can do she felt someone kick the side of her arm. “Hey how are ya?” Jon ask. “I’m fine just enjoying the night sky for now. Then I’ll get some shut eyes because in the morning I’m heading out.” She told him. Jon nodded as he sat down next to her. “Hey I’m sorry about what I did, I was only trying to protect you that’s all.” She nodded. “I know and I’m sorry too. Most of all I’m so so sorry about your sister Rebecca. I didn’t mean to say all those things.”

You told him as a small tear fell from your face. Jon nodded. “No it’s alright, I just didn’t think she would change. Every time I try to help her, she would always fall back into the same dark hole.” Jon said as he look up into the sky. “I still wish I could have help her out more.” He said. “You did all you could Jon. Remember you can’t always help them when you have your own life. Plus they need to help themselves because if they don’t then they're just going to be weak.” Y/n told him. Jon nodded his head as he look over at Y/n with a smile. Y/n move over to Jon giving him and hug.

The next morning came and you was at the airport. You told Renee and Jon that you was going to take a taxi there due to the fact that you didn’t want Jon to see you with Cassidy. You walk all the way the exit that showed one the ticket. You look around to see if you can spot him. “Damn it Cassidy where are you?” She said starting to worry herself. Then after a few minutes she felt some strong arms hugging her from behind. “Hey they're my sweet strawberry.” She turn around with a smile on her face. “Cassidy I thought I’ll never see you.” She said as she hugged him, Cassidy took Y/n hand as they walk to their flight.

While on the airplane Cassidy had his shades on making Y/n smile. She took them off just so she can see his light brown beautiful eyes of his. He smiled at her as she look up into him. “I heard that you're not suppose to look into your eyes. If you do then that means you're in for a fight. Is that true?” She smiled at him. He lean in and whisper into her ear. “Let’s find out when we get there.” He wink at her with a smile.

One the plane landed they both got there bagging then got a rental car. Cassidy drove the car all the way to the farm house where his grand parents once lived. Cassidy park the car seeing the smile on her face. “OMG!! This place is so pretty.” She said getting out of the car. She look around to see the big blue barn house on the far left while on the right you can see some of the cows. “This place look great Cassidy.” She said. “Oh yeah then you're going to love the barn house once we unpack.” He said. She smiled as they both walk into the house.

She meet Cassidy grandparents for the first time. Such lovely kind people as they welcome her in with open arms. Once they settle in the same bedroom the both laid down on the bed. “So looks like where sharing a room.” Cassidy said. Y/n laugh as she look up at him. “Yeah sound like fun.” She told him.

It was late in the day so Cassidy was helping his grandfather move some cows back into the barn. Y/n watch him without his shirt on which had her turn on a little. She keep her eyes on his body seeing his arms flex as he pulled the cows rope. Y/n watch him as her smile came on her face. Cassidy stop to look over at her. “Ya wanna help me out?” Waking Y/n up from her daydream. “Uh I’m sorry what?” She ask making him laugh. She look down embarrassing herself.

It was night time and Y/n was done taking a shower. She wrap herself up with a towel as she walk out of the bathroom. She dry herself then she put on her nightgown now knowing she’s not staying at Jon and Renee’s home. She laid in the bed as she smiled. “Going to bed so soon?” She look over to see Cassidy standing by the door. “Well I mean all this excited me got me a little tried.” She said sitting up in bed. Cassidy took his pants off and toss them in the hamper. Then he walk into the bathroom she smile as she tried not to fall a sleep. A few minutes later Cassidy walk out with his towel wrap around his hip. He look to see Y/n was already a sleep. He walk up to her giving her a kiss on forehead. “Goodnight sweetheart.” He told her.

In the morning Y/n smiled as she ate the morning breakfast that Cassidy’s grandmother made. “My dear were heading into the city for somethings if that’s ok with you?” She nodded. “Sure I would love to.” She told her. Cassidy walk in as he see breakfast ready. “Thanks grandma.” He gave her a kiss on her head. After breakfast was done Y/n got into the car with his grandmother and they drove off. “Boy she’s nice.” Cassidy look back at his grandfather. “Yeah she’s nice she’s a keeper.” Cassidy laugh as he help his grandfather out with the chores on the farm.

Y/n was helping the woman out with a few things in the supermarket. “So my dear how long have you both been dating?” She look at Y/n. “Oh no I mean we work together but where not dating.” She told her. She nodded as she walk with Y/n. “Well his a good boy I know that for sure. I mean the last women he was with was a big mess.” Y/n look at her. “Who was the other woman if you don’t mind me asking.” Cassidy’s grandmother smiled as she look at her. “Oh this woman was name Penelope oh my she gave him a hard time. She was always thinking about herself never wondering if he was ok. She was hell for him.” She told her. “But it don’t matter because I now can see that smile that I missed so much.” Y/n smiled at her as they finish up their food shopping.

Cassidy was walking around his room until his phone rang it showed Penelope, he sigh as he answers. “Yeah?” He said annoyed. “Well hey I see you left without me, so what’s up you went back to the farm with your grandparents?” Cassidy smirk, “Nah I’m here with my mother and she really hates you.” He said. She laugh as she look down. “Hey listen when you get back I’ll be waiting for you, I mean after all Cassidy we all live in the same apartment building right?” He shook his head after seeing Y/n parking the car. “Yeah Penelope I got to go bye.” Cassidy end the called. “Cassidy! Hey Cassidy damn it!” She said stamping her feet.

Y/n helped the grandmother with the bags as Cassidy came down taking the bags out of his grandmother hand. “I got it you should sit down and relax.” Cassidy had put the bags down on the table. “Oh you do so much.” She said walking away. Y/n started taking the stuff out and putting them away. Cassidy walk over to Y/n as he put his arms around her hips then he lay his head on top of hers. “I’m happy that your here Y/n. That means a lot to me.” She smiled as she puts her hands on his arms. “I’m glad I’m here with you Cassidy.” She smiled.

Renee was sitting on the couch drinking water. “So how is everything so far?” Y/n smiled as she sat down on the bed. Everything is fine. I mean I love it out here. I mean it’s like a breath of fresh air.” She laid down on her bed. “Well what did you two do, I mean did you guys do it yet?” Y/n look at her phone confuse. “What no I’ve only been here for like three days and nothing.” She told her. Renee laugh a little. “Oh Y/n you and I both know your head over heels for this man. I think you should tell him how you feel. Let him know but try not to show it please I mean come on you both are sharing the same bed.” Renee told her. Y/n smiled as she look up at the ceiling. “Yeah got it sis I’ll let you go, and yes I will be there with you so that way I know the sex of the baby. Love you sis.” Renee said the same as they both ended the call.

Y/n got up and look out the window to see Cassidy helping his grandfather fixing the trunk. She watch him without his shirt on, which turn her on. She spent three days with him sleep in the same bed with him. Watch him walk around with a towel on which turn her on more then she can count.

Cassidy look up at the window and wave at her, Y/n wave back as she bit her bottom lips. She move away as she start to breath heavy she was turn on once again. Feeling her nipples as they both are hard. She knew she was wet from seeing him. She slowly moves her hand down her pants. She moves both her finger down between her clit. She saw already wet from just thinking about him. She start to rub herself softly as she close her eyes all she can see was Cassidy. Seeing his face, his body watching him getting close to her like that. She quietly moan under her breath as she though about him touching her. Feeling his lips on her body. Beginning him not to stop the madness that she’s feeling. She whisper to herself. “Oh Cassidy please don’t hold back.” She told herself. She moves faster and faster until she finally it’s her high. Her body shakes as she finally move her hand away as she was out of breath a little. “Oh god I need to clean myself up.” She said walking into the bathroom.

It was late at night Y/n was sitting inside the barn house watching AEW. She heard Cassidy walk in. “Hey there you are. It’s raining outside I think we should be inside the house.” He said sitting next to her. “Nah I love the rain its calming makes me feel happy.” She told him. He nodded while he put his arm around her. “Hey Cassidy?” She said putting her phone down. Cassidy look down at her. “Yeah?” He told her. Y/n had a nerves look on her face. “Will it be odd if someone told you that they care about you?” Cassidy look at her confuse.

Y/n laid on her back while she look up at him. “Hey I really wanna tell you something Cassidy.” He smiled as he move right on top of her. “Cassidy I…love….I love you so much.” She told him making Cassidy lean in giving her a deep passion kiss. Y/n wrap her arms around his neck. Cassidy broke the kiss as he pulled her shirt over her head. Then he rip her bra off as she giggles. Cassidy had a smile on his face then he grab her breast and start to suck on her nipple. Y/n start to moan with pleasure. Slowly Cassidy was bitting lightly on her nipple as he heard her say his name a few times. “Oh Cassidy yes please.” She begged him.

Cassidy lefts his head up as he start to pull her pants off. Now seeing her in her panty he smiled. “How should handle you Y/n uh?” She was confuse at his words. “After you wave back at me I ran up stairs to see if you can help out but, instead I got to see a free show.” He said leaning in. “It was so fucking hot that I got hard so fast that all I can think about was doing this.” Cassidy rip her panty off as he open her legs. With out warning he spat in his hand lean in and start to kiss her clit while sticking two fingers inside her. Y/n start to man loud as she put her hand on her head.

Y/n look down at Cassidy as she watch him eat her out like a mad dog. Like he never ate anything for days. She keep moan out his name as she move one of her hand down to his head. Cassidy start to pump start in while he lick her clit. “Oh…god…yes…I’m getting close please…d.don’t…st…stop!” She yelled out. Cassidy stop what he was doing pulling his finger out her making Y/n look up him confuse. “What the hell?!” She said. Cassidy smiled as he undone his pants. Slowly he pulled his pants down. Then she saw him fully hard and ready. She smiled as she got up on all fours. “Does my little girl want his?” She smiled as he crawl up to him. “Yes daddy.” She said smiling up at him. Slowly she took his cock into her hands and slowly stroke him making him moan. “Oh baby.” Cassidy whisper. Y/n slowly start to put him inside her mouth slowly sucking him with enjoyment.

Cassidy start to feel excited while she keep bobbing her head back and forth. Her hand wraps around his hard cock making him look down at her beaming with joy. Cassidy grab a fist full of her hair as he lean back in an angle just so he can pump himself into her mouth. Y/n look up at him looking happy as she felt him hitting her throat. After a few more pumps he stop letting her head up then kissing her. “If I keep that up then I would have came.” Cassidy told her. She nodded as she kiss him right back.

Cassidy turn Y/n around making her get on all four as she look back at him. Cassidy stared at Y/n while entering her slowly. She start to moan when he enter her slowly. They both moan at the same time Cassidy not wasting anytime thrusting Y/n. Y/n look at Cassidy heartfelt gazed in her eyes. Cassidy keep his eyes on her while pumping her. “Oh god Cassidy I love you so much.” He stop pulling out of her making her whine a little. He grab her making her lay on her back. He force himself back inside her once again. Y/n yelled his name out again. They both glanced into each other eyes.

Cassidy was trusting Y/n hard making her moan loud. She felt the strong emotional connection with Cassidy while he focused on her. “Oh Cassidy…oh you feel so good inside me. I don’t want this to stop please.” She begged him once again. Without one word Cassidy start to slow down while he lean in kissing Y/n on the lips. What they both felt together was the stars finally alone with one another. Their love has finally shown for each other. They both caress each other with love nether one will to submit. Y/n was already feeling herself getting close. She tap Cassidy hard on his arm. “Oh god Cassidy please… I’m coming I’m so close.” She cry out. Cassidy without thinking start to thrust harder, faster just so he too can come alone with her. “Hold on babe I’m getting close.” They both watched each other as they both hit their climax together while the sound of thunder was heard.

Cassidy look down at her with a smile on his face. “Please tell me you enjoyed that?” He ask. She responded “I love it baby.” She kissing him on the lips.