#i made this for exactly the reason you think i did

[kiyoomiee]

one. two. three. four.

After that pool party incident, Sukuna tried his best to stay away from you. But how could he when you're literally everywhere?

Walking into the kitchen in the morning to find you cooking breakfast in one of his oversized shirts that Yuuji must've mistook as his and let you borrow it. The way it barely covered your thighs had him gripping his coffee mug too tight. Fucking sinful.

Running into you in the hallway after your shower, hair wet and skin flushed from the hot water. The scent of your shampoo and body wash lingering in the air long enough for him to get addicted to it even after you're gone.

Sukuna can sense that you're trying to avoid him too.

You started waiting until you hear his bedroom door close before going out of your room. You would sometimes eat your meals alone just to avoid him in the kitchen.

It was driving him insane. He wanted to avoid you, yet he can't stop seeking you out when you're gone from his sight.

He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he hated it. Hated how his body reacted every time you were near. Hated how his eyes followed you whenever you entered a room.

But most of all, he hated how you made him feel things he never felt before.

“You've been spacing out a lot lately. Everything okay?” Yuuji's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Shut up.” Sukuna grunts. They were watching Yuuji's favorite movie, yet Sukuna's focus was anywhere but the screen in front of him.

His brother was more perceptive around others, contrary to other people's thoughts. Yuuji noticed his lingering eyes whenever you're around.

Where are you? You aren't home yet.

“She's sleeping over Nobara's dorm tonight, if that's what you're worried about.” Yuuji mentioned as if he can read thoughts, and watched as his brother's expression darken.

“Not worried.” Liar. Just the mention of you had his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He needed to get his shit together. You were his brother's best friend, for fuck's sake. Off limits. Forbidden. Young. Not his type.

Lies. lies. lies.

One night, Sukuna came home late from work, pissed over a client who tried to lowball him about their tattoo design which he spent fucking hours on.

He found you in the kitchen, humming softly while washing dishes. He went straight for the cupboard, he desperately needs a drink tonight.

“Oh, you're home. I saved some food for you in the fridge. Have you eaten dinner yet? I'll heat it up for you.” You turned the faucet off and faced him when a gentle smile on your face.

Even after being rude to you in countless occasions, you still manage to spare him that smile of yours. Fuck, you're too good for him. Add that to the fucking list of reasons why he can't have you.

“Are you looking for liquor? I moved it over the next shelf.”

The sight of you in his space, looking so comfortable and domestic, made something snap inside him.

“Can you stop moving my fucking things around?” he growled.

“I was just cleaning-”

“I don't care what you were doing. This is my house, I want my shit exactly where I left it.” You flinched at his harsh and spiteful tone.

Why did he have to be so mean?

“What the fuck is your problem, Sukuna? Why do you hate me so much?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sukuna froze, his jaw clenching. Hate you?

“I stayed out of your way. I avoid bumping into you everyday. I tried to do something nice yet you still look at me like I disgust you. I live like a fucking ghost in this house. So tell me what I've done to make you hate me so much?”Your lips quivered as you rambled on.

You were right. You're like a ghost that haunted him even in his dreams. In his dreams where he can touch you and own you freely, a beautiful nightmare that he doesn't want to end.

As he stares at you, his thoughts became more clear. If only he could actually hate you instead of wanting you so desperately that it made him feel like he was losing his mind.

“I don't hate you.” He said through gritted teeth. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “That's the fucking problem.”

—————————————————————

taglist: @emyyy007 @thebumbqueen @domainofmarie @cheriiepies @jumpinjaxx @mothstvrnz @grveyrd4 @tojisbabymommasblog @realalpacorn @starriesworlds @go-go-gadget-autism @ieathairs @oidloid @krispywhisperswhispers @satorupied @zeunys @chosos-prettyprincess

[siri-ike]

I couldn't stop thinking about this so here's more.

"Here, I'll take that for you."

Gar hissed and held the baby away from The Flashes reach.

"Why? So you can have all the credit?" Dick accused. "We rescued them, not you."

"Them?" Batmans expression never changed, but Dick could tell he was in trouble.

"There was a girl, too. But she and Nadia disappeared after the skeleton room."

"What do you mean "Skelton room"?" Why is Flash even here? This isn't his city. And he's not Dicks dad.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Dick pointed at the door in the stairs. "There's a huge dungeon in there. Bunch'a dead people, and a giant room full of skeletons in robes. That's where we found the girl and the baby. She and Nadia should still be in there unless they found some other way out."

Batman and Flash exchanged a look. Well, Flash had a look, Batman barely made eyecontact.

"If there are two girls still down there, that takes presidence."

"I'll take these three home."

Dick and Gar followed Batman to his car. So did a snitch who does not deserve to get mentioned by name.

"I'm sorry." Wally someone whimpered.

"What's that? Garfield, did you say something? It couldn't have been anyone else." Dick bitched.

Not once did Batman try to stop his son from mean girls-ing another child all the way to the hotel his uncle Barry was staying at. Whenever he looked in the backseat, his eyes were on the newborn, and the 7 year old holding it.

Dick noticed ofcorse. Batman doesn't drive this slowly or carefully. What happened to "That's what belts are for."? All because there's a stupid baby in the car? Wait, Dick, stop. What are you thinking? That's completely reasonable. Dick breathed in and out. It's Wally who betrayed you, not the baby.

"Alfred, prepare a spare bedroom." Batman said to the car radio.

"Uhm, hey, Batman. We need to go to Wayne Manor." Dick tried to save the seacret ID.

"They're both coming with us."

WHAT? Does he just give out his real name to any child he comes across!? You can't just go from having no kids to having two and a baby in two weeks. That's ridiculous. And Gars, just some random kid from a Gala, there's no way you could send him into battle. Baby's no Robin, either.

Not that it mattered, Gar didn't react in the slightest. He just stared at that baby, like he was obsessed with it.

"Careful, he's possessive." Batman addressed Alfred.

"Wow, I Can Not beliEve I am in the BatCAve, a place I have never been befOre." Dick lied.

"Robin, with me."

Dick turned to Gar. "That's just a nickname. Plenty of people call me that. It's unrelated to anything else." He chased Batman to a different part of the cave.

Meanwhile, Alfred tended their guests. He crouched down to Gars level. "Son, I'm sure you're tired. I've a room ready for you upstairs. A spotless one, I might add." Alfred gave a sassy half-smile. "And I happen to be a physician as well. I assure you I can take excellent care of a baby." Alfred reach for Gars hand who almost bit him in return. "Perhaps not." Alfred stepped back and gar sat down on the floor. He was clearly tired, but for some reason, he wouldn't let go of the baby. It slept so peacefully. It probably wouldn't even notice. Alfred straitened up. "I expect you to use your words Master Logan."

There was a sudden shift in Gars' eyes. In an instant, hostility and fear were replaced with confusion and softness. It was like he he finally caught his breath. He looked around like he had no clue how he got there.

"Master Logan?"

Gar looked at Alfred like he could start weeping at any moment.

"Stay here." Alfred stepped away for no more than tree minutes, but when he returned, his guests weren't there. Alfred and Bruce searched the batcave for hours while Dick put himself to bed for once.

That night sparked two changes for the family. Batman installed security cameras everywhere in the cave and the house. And a new no sleeping in your suit rule was implemented.

Why would Clockwork de-age Danny and then just leave him in Gotham for Batman to steal? No, he'd raise that boy himself. Fuck letting others get their grubby mitts on his new son. He wants to make sure he doesn't turn evil like Dan and this is the only way he knows it will work 100%.

That is until someone summons the ancient of time and gets a baby because the portal was a little to the left.

Now Clockwork is sending ghosts to go retrieve the boy since he can't leave the realms.

[dearru]

spotlight | ft. h.iwaizumi

-> pairing: iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader | sfw | cw: cursing, oikawa is here too, not proofread | wc: 948 | mlist 

-> synopsis: iwa has always avoided the spotlight, but your attention feels different.

The spotlight has never been a friend to Iwaizumi. 

Even during his six-year stint as the ace of two powerhouse schools, he’d always felt it was cumbersome to be treated as someone of eminence. He quickly learned that he preferred to be a quiet constant rather than the center of attention. Serving as a pillar of strength for his teammates to lean on, even if it went unnoticed, was better than acting as a “star player.” 

It wasn’t until adulthood that he realized this was probably one of the reasons why he and Oikawa were such good friends. 

Notoriety comes naturally to some people, and unlike himself, Oikawa is one of them. He wore the crown bestowed upon people of extraordinary talent with such grace that he made it easy to live in his shadow. And with the fickle spotlight always on the setter, Iwaizumi could do what he did best– act as a foundation where others could build their victories. 

He spent years ingraining the art being overlooked into his very being. Even now, long after his volleyball career had ended, it still felt like second nature, especially when his friend came to visit. 

So when you– easily one of the most attractive people he’s ever seen– approach the table he and his old teammate sit at for lunch, he doesn’t even entertain the possibility that you’re here for him. 

“Um, hi.” You stutter. 

The soles of your shoes dig into the slatted floors, and he can’t help but find your sheepishness rather endearing. Your voice, soft and hesitant, complements the restaurant’s lovely atmosphere. It leaves him almost breathless. 

You have a universal allure about you that makes Iwaizumi wonder if even Oikawa, with his questionable taste, would have the sense to recognize your beauty. 

“Hey,” Oikawa says, flashing his classic smile at you. Iwaizumi gives you a simple nod in return, watching as a situation he’s been in many times unfolds in front of him. 

He knows precisely how this will play out. 

You’ll ask for Oikawa’s information, and he’ll happily give it to you. The two of you will then exchange a few messages before he eventually charms you into a dinner that Iwaizumi will inevitably hear all about.

Maybe you’ll finally be the one to capture Oikawa’s heart. You’re cute enough to. 

“Could I have your number?” You mumble, jerking your phone towards them. The gesture is much too bashful for someone as stunning as you. With how you look, he thinks having some degree of assuredness would suit you. You could have anyone you want. 

A brief still falls over the moment, and Iwaizumi almost laughs at how masterful Oikawa is at building just enough tension. He can control a room so well. 

Oikawa grins, reaching for your phone like a prize to be had. 

Everything is going exactly as Iwaizumi expected it to. 

Until you frown. 

“Uh– sorry.” You stammer, biting the inside of your cheek before shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi. Your phone moves just out of Oikawa’s grasp and centers itself in front of him instead. 

“I was actually asking for yours.” 

Iwaizumi feels the world shift off its axis. 

It’s not the first time he’s been asked for his number. He does pretty well for himself when Oikawa’s not around, but regardless, he finds himself nearly forgetting how to speak.

His face feels flush from the intensity of Oikawa’s stare. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches his friend’s open-mouthed gape and comically red ears. If he were any less shocked, he’d laugh hysterically at Oikawa’s mortified disposition.

“Yeah, of course you can have it.”

Iwaizumi concludes he must have suffered from a mini-episode of amnesia when he looks down and realizes that, at some point during this exchange, he’s reached for your phone. Still startled by what’s transpired, he traces his fingers against the smooth edge of your case to ground him.

He’s about to type his number in when he realizes he should probably say something else to you. 

“My name’s Iwaizumi. What’s yours?” 

You giggle and introduce yourself. 

Fuck. Even your name is pretty. 

A warm feeling blooms in his chest, and he looks up to see your gleeful expression. Your shoulders are much more relaxed than they were before, and your shoes are no longer digging into the floor. 

You seem relieved. It’s confusing. 

Did you really think he would say no to someone like you?

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles once he’s entered his information, trying to be as suave as possible while ignoring the rapid beat of his heart. He stretches his arm out to give your phone back, and a jolt of electricity shoots between his fingertips when your hand brushes against his. 

“It was nice to meet you, too.” You echo with a new confidence. “I’ll text you.” 

“I’ll count on it.” 

You spin on your heels and walk away. When you’re out of earshot, he jumps from the sensation of a hand slapping his back. 

“I’ll count on it.” Oikawa repeats mockingly, lips pressed into a thin line of amusement. “I didn’t know you were so smooth, Iwa.” 

He rolls his eyes, but despite himself, he feels heat creep to the back of his neck.

“Shut up, Oikawa.” 

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’d be off my game too if I were you and someone asked for your number over mine.” 

Oikawa’s maniacal laughter sobers Iwaizumi and fills him with enough gall to punch him in the gut. Though, the sounds of his friend’s complaints fade into the background as an unexpected sense of satisfaction courses through his veins. 

Maybe, every once in a while, Iwaizumi wouldn’t mind stealing the spotlight for a moment.

–a/n: i blame @cherrysurf for this iwa brainrot.

[jjjjisun]

The Concert

Eunha X Male Reader | 11571 words

TW: Incest

—

"See ya mom!" my little sister Eunha shouted as she headed out the door.

She was going to her friend Umji's for a sleepover or something. If you asked me, the little denim skirt she was wearing under her poor-attempt-to-cover-it jacket said Umji's parents probably weren't home and it probably wasn't going to be just her and the other girls. More likely it would involve as much booze as high school kids could get their hands on and a bunch of horny teenagers leering at my little sister's outfit. I cringed at the thought, but she'd gotten past my parents so... whatever, I wasn't going to cause trouble.

Truthfully, I wasn't being completely honest with my parents either. Then again, they wouldn't get nearly as upset with me if I wasn't telling the truth as Eunha. I was in college and she was in high school. After all the shit I'd pulled in my senior year, my little sis was unlikely to get away with anything. She was lucky to sneak by without them seeing what she was wearing as she walked out the door. Her bare legs weren't exactly easy to miss.

It wasn't the first time either. Only two weeks ago I'd found Eunha passed out on the back stoop to our house. Obviously she knew some of the same tricks as I; if you were just quiet enough when opening the back door you could avoid walking past our parents' room on the way to your own after curfew.

I was on my way in and there was my little sis "sleeping" with her head against the post as if she'd just decided to take a seat on the way in, or so she told me when I shook her awake. But before I did... well I couldn't just un-see what she was wearing; besides, I hadn't the wits to complain. A little skirt that was fanned out where she sat, a snug cotton tank top that's black in color complemented her skin perfectly... she looked cute. I remember thinking then that if she was just another girl at the party I was coming from I probably would have tried to take her home.

That night she had gotten a little too drunk and walked home; she needed every bit of the support I offered as I took her upstairs to bed. Though that night was no different than the two or three times before when I'd found her in a similar state, I hoped she would finally take my advice not to come home so drunk again. Maybe next time I wouldn't be there to sling her over my shoulder on the way up the stairs. And I don't know many guys who would have covered her up so our parents didn't see her clothes all bunched around her chest and waist after I'd dropped her drunken self on the bed.

I think she knew I had done it, because she was especially nice to me that next day. I guess we understood each other better than I thought sometimes. It was probably the same reason that we exchanged that glance of knowing when we heard each other's answers to the question "what are your plans tonight?" from our dad. Sure I had the brotherly instinct to be worried about her in that outfit she couldn't quite hide under her coat. But I wouldn't stand in her way I was sure she'd be smart... enough.

And that was pretty much the last thought I had of her after I walked out the door. I took my truck over to my friend Minho's where we were meeting a few more friends. Minho had gotten us four tickets to an outdoor concert and our other three friends were going to try and sneak in - it wasn't too hard anyway. As soon as we were all loaded in the cab and truck bed both, a couple of cases of beer tucked between legs, we took off to a place a few miles outside the city.

When we got there of course the drinking started. there was more booze than I thought; I knew I'd have to leave my car behind. We all agreed to meet back at Mina's house where apparently nobody was home and then it was off to the front gate. Mina's friend Momo had caught my eye so I made sure to be near her when we went past the gate and inevitably lost a few stragglers. Momo was a tiny brunette with way bigger tits than I would have expected - probably due to a helpful bra. Her cute face didn't hurt but damn... I wondered if she had caught me staring one of the few times I couldn't take my eyes off her chest.

But once I got in... whoa... I didn't worry too much that Momo would be my go-to girl for the night because there were thousands of others. Hundreds...thousands, well I guess I am not great at approximating numbers but the venue was probably bigger than a football field in total. I saw the back fence where my friends would likely try and get in and headed to it.

"You jerk..." I heard from the bushes while standing there flirting with Momo.

It was Mina followed by a smiling Sung, the most drunk of our bunch that night, and I could tell he had just smacked her bare leg and probably a good handful of her ass. I couldn't help but laugh and neither could Momo. She put a hand on my arm and leaned in. I had to admit, she was pretty hot compared to a lot of the girls there; maybe I wouldn't have to even try that hard.

We all got together and stood in-line for a beer while I admired Momo and the other girls walking around in all manner of outfits and some in practically nothing at all. The music we were seeing was heavily electronic so from my little experience I knew this would be nothing short of a rave. I was starting to feel pretty dazed and that's probably why I was getting handsy with Momo.

By the time the music had started I'd lost count of my beer intake. I was holding her and Momo was rubbing against me. There really isn't a better feeling than the rumble of bass deep in your chest and the warm skin of a pretty girl close to you. Especially when she's feeling the same warm tingling that was pulling me closer to her.

At some point, I don't know when, we got separated. Perhaps it was the tan-skinned exotic looking girl who was leaning back with her hand caressing my neck. I looked down and she was wearing a top with fabric that crisscrossed her body so her sides were left bare. Her abdomen was just as tan as the rest of her and from the times she looked back at me I could see her eyes were no less alluring.

I think we made out for some time, but after talking to her for only a moment or so I realized, unfortunately, that she was either too dim-witted or too drunk to pass for more than a good-looking dance partner. The music was phenomenal, I was just the right amount of drunk, and I was flitting around from girl to girl and dancing like a fool. I was having a better time than I could have hoped for and even more so when I finally found my group of friends again. I remember thinking we should go to concerts like that more often when a really popular song came on and we started rough-housing and hollering as it began.

In the middle of the song there was a sudden jolt in the tempo and we were jumping up and down to the beat. I looked back. The crowd was jumping too, waves rippling back over the ocean of fans. Colored lights panned this way and that with the music, the beat of drums being absorbed by a dense blanket of people.

I was jumping and fist-pumping and doing all of the dumb stuff that seemed to be perfectly acceptable in that moment. Once I jumped and caught a glimpse of a guy crowd surfing. Again I jumped and saw the huge cloud of smoke that was hovering over the crowd. Once more and I caught a glimpse of what had to be the least dressed girl at the party. Naturally, I looked for her again.

Her whole back was bare, and it was all I could see of her through the throngs of people between us. I couldn't be sure but naturally I hoped her front was bare as well. She was jumping around wildly like me, and when she somewhat turned my way once or twice I could see she definitely wasn't wearing anything to support her breasts. They weren't huge, but from the side they looked like a nice little handful. It wasn't the first shirtless girl at the concert but usually the topless girls weren't the best to look at. This one had a toned little body and she looked like she knew how to use it.

I wandered forward without saying anything to my friends. A pang of guilt struck me for ditching them after we'd spent half the concert looking for each other, but I had to get closer to this girl. It was denser the closer I got to her. Not only was she farther up but it seemed like many of the guys around had the same idea as me. I pretended like I was pushing through to find my friends; that always seemed to work. All I ever got was the occasional grunt or mutter of frustration. I am a pretty decent sized guy so most people avoid conflict with me, I suppose.

I was about ten feet from her and my heart started to pound. I realized I was nervous. Something about the way this girl wasn't letting any of her leering onlookers near and seemed to be totally in her own world had me breathing fast and wondering what I would say. I watched her bob her head side to side, extend her arms up in the air and sway with the droning music the band was striking up in that moment.

The closer I got the better she looked... or maybe that was just the booze. When she turned to the side I saw a purple butterfly sticker over her nipple. Holy crap was that hot. It was almost as if seeing so much of her and yet being denied her fully naked form made me want her ten times more. The guts on this girl to wear so little to a concert that was sure to be full of young men with low morals... I resolved to take a shot.

I could see she had dirty pink hair now, and the only thing she seemed to have on besides two butterfly stickers was a short denim skirt. It wasn't unlike the one my little sister was hiding on her way out the door. I guess both of these girls knew how to get attention, though I hoped nobody had ever seen my Eunha without a top on, or so my protective instinct cautioned me. I finally made it close enough to make a move on the cutie, but not without a strong shoulder from a guy in a polo slightly larger than me. He yelled something and though I tried to ignore and walk past, I guess he wasn't pleased that I was getting between him and the nearly naked cutie. He grabbed my shoulder...

"Hey asshole!" he shouted and spun me his way.

I looked at him and tensed, wondering if I was going to have to defend myself or throw a punch.

"Relax man," I said, "I'm just looking for somebody."

"Fuck you!" he responded unreasonably, "you're just trying to get to the front!"

Usually, that would be true, but this time I was just trying to get near the most intoxicating girl I'd seen at the show. I readied myself to fight when I heard a voice behind me:

"OPPA!?"

The big guy's eyes darted over my shoulder. My fists were clenched and my already pounding heart had converted my nervous energy to adrenaline... yet the voice caught me off guard. The wide-eyed goon's gaze convinced me it was safe to turn around. And that's when I saw her.

denim skirt, some streaks of body paint across her abdomen and the two butterfly pasties I'd seen before were all there. The phenomenal body, perfect, firm breasts and adorable face I'd seen before too... on my little sister Eunha.

How could I not have seen? How didn't I know from the second I'd seen the familiar skirt? Why had my brain begged me to get closer to her when I must have known, subconsciously even, that this moment would come?

"Oppa!" she shouted again and then ran toward me. Her perfect little breasts jiggled as she pumped her legs and then jumped right at me. I caught her just in time, and it turned me toward the guy who had picked a fight. He glared, but it didn't seem he was going to interrupt us.

I could feel Eunha's tits pressed against my chest, and her toned legs firmly holding her in place. I was confused, a large part of me unwilling to let go of that magnetic pull that had drawn me to her. My little sister was practically naked in my arms and everyone around who had been staring at her for however long was watching us. Nobody could know who she was to me, or so I hoped. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd to see if any of our friends were watching. Her cheer friends were happily distracted near the front of the stage and there was at least a few hundred people between us and my group. I dared take my eyes off the crowd and look Eunha in the eye.

"Hey big bro," she said, still hanging on me like a monkey.

"Hey troublemaker." I said.

She smiled, a big, toothy grin, the way I always loved. Her gaze was a little friendly for a sister, as if the fact that her boobs were squished between us and our hips were locked together wasn't enough. I might have wondered where that was coming from, but I could smell whatever fruity vodka drink she'd had plenty of on her lips.

"YOU LIED!" Eunha pulled back while still seated in my arms and said loudly over the noise. "YOU told mom and dad that you were going to Minho's!"

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "and what about you?"

She scoffed, "what about ME?"

"I thought you were going to Umji's to practice some new cheer and sleep over?"

Eunha snickered guiltily. "Well, maybe I lied a little... you won't tell will you?"

"It depends," I threatened emptily.

Eunha was obviously one of those adorable drunks; I could hear it from the sing-songy inflection in her voice. But if you asked me she should not have been any kind of drunk with the hungry eyes I had seen fixed on her. Once again, maybe it was brotherly instinct or maybe I just knew what those guys were thinking.

I looked again at my little sister in my arms. I didn't know what to think. After all, I had come to her with much different intentions. She was still the same girl who'd just about stopped my heart when I saw her only from the side. Yes, I could see her flexing and moving her hips when I got close enough and her bare back was what had initially caught my eye. Her appearance had captured my attention, but her presence had drawn me in.

I wondered what our parents would think. Set aside Eunha's utter state of undress, and both of our irresponsible intoxication. What would they say if they saw Eunha wrapped around her brother with her teenage chest and tiny hips held tight to me. What would they say if they saw her moving up and down to the beat of the music, causing her to rub up against my already confused manhood... wait...?

She WAS doing it. Whether intentionally or not, that little minx... she was bouncing herself rhythmically and it was simply not the kind of contact a little sister should be making with her brother. She had to know... but as I looked at her again and saw that carefree smile and open mouth yelling out to the band, I knew I couldn't hold it against her.

I also knew I couldn't hold IT against her either. I was reacting to her attentions in a way that made me all the more conflicted. I lifted Eunha from me, quite easily except when she fought to hold on to me. I always loved her playfulness.

When I set her down again I was treated to another uninhibited look at her beautiful body. My little sister's tits or not, my hands struggled to stay at my sides and not reach out and touch the perky mounds that sagged not an inch on her chest. And those stickers, those fucking butterfly stickers... There was something so appealing about them - a childish and playful symbol that decorated my seductive and naughty little sister.

"You don't approve..." she said with a frown. Eunha must have caught me looking her up and down.

I used it as another excuse to gaze. Her tight tummy was streaked with paint like somebody had grabbed for her. I burned inside thinking it might have been some asshole in the crowd.

"What do you want me to say?" She had turned around now and was looking at the band while talking to me over her shoulder. Her cute butt was no less provoking; it sat proudly under a skirt that was too short to wear anywhere in my opinion.

She turned and her fingers grazed my face, just like the girl before had. I shivered at her touch; I wasn't supposed to like her doing that. "I dono..." she replied coyly. "Tell me I'm pretty at least..."

She turned again and bit her lower lip. GOD she was either a brilliant or totally natural seductress. I would tell her anything at that point.

But I still managed to hold back. "Well yea you're pretty..." I told her. I had to blink off the surging/tingling feeling of the alcohol as I tried to finish my thought. "...I just don't like all these guys staring at you."

I looked around. Maybe I was overreacting.

"Well now that my big brother is here, I think you can stop worrying." I felt her butt brush against me while she was dancing. She grabbed my arm and slung it around her. I could feel her naked front warm against my forearm.

"Shouldn't you be with some girl or something, not hanging with your little sister?" Eunha teased.

"Uh uh, now that I've found you, I'm not taking my eyes off you!" I replied quickly.

Eunha smiled and pressed her head against my shoulder, flattered. I hadn't meant it like that...

"That's not what I meant... I'm just saying..."

She turned away, seemingly pleased enough with the compliment I'd unintentionally paid her. I gave up, frustrated with her and simultaneously disarmed by her confidence.

"What about you Ms. butterflies?" She let out an incredulous 'uh!' like I'd somehow offended her by acknowledging it. "I'm surprised you haven't chosen one of your many admirers."

She was quick to respond too, "Well I'm with you aren't I?"

She looked me in the eye for a few seconds, and before I could say anything she turned back around. I would have argued, I should have, but it was true. She couldn't have known how I'd found her but I was guilty nonetheless. Eunha was by far the most interesting girl I'd come across the whole night, among thousands.

I couldn't keep my composure for too long either. I was still plenty drunk and so was she. After a minute or two of inner conflict and debating whether I should take Eunha home, leave her by herself or stay there with my scantily clad little sis, the music chose for me.

I really did love this band, and before I knew it I was dancing around just like before. This time, however, I was finally with a girl I actually wanted to be around. She was holding my arm, spinning around and I was enjoying watching her have a good time. Heck, I was having a great time myself, slowly forgetting to be careful with my hands... and my eyes with my newfound dance-partner.

I got somewhat lost in it all. Eunha was so gorgeous, and the music so entrancing... when I look back I remember my hands on her hips, running daringly up her side. I remember feeling her backside nudging against my front and the swelling it caused in my jeans. People were looking at us now and again, but nobody knew our secret. There was an attraction there that shouldn't have been, but it was ours and ours alone. I could dance with my little sister however I wanted, touch her wherever I wanted, and feel however I wanted. As long as she was by my side at this concert, nothing was forbidden.

Eunha stumbled once. I laughed at her and she feigned that she was upset. She even looked cute doing it. I worried for a moment that she might have been too drunk. Then she went back to dancing with me, leaning more heavily and being a little less inconspicuous about her affections. I felt her hands on mine. They guided me to her belly, where I could feel the feel the ridges of body-paint, the tautness of her skin, and even the dangly piercing that marked her belly-button.

She rolled her head back into me, with eyes mostly closed.

I had to act; I could have let this whole thing run its course and lead me wherever I was headed. But I knew where that would take me, and I was her older brother. I had a responsibility to Eunha and I was going to take care of her.

"It's time to go." I said, taking hold of her shoulders and saying into her ear.

"Mmmmh...okay." She said, standing up straighter and grinding her ass into me. I winced and breathed deeply.

Taking her hand I moved to our left. My car was somewhere parked out in the woods. We'd driven up close enough to hear the opener but off the beaten path to conceal the excessive drinking that usually took place before the concert. My friends wouldn't be coming back to the car, but I needed to take Eunha somewhere, if only to sleep it off.

I was determined as I began to weave through the crowd. I thought Eunha was going to just follow drunkenly along. She started to resist. 'What the heck!' I thought as I had to pull at her arm more firmly. I looked back and saw her brows furrowed and an angry glare.

I realized pretty quickly that my little sister had been acting a bit drunker than she actually was. Maybe she was using it as an excuse to be so carefree when we were dancing earlier. She hadn't resisted when we first left, but maybe she was expecting something else - not her brother chaperoning her to the car.

When we got clear of the densest part of the crowd I stopped and addressed my fuming little sister. What a sight she was: half-naked in denim and black and throwing a mini-tantrum. It was hard for me to stick to my purpose instead of acting on the urges I was feeling toward Eunha. I had to be the responsible one here, I didn't know just how much my little sister had to drink and how she was feeling about the way we were dancing earlier. I suspected she would have let it go further if I hadn't stopped.

"So...what..." Eunha said as she planted her feet and stared me down, "you're just gonna take me home and that's it?"

"No." I responded, "I was going to take you back to the truck and we can listen to the rest of the concert from there."

"Oh...okay." The corners of her mouth showed an embarrassed smile.

She took my hand, put it around her waist and walked, more amicably this time, side by side with me to the truck. It was getting a little colder now and I knew Eunha would be chilly, I could feel goosebumps on her bare skin. I pulled her tightly to me, my fingers pressing in to her warm, soft side.

When we finally got to my truck we were a ways from the crowd. The music still filled the empty woods around us and shafts of light penetrated the canopy of darkened treetops. It was an eerie place, made warm by the presence of Eunha at my side.

I hopped up into the truck bed and bent down to help my little sister up with me. Locking my hands under her arms I swiftly pulled her up and set her down in front of me. I couldn't avoid how close she came as her toes found the metal bed. I think she was impressed by the way I manhandled her, and I by the ease with which I could lift the tiny cutie. I don't care if she was my sister or not; feeling her youthful body slide into place pressed firmly to my front was enough to make my eyes roll back.

We stood there for a silent moment, neither of us knowing what to do next. Usually, with tension so thick I'd want nothing but to feel her lips on mine, but that wasn't an option. She nuzzled me, touching the tip of her nose to mine and breathing deeply. She was awaiting my next move.

After what felt like an eternity I reached down for the blankets in the storage locker, unfurling them and setting a few for us to lay on. I quickly positioned myself in the corner facing the concert to escape from our suggestive pose; Eunha followed and once again nuzzled under my arm.

My head swam with racing questions. Why were we acting like this? Why couldn't I just act the big brother and keep Eunha safe until she was sober enough to bring home? Why did every touch of her skin feel so electric?

It had to be the booze, or at least that's what I told myself despite the fact that it'd been an hour or two since my last drink. As soon as I settled in, threw a blanket over the two of us and felt my little sister snuggled up to me my worries began to melt away. The music, once again, captured me and the safety and warmth of our getaway was just what we both needed. A few people passed the truck but nobody close enough to notice us. It felt private, like we were all alone with nobody to bother us.

"I'm glad you found me," my little sister said, breaking the silence and staring up at me with her chin on my chest.

"I'm glad I found you too," I replied, "I don't know how much longer that pack of circling dogs would have left you alone."

Eunha giggled, "you think they saw something they liked?" She was clearly getting some enjoyment from goading me.

"More like they didn't see something... your clothes!"

Eunha laughed adorably and was clearly unphased this time by me calling out her outfit. In fact, she flipped the blanket off of us and opened up to me, causing her breasts to shake in place and her front to be utterly exposed to my view.

"You mean I'm not wearing enough?" she said, glancing down at herself and inviting me to do the same.

I couldn't NOT look. I set my eyes on her, seeing her perky breasts laying hardly any flatter and her athletic frame leading down to her bunched skirt. I had my eyes fixed upon her, but hers had found something else. She'd revealed her beautiful teenage body to me by flipping the blanket back, but she could see my lower half as well. And I was totally hot for her; there was no hiding the bulge in my shorts.

Eunha was clearly taken aback. As of yet I hadn't given her any direct indication that I was feeling lustful thoughts toward my little sister. And though she'd danced quite suggestively with me, we could still go home without feeling we needed to hide anything.

Yet my hardness had Eunha's mouth agape. Except it was not in disgust but rather something else. She knew what was going on in my head. I needed to be quick to act, to snub out the suggestion that I'd made unintentionally with my erection. But I was not in any position to think or act quickly. I didn't intend to... it was all too much and it was like Eunha was begging me to do something rash.

I planted my hand firmly under her breast, my thumb and forefinger plying the soft padded skin between them. Above sat the thin shroud of her butterfly and higher still a wide eyed and still open mouthed gaze from my little sister. She felt wonderful, and I finally had my hand on her teenage breast as I'd wanted to all night. I moved my fingers around, massaging her daringly.

Eunha's head rolled back a bit and she breathed in apprehensively. When I touched her more firmly next it elicited a soft "uhhh..." from her open mouth.

I kept moving my fingers in circles, handling her wonderful chest and marveling at the firmness of her unhindered breast. She let me continue long enough to build confidence. I took more of her in my hand and she sighed again, I could feel my little sister's hips begin to move involuntarily.

"Mmmmhh...Oppa" she cooed again. "We shouldn't... this is really naughty."

But her hips betrayed her words. They had found my leg and I could feel the heat from between hers as she urged herself against me. I explored her chest with my hand, moving it between her two breasts and up to her neck, then back to her other breast, feeling the butterfly sticker on my palm.

I wanted to feel more, so I pried at the edge of one sticker.

"Uhhhh Oppa... you can't," she protested, while continuing to gyrate on my leg.

I chose to listen to her body instead, and slowly peeled the wing of the butterfly backward. I watched her intently; she made no move to stop me. When I'd peeled enough to see the faintest denim of her small nipple she trembled with sensation. I pulled it off the rest of the way and saw in full what I'd been hoping for all night.

I intended to get to her other sticker but I immediately placed my hand on her breast and tested it gently. Her nipple must have been sensitive because she trembled once again.

I guess the heightened intensity of her further nakedness worked to my advantage because soon after, as my hand was sliding open-palmed over her taut stomach I felt hers moving slowly as well. First I felt it on my hip, then the soft spot of my pelvis, and then... as if it were her first time, her fingers lightly touched the bulge in my shorts.

It was my turn to groan. I had been tortured by Eunha's body all night and now she was finally moving to help relieve me. At first her hand dared not progress, resting enticingly over my hard cock with only layers of clothing between. But as I got more aggressive with my own hands and I helped pressure my knee back toward her grinding hips, my little sister found her confidence.

She wrapped as much of her hand around me as the fabric would allow and I gasped in response.

"Wowww," she whispered. It must have been bigger than she expected.

All the while, as my little sister was gaining the tenacity to take things further, I was already doing so myself. The sight of her exposed breast and my hand descending from it down her flat stomach was amazing enough, but my intentions to go lower had my heart pumping twice as hard.

My fingers reached the elastic waistband atop her denim skirt.

I could feel her breathing in and out, her abs tightening rhythmically.

We were both waiting for what I would do next. After a moment, I had waited long enough; I had to have more of my teenage sister.

I urged my fingertips between, feeling the soft skin and gentle curve of her hipbone as I did so. When I was just short of my target, Eunha's hand quickly found mine. Her palm came to rest atop mine, with the skirt between us.

Eunha's eyes looked up at me, full of desire and apprehension both. She bit at her lower lip before saying, "You should stop... unhhh... don't you think you should stop?"

She was probably right. If I didn't hold back now, things could go a lot further. I didn't know if my little sister was virgin but deep down I longed to find out. I wanted to have her in so many ways, to fuck her like she had been practically begging me all night. If the brother in me didn't intervene I might end up acting out every lust-filled vision I'd dreamt up while at Eunha's side all night, taking her in every position I'd longed to since I first caught glimpse of the beautiful cutie.

The decision was easy then. With Eunha's hand still firmly upon my member, and mine beneath her skirt as my eyes beheld her young, nearly-naked body, I threw caution to the wind. My fingers pressed down upon her mound and I watched as my little sister writhed in pleasure. Whether her protest was empty or not, the second my fingers pressured from outside her panties she was gone.

I rubbed in small circles where I could feel the precipice of her tiny opening. Even through the cloth of her bikini underwear I could feel that my little sis was wet for me. She lifted her hips when I didn't press hard enough. The hand that had been there to stop me now pushed my fingers more firmly against her.

Eunha's other hand fumbled around my shorts as she struggled to multi-task. Hard as it may have been for her to cope with her brother's attention to her aching sex, she eventually worked her hand inside my shorts.

Something clicked in me when she finally grasped me firmly, her hand on my bare cock. I was fully overcome with desire, love and lust for my little Eunha. Her pretty face looked focused upon returning the favor I was working on her pussy. Her eyes flitted to mine occasionally and then back to her hand as it worked up and down within my shorts. When our gazes met, there was no more worry or guilt, only the love and understanding of brother and sister with a clear lust for more.

She must have gotten frustrated by the obstacle of my shorts because moments later she hastily tugged the elastic band over the tent that had been formed there. My sizable penis sprang free to the open air and Eunha's longing eyes. They widened as she revealed what her hand already knew to be more than she had expected.

I took her brazenness as invitation, quickly dragging her skirt and panties both down to her knees. Eunha's face cast a second of shyness as I looked down, making sure the blanket hadn't covered my little sister's lower half as I disrobed her. She was totally bare, and from what I could tell her opening as small as I'd ever seen. If I intended to make love to her that night, she was likely to need a lot of time to adjust to my size.

Eunha continued her ministrations and explored all over me, gently grazing my head with her fingertips and testing the weight of my full balls with her hand. I touched down to my little sister's bare pussy for the first time as well. She quivered as I contacted her warmth. With two fingers I straddled her clit and stroked the full length of her young quim.

"Oooohh...fuuuuuck,.." Eunha mewed, "I can't believe we're doing this... feels so... ughhh... good."

I kept at her, rotating my fingers about her button and watching her squirm when I touched her just right. Seeing her back arch, abs ripple and her pretty breasts shift as I pleasured her, I nearly exploded. Eunha's hair was tussled over one eye; with my arm that was wrapped around her I pushed it back and rolled her toward me.

We kissed for the first time.

She tested my lips, pecking at them. I attempted to meet them more firmly but she teased me. I pulled her more tightly to me, yet still she withheld. I could sense her smile and then the breathy giggle that followed it, her breath tickling my chin.

I leaned in closer and caught her. Our lips touched firmly at last, and we both paused. We had already crossed many lines, but kissing my little sister felt equally as intimate, if not more. I pried my lips open a bit. Eunha did the same, pecking at me again. Then she pressed firmly to me, our noses intertwined and my hand left her wanton opening.

Within seconds our tongues were touching for the first time, lightly at first. But then it was more eagerly. I wanted to feel everything my little sister had to offer. Eunha sat up to get a better angle at which to kiss me but I had a bigger plans. I wanted Eunha atop me, in all her beauty, sitting in my lap and kissing me without inhibition.

I fumbled to remove my shorts the rest of the way and then Eunha's skirt. My efforts elicited a laugh from my little pink sis, but she was silenced as soon as I had my hands on her hips and pulled her atop me.

Her knees rested softly on the blanket beneath us.

Her hips had come to rest so that my erection was securely pinned beneath her bare pussy.

She looked down, with heightened awareness at the new contact we were making. I flexed my cock to make it all the more intense for her, for us both. Looking up, with one breast bare and the other still hidden beneath the remaining butterfly, I reached for it. Pausing a moment, as if I hadn't been fondling her other breast for the last ten minutes, I felt her soft skin and teased it.

Then I peeled the sticker off all in one motion. It didn't seem too painful but Eunha inhaled sharply all the same. Now she was totally naked to me. The reality aroused me: my little sister completely naked with her brother's cock actually touching her teenage pussy, But the sight spurred me to action. I urged my hands up her abdomen, holding her firmly and bringing them to her perfect breasts.

I relished the look on Eunha's face as she felt my hands upon her. I couldn't know exactly what was going on in her head but somehow I knew she was as willing a participant as I.

"God you are so beautiful Eunha," I told her, watching a big smile form on her face. She leaned down and kissed me with gratitude. I bet she looked wonderful from behind in her prone position.

After a few seconds she broke the kiss. "You are a good brother, Oppa. I love you so much."

"Somehow, I don't think Mom and Dad would agree," I said, glancing down between us were my erection was planted firmly between her tiny bare lips.

Eunha responded by thrusting her hips forward and backward along the length of my shaft. We both gasped in unison at the sensation. Our contact was near the real thing and at any moment one of us could have taken control and consummated the incestuous act we were building toward.

"Mom and Dad don't know how you protected me from all those creeps... ugh... " she moved back and forth again, "And they don't know how you tried to be good when I was being so naughty with my dancing. Oh fuck..." My little sister's words had made me involuntarily thrust my hips toward her, increasing the contact with her slit.

I had written off so much of Eunha's behavior tonight as drunkenness and now she was admitting to doing it on purpose. The tricky little tease; maybe all of those times her hand or butt had come in contact with my crotch in front of the stage weren't quite so accidental. I doubted it now.

I had one hand massaging her breasts, and another one forged a path between them and up to her neck. I half-encircled it gently and caressed her sensitive skin there.

"Oh Eunha," I said as she once again rolled her hips along my rod. "I want you so badly sis... you're driving me crazy." She obviously took that as an invitation to tease me more, lifting from my hips and letting my tip prod at her pussy. My baby sis pushed just softly enough that I was forbidden entrance before she lowered herself off again and I was rendered helpless.

"I don't want to take advantage... uhhh... " I said as she lifted up and directed my head to her pussy again. Watching me intently and capturing my gaze, she bore down on my tip enough that I held my breath and wondered what she'd do next. If I lifted my hips even an inch now my little sister would be as skewered on me as she was playing at.

She rolled her hips and my head again missed its mark. She was torturing me once more, and I was near taking control and teaching her a lesson. But Eunha had done it so she could lean in and kiss me. It's not that I didn't enjoy making out with the beautiful goddess, but I had been too close not to go further. As if she could read my mind, she removed her lips and hovered close to mine

"Oppa..." she assured me, "I want this."

With that I watched my teenage sister lift her hips from my lap and reach between us. She took hold of my cock and pointed it directly where we both wanted it. She lowered just enough to hold me in place before fixing her eyes upon mine.

All I could do was marvel, placing my hands on her hips lightly and giving my little sister complete control. I watched her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, gazing down between us as she applied more weight. I could tell from the way her opening resisted me that she would be far tighter than I could have hoped.

"Ohh fuck bro... you're soo big... I gotta go slow."

I longed to be inside her, but I wanted Eunha to be as comfortable as possible. "It's okay sis, take your time."

She was plenty wet, her sliding back and forth already had my shaft glistening in the moonlight. She was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. Her dirty pink hair framed her face just so, her eyes were closed for the moment as she concentrated on lowering, torturously slowly. Her toned body held breath as she tried to continue.

I felt my head finally part her little pussy lips and wondered if she could feel me throbbing to be inside her.

And then there was resistance. Eunha's eyes were still closed so I could not search them for answer. I watched her bite her lip as she pushed past what was obviously an uncomfortable obstacle.

"Uhhhh...owwww..." she howled in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Eunha didn't open her eyes again until she had come to rest. My staff was fully immersed in my little sister and she was panting despite being completely still.

"Oh Eunha," I said, finding her eyes desperately upon mine. "Are you a virgin baby sis?"

She grinned, though her furrowed brow revealed she was still adjusting to having her big brother filling her so completely.

"Not anymore.." she quipped. Eunha was always clever; even, it seemed, when impaled on her brother's cock.

"I didn't... ughhh..." I could feel her pulsing from all the sensation being so full was causing her, "I didn't know Eunha..."

She moved to bring our faces together again. Even the slightest movement seemed to bring her more sensation to cope with and deep breaths by which to do so.

"It's okay Oppa..." she took another breath, "I wanted it to be you..."

I was enamored. My gorgeous sister had given me the most treasured gift she had to offer. Her wonderful personality, her perfect teenage body, and now her eighteen-year virginity was mine. My hands gripped her hips more tightly. We kissed, and simultaneously I helped Eunha lift her tiny pelvis up along the path my erection allowed.

She hummed against my lips. I could feel her tense as my head brushed over her broken hymen. When her entrance finally gave way to the ridges of my tip we broke our kiss. She let the head linger at her opening, threatening entrance at any second.

"Are you ready Eunha?" I asked her.

"Uh huh," she complied.

We both assisted in lowering her down, feeling me slide into my little sister and fill her so perfectly it was like I was meant to be there.

Eunha howled, "Oooooouuuww... fuck Oppa...slower..."

We both watched as inch after inch disappeared into her. I might have urged her faster if not for the marks her nails were leaving in my arms as she held on and took me deeper. Instead I just held her and savored every second that my little sister allowed me to be inside of her. As I watched her naked little body sink lower I remained amazed that I was truly making love to the younger sister I'd known and loved all my life.

Eunha had always been adorable. She'd been the youngest cheerleader when she started high school, she loved to drive boys crazy with whatever outfits our parents would let her get away with, and she had come into her pretty teenage body early on.

Her breasts had been the same size for years, often tucked visibly into the tight-fit clothing she wore. She always had the dimples and cute cheeks, though her blue eyes were equally distracting. Years of being active had sculpted her frame. As I looked at her now I saw that the little sister I'd watched grow up for years had a body to marvel at: thin at the waist with the hint of hipbones, a slender abdomen and the bulge of her ribcage before those mouth-watering teen breasts.

I reached around to grab Eunha's butt. It was firm like the rest of her but definitely something to hold on to. I did so as she continued her up and down movements on my cock.

"Fuckk... Oh God Oppa..." she called out,

"Eunha... ughh... you're so tight sis..." I didn't know how long I could last with my baby sis controlling the tempo and squeezing my shaft so securely.

"Ohmyyygod... I can't believe we're... mmmmhhhh..." she was upping the pace at which she lifted her hips and brought them down to meet mine. I could feel my tip prodding her deep inside, the very end of her tight channel soft against my tip. "I can't believe I'm fucking my brotherrrr...uhhhh"

My hands moved about. One gripped her hip tightly and started to urge her more roughly up and down. The other gripped her side and breast alternately, I wanted to feel as much of her tiny body as I could.

The music still droned in the background. Both of us had ceased hearing it long ago, listening only to each other's breathing and sounds of ecstasy. The lights flickered between the trees and the moon shone down on us from above. Not far off were thousands of people fixated on the loud music and dancing. I thought nothing of it, instead ensnared by my nude baby sister humping herself atop me.

I shifted, sitting upright with my back against the window to the cab. Eunha didn't miss a beat, pressing her breasts firmly against me and rocking her hips in our new position. She lowered herself fully onto me, with her clit pressed against my base. My little sister may have been a virgin, but she was quickly discovering all the ways sex could make her feel.

She rolled her hips around. Locked together my tip sought new ground inside of her and she writhed as it prodded her deep within.

She gasped aloud, "ohhhHHH... Fuuuck bro... It's so far in me..."

"I know Eunha, you feel amazing," I told her, "I don't know how much more I can take."

It was like that only encouraged her. "You can't come yet Oppa... uhhh..." she grabbed on to my neck and shoulder and started rocking her hips in a way no girl I'd been with before had ever done.

"I'm not wearing a c...shit Eunha slow down...I'm not wearing a condom!"

The feeling of my little sister urging my cock in and out of her was racing me toward release faster than I could control...

"Don't cum yet... just wait..." she pleaded.

She didn't slow down, I was afraid of what might happen if she kept it up. The little teenage troublemaker confirmed my fears.

"I'm not...ohhh..." she could feel my hands trying to slow her down, she pushed them from her... "I'm not on birth control ... you can't yet I'm really ... fuuuucking close."

My head was dazed, my hands didn't know what to do and my mind was torn trying to stop me cumming in my little sis and wondering what would happen if I did. It was then that Eunha nuzzled her head to mine and locked her hips again. She gasped in my ear and then called my name.

I was going to be able to hold out. Getting my little sister pregnant was less a concern now as was watching her have her first orgasm with a man, let alone me: her brother.

"Ooooooouuuhhhhh... Daaaaaaan..." she howled, shaking so much I had to hold her to make sure she wouldn't fall from my lap.

I withdrew from her what little distance I could with the quaking little girl in my arms and pushed back inside, thinking I would only add to her orgasm. It was a grievous mistake. My little sister cumming in my lap and the one last, pivotal thrust had built me too far.

When I felt her mound connect with me, I couldn't withhold the first jet of sperm that I sent as deep into my little sister's pussy as was possible. Nor could I stop the second, or the third. Eunha was so firmly planted with me inside and her body trembling from her electric climax that I couldn't have dreamed of removing her.

Nor did I want to. In a few fateful seconds I flooded my little Eunha with cum. She pushed at my chest early enough to lean back and look deep into my eyes while my tip was spurting its final, purposeful rope of semen into my little sister's fertile womb. If the time was right, there was no question that I'd filled Eunha with enough of her brother's cum to assure that we were both in a bit of trouble.

We looked down. The juncture between us was slick with our combined fluids. I could see the denim gleam of my cum attempting to work its way out. It had reached as deep within her as it could go and now sought another way out.

The evidence of our incest was unmistakable, and the look that we shared after we both saw it was fraught with wonder. What was Eunha thinking? She had to know what her brother had just done and what it meant; was she upset with me?

She answered with a kiss.

She leaned in and hugged me close. It felt reassuring having her pressed against me. It was even more comforting the passion with which we entwined our tongues and made out until Eunha backed off to speak.

"Sooo... you came inside me..." Her voice held no disappointment whatsoever.

"Yeah... I'm so sorry... I couldn't stop it, when you..." but she stilled my voice with a finger upon my lips.

"Uh uh," she denied me, "don't be sorry. I knew you might unless I stopped... but I didn't want to." She smiled mischievously. Her look was incredibly naughty, notwithstanding the fact that her tiny pussy was still dripping with her brother's cum and his cock still hard and lodged inside of her.

I was once again overcome with love for my little sister. She wasn't just the perky teen that I used to babysit. She was that, but she was now a hot little high schooler that had just given her virginity to her brother and done a fantastic job for her first time. It made her unspeakably naughty and desirable. She was my own personal eighteen year old sex-symbol, and I couldn't wait to see what trouble she would drum up next.

"It's just that I'm at... like... the best time to get pregnant right now, or at least that's what my schedule from SexEd says" she told me, biting her pointer finger like she had for years when she did something naughty.

"Oh..." was all I could say.

I was still so hard in Eunha's slick tunnel; the danger we were in did nothing to quell that. I'm quite certain that it only made matters worse, because I was already having thoughts that I wasn't done with my little sister for the night.

She looked down, "Oh my God, you came so much! I can feel it in me! It's really warm," her face showed an obviously faked look of concern, "what if you put a baby in your own baby sister?"

"What should we do?" I asked her, incredulous.

She looked deep in thought for a moment and then said, "I think you should fuck me again, just to be sure."

I must have heard her wrong. She must not have meant she wanted us to have unprotected sex again, right there in the truck bed. When she slowly pulled herself off of me I was certain that I'd just heard what I wanted to.

She got on all fours in front of me. There was cum trailing from her bald teen pussy, I ached to feel it wrapped around me again.

"Will you fuck me like this?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at me. "Doggy right?" she looked excited to know the position.

I was paralyzed. The reality of everything... the fact that I had my little sister naked in the bed of my truck, that I'd just pumped her fertile pussy full of my sperm without birth control, and now... she wanted me to do it again?

"Come on brother! You already fucked me once, and you filled me up with all that sticky cum." She shook her behind at me, taunting me. "Don't you want to fuck me again Oppa?"

I cautiously moved forward, my erection wagged in front of me, revealing my mind to her.

"Pleaaase...?" she said with a whine.

Her whine turned to a whimper when I touched my tip to her entrance once more. I slid it up from a few inches below, bringing with it the spunk that had escaped. Looking my little sister in the eye and seeing her bite her lip in anticipation, I pushed my tip between her pussy lips and in one long stroke I sank back into her, aided by our own fluids.

Though she'd already taken my size minutes before, it was obvious that she still had to adjust to each stroke.

"Ouwww... fuck it's big... ouuuhhh... be gentle with me... ugh... Oppa," she said after I'd started to thrust into her rhythmically.

I slowed down, but as my hips met her butt I pushed hard and prodded the soft spot at her cervix. We both drew inward a deep breath when I did, and then Eunha whimpered again as I withdrew.

I grasped her as I thrusted, my thumbs each pushing into her cheeks and fingers wrapped firmly around her hips. My little sister was small enough that my hands almost entirely encircled her hips. The slick sound of me penetrating my sister was audible on the night air, and I realized that the music had finally stopped. The cries of my little sister were adorable yet I hoped they didn't draw too much attention.

"Fuck me Oppa... fuck your little sister!" She encouraged me. I'd hardly ever heard her swear. Though, with my hard cock buried inside Eunha, I knew I was learning a lot about the tiny pink-haired cutie tonight.

"Oh Eunha..." I called to her, "I love you little sis, unhhh... you feel so good... I'm so glad I found you tonight."

She reached back and grabbed my hand, then got up on her knees. I held her with my hand across her chest, palming her breast as she turned. "I love you too Oppa...ughh ... oh Fuck..." she yelped, our upright position had brought a new angle at which I was penetrating her. "I'm so happy you found me too..." she turned to kiss me. I kept urging my cock into her deeply "Jesus...fuck...I've wanted you to fuck me...uhhh for a long time," she whispered.

I was surprised. I'd thought of my little sister many times before, even imagined her when I was with other girls. She was so adorable and her tight little body had been torturing me for many years, but I wrote it off as me being a typical horny young guy. I didn't think Eunha had similar feelings.

She seemed to read the surprise on my face. "Uh huh," she affirmed, "yeah I've thought about you a lot... mmmnhh uhhhh..." she tried hard to push her ass back toward me was I met it with the slapping sound of my own thrusts.

"Remember when we went camping...ughhhh owww... with Mom and Dad?" She was having trouble talking through panting fits, but she seemed to be aroused telling me, "You kept waking up spooning me?" she asked.

"Uuuuhhh keep fucking me," she demanded as I paused, remembering the weekend.

"You had a stiffy the whole time..." I remembered, those two nights were torture and I felt so guilty wondering if my little sis had felt my hardness against her each time.

"I remember Eunha..." I put my hand around her neck, holding it daringly but gently there.

"I did that on purpose...ooohh oooh fuck..." she gasped as I impaled her harder. "I kept hoping you'd just give in and fuck me... just like you are... uhh... right... now."

My head was spinning. My little sister was blowing my mind and taking every inch of my cock at the same time. I was like an animal as I pulled out from her and quickly turned her to sit on the tool chest. She was so light and our lovemaking so aligned that we barely missed a beat.

Looking at her, seated atop the metal box and with her arms and legs around me, I pointed my cock without touching it and entered her again. I was watching her face intently. Her mouth opened. She cooed as I shoved into her again. She spasmed as I bottomed out.

"Fuuuck Oppa..." she complained, "it feels bigger like this."

I didn't stop. I withdrew and then sank home again. Eunha jerked forward as I prodded her deeply. I could have slowed down but I was so mad with lust that I didn't desire to in the slightest. I just kept pulling out of my little sister and driving into her, taking her completely.

"Oppa... uhhh I can't take it... wait... ohhh God..."

She was too weak to hold me off and I knew that if I kept fucking her I'd send her into another orgasm. I thrust again and again. Eunha's abdomen flexed. The soft flesh between her hips mounded to accept my cock into her. I grasped my little sister's hips and held her tight as I impaled her and made her mine.

When it had built enough, Eunha's climax seemed to deny her the ability to control her movements. Her hands fumbled at my chest and hips. Her legs tightly clutched around at my backside and her head rolled to the side. I felt her quim grip me and then she was cumming hard. Fluid coated our union and my little sister screamed out.

Some hundred feet away a group of concert goers must have heard her. They were walking back to their car like me and could probably see the two of us making love in the bed of my truck. My little sister was trying to contain herself but when I didn't stop pushing inside of her over and over she could do little to quiet her moaning.

The spectators would see the tiny pink-haired girl writhing and calling out through a voracious orgasm. They'd see a man, quite a bit larger than her, obviously driving her to such action with strong thrusts. Only we would know the truth, and having onlookers didn't stand a chance of stopping me from finishing off my little sis.

I did slow down so she could catch her breath. She looked at me, almost frustrated. "Oh my God..." she said, still trying to inhale and exhale deeply. She watched me, and quickly sensed by the very slow in and out movement of my hips that I wasn't finished.

"Aww, do you wanna cum Oppa?" she said, sounding like she was taunting me. "Do you wanna cum inside your little sister again?"

I did, desperately. I resumed my urgency.

"But you could get me pregnant Oppa..." she warned. "Are you gonna shoot your sticky cum inside your naughty little sister again...uhhh...even thou...oh fuck... even though I'm not on birth control?"

Her legs were pulling at me. One of her hands had my neck and the other found my balls, gently massaging them.

"But Oppa...oooOOO" she whined, "I'm only eighteen!...Ohfuckyourbig..." she cried as I buried my cock into her tight pussy roughly. "You shouldn't fill up your little sister...uhhh...with your... hot...sticky... cum "

I was close, and Eunha's words had brought me there. I'd never heard her swear before, let alone talk dirty with her brother's cock disappearing in and out of her as she practically begged for it.

"I'm gonna...ohhh... Eunha..."

I held onto her and let my lust do the rest. Her tiny frame writhed and accepted me, her teenage breasts shaking with each thrust.

"It's okay baby..." she told me, "cum for me big brother...ohhhh... cum in my little pussy... cum inside your little sister... get me ...FUCKKK... get me pregnant... I want it."

That was it, Eunha's tiny body, her hand massaging my balls, and her teasing words had brought me to my knees. I erupted into her.

It didn't seem possible, but nonetheless it felt like more than the first time. As I released rope after rope of forbidden semen into my little sister, I buried myself as deeply into her as I could. It jetted perfectly at the entrance to her womb. I coated her insides for the second time that night. And when I had all but filled my baby sis with everything I had, she trembled into a short but rewarding orgasm of her own. I could only move an inch or so within her without stimulating my own hypersensitive tip, but when I did I could feel a few last pumps of my cum added into little Eunha as she quivered through her own climax.

I held her close to me until I felt her pleasure subside. I picked her up and lay us down in the corner of the truck bed with the blankets around us. We were too hot to lay beneath one just yet but I made sure to keep Eunha warm as we lay there together.

Eunha spoke first.

"That was..." she seemed short of words, "the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I smiled at her affection. She snuggled close.

"You were perfect little sis. You ARE perfect."

She had the biggest grin on her face from my compliment. I loved seeing her so satisfied.

My hard member had not yet left her. If I wasn't so exhausted from, first the concert, and then the most amorous and sapping lovemaking I'd probably ever experience, I would have fucked my little sister again. I think she felt the same. She was totally limp in my arms, but we were both content to remain locked together at the hips with brother's cock within his own little sister.

"Now you came inside me twice!" she stated, "I can't believe how it feels, there's so much in me!"

She was right. Both times I had unloaded more into my little sister than I thought possible. I made a motion to slide my cock, finally, from inside of my teenage sister. Eunha stopped me.

"No...mnnnhhh... I want to keep it in me, just stay there a while." she instructed.

I obeyed, wincing as I returned the inch I'd pulled out of her tunnel. Both Eunha and I felt certain that she would be pregnant; there was no harm in letting my spunk warm her a while longer.

We simply remained there, quiet but for the sound of crickets and the distant voices of men disassembling the stage. Somewhere my friends were probably wondering where I was. The guys I had arrived with were probably still trying to get with one of the girls they'd brought or met at the concert. None of them would know, and I could never tell what had happened after I'd taken off toward the girl with butterfly.

I looked down at her, remembering how badly I'd wanted exactly this as I saw her across the crowd. But it was better than I had ever imagined. I had just made love to the most beautiful girl at the concert, and the most wonderful girl I'd always known.

"I love you bro," she said to me after a few moments.

"I love you too sis."

"You were better than I ever dreamed." she insisted, "I hope you aren't done with me now?" Her face had that puppy-dog look she always used on my dad. I loved it, but it wasn't necessary.

"No way Eunha," I promised, "I'm your brother, and I'll never be 'done' with you."

"Good," replied my little sister, "because I want you to fuck me and fill me up like you did everywhere we go... "

"Sure little sis," I laughed.

"In your truck...on my bed... at my school... in mom and dad's bed..." she prattled on. I caressed her abs and breasts lovingly as she spoke. When she mentioned our parents we both paused.

"What'll we tell Mom and Dad?" she asked.

"Nothing, obviously!" I responded without hesitation.

"No, silly, what will we tell them when I'm pregnant with my big brother's baby?" as if it was assured.

"We don't know that yet Eunha."

"Well if you didn't just get me pregnant, Oppa, you will soon," she said, matter-of-factly. Somehow, I loved the thought. My baby sister Eunha, walking around in public with the bump of her big brother's child...

I made love to my little sister again that night, hours later after we'd snuggled up in the cab of the truck and fallen asleep. I awoke to her spooning with me like she had that night long ago when we were camping. This time, my cock found the right place: inside my cute, eighteen-year-old, unprotected and willing little sister Eunha. It found there over and over again until I came inside her without a care in the world but to have Eunha in my arms.

Months later, the story could change if we kept up the way we were. But for now, both my little sister and I were glad that we'd gone to the same concert.

[perfectsunlight]

[37] HOME

warnings: none

ivory hadn’t been to her mother’s house in years. she’d only been on a few separate occasions, never spending the night or anything. that wasn’t allowed after jennie had moved out of jieun’s home. usually when she had to go to her mother’s house it was to pick up something for jieun or vice versa. sometimes her grandmother would leave things by accident, and would go with her to go pick it up after school.

looking back now, jane has reason to believe her grandmother did that on purpose so her mother could see her.

ivory’s eyes took in the space around her, a quiet sort of awe settling in her chest. the house was elegant but lived-in, warm in a way that surprised her. she had always imagined her mother’s home as something distant and impersonal, a place too pristine to truly belong to her. but standing here now, she realized how wrong she had been.

the scent was the first thing that hit her—a familiar mix of white florals and something undeniably her mother. it tugged at something deep in her memory, something she hadn’t let herself feel in years.

jennie walked ahead of her, carrying one of ivory’s bags effortlessly in one hand. "you hungry? i have that one brand of ramen you used to love." her tone was light, casual, as if this was something they did all the time.

jane hesitated in the doorway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “you remember that?”

her mother glanced back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. it was truly a wonderful gift as a mother to remember everything about the carbon copy of herself while watching her grow into someone entirely her own. “of course, i do,” jennie said simply, as if it had never been a question. “you went through a phase where it was all you wanted to eat. i used to sneak it to you when your grandmother wasn’t looking.”

ivory huffed softly at the faintest memory, shaking her head. “she hated me eating junk food.”

“she still does.” jennie chuckled, setting the bag down by the stairs before turning to look at her daughter properly. “but i figured, if you’re staying here, you should at least have something that feels like home.”

the words struck something deep in ivory’s chest. 

staying here. home. 

she swallowed, forcing herself to step further inside, eyes scanning the house—the high ceilings, the sleek furniture, the warmth in every carefully curated detail. it didn’t look exactly how she remembered it, but it still felt undeniably hers. like somewhere she could belong.

“where’s kuma?” ivory asked after she cleared her throat, trying to dispel the notion that this million dollar building was her home. her mother’s lips curled into a small smile at the mention of her beloved dog. “sleeping in my room, probably under the covers like he owns the place,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “he’s gotten lazier with age, but i think he’ll be happy to see you.”

ivory nodded, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of the marble countertop as she took in the house once more. it was strange—so much of it was unfamiliar, yet it still held remnants of something she couldn’t quite put into words. something that made her chest ache.

“you can go wake him up if you want,” jennie offered, watching her carefully. the taller girl hesitated before shaking her head. “no, let him sleep. i’ll see him later.” she cleared her throat again, trying to fill the quiet between them.

her mother returned to making the instant ramen, a quiet determination in the way she moved. ivory wasn’t sure why she was so focused—after all, it was just ramen. but the older woman handled it with the same careful attention she gave to everything else, as if even this small act needed to be done just right.

ivory shifted on her feet, glancing at the counter before hesitantly stepping closer. “do you, um, need help or something?” her mother glanced up in surprise, as if the offer had caught her off guard. “oh,” she said, then quickly shook her head. “no, it’s fine. it’s just ramen.”

jane awkwardly rested her hands on the counter. “right. just ramen.” silence stretched between them again, not quite heavy but noticeable. ivory watched as her mother poured hot water over the noodles, the steam curling into the air between them. she tapped her fingers against the marble, then, without thinking, reached for the seasoning packets.

jennie noticed but didn’t say anything. she just slid one of the bowls toward ivory, a silent invitation.

ivory carefully tore open the packet, shaking in the seasoning. “i think you forgot this.”

a ghost of a smile touched jennie’s lips. “i was getting to it.”

“uh-huh.” ivory stirred the noodles, the simple motion giving her something to focus on. she felt her mother’s eyes on her but didn’t look up. "you know, i’ve made this for you more times than i can count," her mother mused, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

ivory glanced up, chopsticks hovering over the steaming bowl. "yeah?"

jennie just hummed, tilting her head slightly. "when you were little, you’d get these random cravings in the middle of the night. and of course, your grandmother didn’t want you eating instant ramen at the time, so i had to sneak it to you like it was some kind of contraband."

a small scoff left ivory’s lips as she twirled her noodles. "that sounds fake, but okay." her mother smirked, shaking her head. "it’s true. you’d shuffle into my room with your blanket wrapped around you and tell me you’re hungry and it would be like 3 in the morning."

ivory tried to suppress the small smile threatening to tug at her lips. "and you actually made it for me?"

"every single time." jennie reached for the pot and immediately blocked her daughter with her arm when she saw her daughter move. "ah, don’t touch that. it's hot."

ivory blinked at her slightly confused but deadpan. "mom, i’m eighteen." she said slowly, as if trying to remind the older woman. "and yet," jennie reminded, narrowing her eyes as she dramatically pushed her daughter back a step with her free hand, "you still somehow have the survival instincts of a toddler. just let me do it."

the taller girl groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. "seriously?" the younger girl shook her head and leaned against the counter off to the side.

jennie ignored her dramatics as she carefully poured the steaming broth into their bowls. "see? if i let you do it, you’d probably burn yourself and then i’d have to explain to the entire world why my fully grown daughter can’t be trusted with boiling water."

ivory crossed her arms, unimpressed. "i can be trusted with boiling water." jennie simply shot her a look as she set the pot down. "weren’t you the one who grabbed a hot pan straight out of the oven once?"

a faint flush of embarrassment came onto her face but jane just clenched her jaw. she knew better than to argue against her mother with this, especially given her track record. she just huffed quietly and looked away.

her mother gave her a pointed look before sliding one of the bowls toward her. "exactly. now sit down and eat your noodles before you hurt yourself on those too."

ivory rolled her eyes but begrudgingly obeyed, grabbing her chopsticks. "unbelievable," she muttered, stabbing at the noodles but didn’t argue further. for a moment, they just simply ate in silence, the warmth of the broth filling the space between them. it was simple—just instant ramen—but somehow, in this quiet moment, it tasted like something more. like her childhood. 

soft. safe. simple.

then came the subject of sleeping. something ivory hadn’t necessarily worried about. from what she remembered, her mother had a guest room or two. she assumed she’d be staying there for the night, maybe for the next few days. it made sense, at least. the world was up in arms over them both, and she couldn’t exactly show her face anywhere for the time being.

“um,” jane cleared her throat as she set her utensils down, glancing at her mother. “can i shower? i’ll have to borrow some of your clothes. i don’t know if they’ll fit me though.” jennie let out a bark of amusement, looking at her daughter in incredulous curiosity. “why wouldn’t you fit in my clothes?”

the younger girl blinked at her mother, taking in the absurdity of the situation as if it was truly rocket science. "wait, what do you mean, ‘why wouldn’t i fit in your clothes’?" she asked, tilting her head slowly with furrowed brows of confusion. "you're the short one here."

jennie let out a small, disbelieving laugh, her eyes narrowing playfully. "short? you’re literally only like a centimeter taller than me. barely worth mentioning, sweetheart."

ivory’s jaw dropped open slightly, her cat-like eyes widening in shock. “no. it’s definitely more than that.” the taller girl said flatly. but her mother just raised an eyebrow, straightening her posture and tilting her head slightly to the side just like her daughter had.

“wanna bet?” 

the younger girl shook her head in amusement. “can i shower first and then we can measure it?” jane asked with a huff of indulgence as she moved away from the counter. her mother just chuckled, letting her daughter go. “fine, fine. go shower, baby. but don’t take forever. i’ve got a tape measure with your name on it.”

ivory shot her a look of feigned annoyance before disappearing down the hallway, and jennie returned to her bowl of ramen, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. it had been so long since she’d had her daughter here, let alone like this—teasing her, laughing, talking like everything was normal.

a quiet thought crept into jennie’s mind. she hadn’t realized until this very second just how much she’d missed the sound of her daughter’s voice in this house. it was small, but it mattered.

she quickly shook off the sentimentality and went to clean up the table. as she put the dishes away, her eyes drifted toward the hall. then she saw those unmistakable eyes turning around to face her again from the hallway. ivory poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, looking very shy for once.

“i don’t remember where anything is.” she said hesitantly, reminding the blackpink idol of just how much time her daughter had spent outside of this place. 

jennie let out a soft chuckle, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel before stepping toward her daughter. “right. let me show you.”

leading the way down the hall, she pushed open the door to her bedroom and beelined for the closet, sliding it open with practiced ease. inside, perfectly arranged clothes lined the racks, their organization betraying the habits of someone who lived alone and had too much time to curate every inch of her space.

ivory lingered near the doorway, arms loosely crossed, watching as her mother flipped through different sweatshirts with a focused expression, muttering under her breath like this was a high-stakes styling session.

"okay," jennie mused, plucking a hoodie from its hanger and turning, pressing it against her daughter's torso as if measuring it by sight. "this one’s big enough, i think."

a slow blink. "that’s a crop top on me."

she frowned, lifting the hem slightly, as if somehow stretching the fabric would change reality. “oh.” tossing it aside without hesitation, she grabbed another and repeated the process. "alright, this one, then."

ivory glanced down, then back up with a deadpan look. "that’s chanel."

jennie blinked in confusion. "and?" 

without missing a beat, the younger girl looked at her mother as if she’d just asked if the sky was blue. "you just asked me if i want to sleep in a chanel hoodie. me, a dior ambassador, in a chanel hoodie."

"would you prefer dior?" her mother asked sarcastically. but once again, ivory didn’t even hesitate. “yes actually, i would.”

silence followed. jennie gave a slow blink. then another.

the blackpink idol’s head tilted slightly, as if waiting for the punchline. but ivory just stood there, completely unfazed, holding the chanel hoodie like it personally offended her.

the older woman narrowed her eyes. "you’re joking." her daughter crossed her arms, looking ever so serious for an eighteen year old. "i’m not."

jennie scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. “excuse me?”

“you offered.”

“that was sarcasm.”

“well,” ivory shrugged, completely deadpan. “mine wasn’t.” jennie gasped, clutching the chanel hoodie to her chest as if shielding it from betrayal. “i raised you.”

“and you did a great job,” ivory said smoothly, then nodded toward the closet. “now, do you have any dior, or should i start making some calls?”

jennie let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, tossing the hoodie onto her bed before pointing a stern finger at her daughter. "you are not calling dior for pajamas."

jane didn’t say anything but she heard her mother rumbling something about “disrespect in her own home” while storming back toward the closet. begrudgingly, she yanked out an oversized sweatshirt—the most brandless one she could find—and practically threw it at her daughter’s face.

"here. no labels. just fabric. happy now?"

the younger girl caught it with ease, holding it up to inspect it like she was checking for hidden chanel embroidery. with a thoughtful nod, she conceded, "acceptable."

jennie shot her an unimpressed look before spinning back toward the drawers for sweatpants. “unbelievable. my own daughter. a traitor.” she huffed, grabbing a pair and holding them up to her daughter's waist, eyes squinting in assessment. then she shook her head and grabbed another. then another. ivory stood there, arms flopped at her sides, letting her mother go full mom-mode as she sized her up like a store mannequin.

finally, after the fourth switch, jennie shoved a pair into her daughter's arms. "here. they should fit. but if they don’t, i don’t wanna hear it."

“you will hear it.”

jennie narrowed her eyes, a response already on the tip of her tongue. “and you will go to bed cold.” 

ivory just snorted, already walking towards her mother’s bathroom. "this is why i like dior."

jennie just threw a balled-up sock at her head.

“why do you have six different light switches and not one of them is for the actual bathroom?” jane’s voice echoed off the bathroom tiles, followed by a series of random clicks as she desperately tried to figure out which switch did what. the hallway light flicked on, then off. the closet light blinked twice. the fan whirred to life, then immediately stopped.

jennie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “it’s the second one from the left.”

a pause. more clicking.

“the other left.”

ivory groaned, but finally, the correct light turned on. "this is a design flaw," she muttered, stepping inside. her mother smirked a little, crossing her arms. “says the girl who can’t even figure out a light switch but somehow thinks she’s too good for chanel pajamas.”

the sound of running water was the only response she got.

jennie shook her head with a quiet chuckle, turning back toward her own room. she barely had a second of peace before ivory’s voice rang out again.

“wait, why is your shower so complicated?”

her mother let out an exasperated sigh, already making her way back to the bathroom like she had a toddler instead of an eighteen-year-old. “what are you talking about?”

“there are, like, four knobs in here.”

the older woman rolled her eyes lightly, leaning against the wall with her back while she listened to her daughter on the other side. “the left one is temperature, the right one is the pressure.”

“this seems unsafe. and very overcomplicated. is this what you do with your money?” 

jennie only smirked a little and pushed off the wall to leave her bedroom. “i’ll be downstairs for your official height measuring when you’re done.” she called out before leaving.

ivory finished rinsing off quickly, still grumbling to herself as she fumbled with the knobs again, making sure she wasn’t going to drown herself in another surprise burst of cold water. she stayed there for a little while, just allowing herself to exist under the warm water before she began cleaning herself off. with a final sigh of relief, she turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in one of her mother’s oversized towels. she quickly dressed in the set of clothes her mother had given her, leaving her hair damp but feeling surprisingly refreshed.

she stepped out of the bathroom and toward the stairs when she heard a soft whimper, followed by the familiar sound of paws skittering across the floor.

ivory froze mid-step.

kuma.

she hadn’t seen the fluffy dog in ages. the brown pomeranian, now a little sluggish and slower in his movements, was sitting at the top of his mother’s bed. 

“hi kuma,” jane whispered softly, rubbing his ears and kissing his forehead lightly. he was her dog before he was her mother’s. she stayed there for a few moments, her hand gently resting on kuma’s soft fur as he snuggled into her touch. he tilted his head up toward her, his eyes blinking sleepily, recognizing her scent almost immediately—drenched in the fresh, lingering smell of her mother’s shower products, but still unmistakably her. his tail wagged slowly, a tired but unmistakable recognition flashing through his eyes.

“good boy,” ivory whispered softly, her voice low and warm as she ran her fingers through his thick, soft fur. she could feel the slight tremor in his old body as he nuzzled into her, seeking comfort. and she couldn’t help but smile at the affection in his eyes. she stayed by his side, sitting down gently beside him, leaning her back against the bed. a quiet sigh escaped her lips as she stroked kuma’s fur, and within minutes, the little pomeranian’s eyelids fluttered closed. his breathing slowed, the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicating that he had finally drifted back into sleep. ivory smiled softly, her heart tugging a little. 

there was something profound about the way kuma trusted her so easily, like no time had passed at all. she always loved that about him.

after a while, the young girl stood up slowly, carefully moving the small dog back down on the bed where he curled up in a tiny, warm ball. she kissed the top of his head one last time before quietly heading downstairs.

when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated for a moment, unsure if her mother was still in the kitchen. but as she turned the corner into the living room, she found her sitting on the couch on her laptop. jennie looked up as ivory entered, but it was in a way that made the younger girl pause.

for just a second, jennie looked at her daughter with something in her eyes that ivory couldn’t quite place. it was an expression that made her chest feel tight, but not in a bad way. jennie didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze softened as she took in her daughter standing in the doorway, a faint smile playing at her lips.

and in that moment, it was almost like looking into a mirror. 

jennie saw the same eyes, the same nose, the same smile that had once been so familiar to her. it was a bit surreal, how much ivory looked like her. but there was something else too, something she hadn’t realized until now: how she looked almost nothing like him. 

almost.

ivory still had his same moles, his same aura of quiet confidence, the kind that settled into a room rather than demanded attention. it was subtle, but jennie saw it now, the faintest remnants of him woven into her daughter’s features like threads she’d tried so hard to ignore. it was in the way ivory held herself, in the way she tilted her chin ever so slightly when she was thinking, in the way her eyes flickered with a sharpness that felt both foreign and familiar.

jennie hated it.

not because she hated her—never her—but because it reminded her of a past she had long since buried, one she had clawed her way out of only to be faced with it again in the form of her daughter. a daughter who had grown up without her. a daughter she could never fully claim as just hers, no matter how much she wanted to.

she exhaled, forcing the thoughts away before they could take root.

"you look just like me, you know," jennie murmured, her voice softer than usual, almost like she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

ivory blinked, caught off guard by the comment. she hadn’t expected that. it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it—plenty of people had told her before. but somehow, hearing it from her mother, in this quiet moment, felt different.

“i’ve been told,” she said after a beat, her tone light, almost indifferent, like she was brushing it off. but the slight twitch in her fingers, the way her gaze flickered down for just a second before meeting jennie’s again—it gave her away. she wasn’t brushing it off. she was absorbing it, tucking the words somewhere deep where they wouldn’t easily be forgotten.

“can you measure me now so i can sleep?” the taller girl interrupted quietly, eager to not be stared at like an exhibit. jennie retrieved the tape measure from the counter, her fingers fidgeting with it nervously. 

wordlessly, jennie stepped closer, the tape measure unspooling in her hands with a faint whisper of fabric against metal. ivory stood still, shoulders slightly tense, as her mother reached up to press the edge of the tape against the top of her head.

"stand straight," jennie murmured, her voice quieter now, more focused.

"i am standing straight," ivory mumbled, though she subtly adjusted her posture, lifting her chin just a little.

jennie smirked, shaking her head, but didn’t say anything. instead, she placed a hand lightly on the top of her daughter's head to keep the tape steady. her touch was gentle but firm, like she was grounding ivory in place—not just physically, but in a way that neither of them could quite name.

for a moment, the only sound was the faint scratch of the measuring tape sliding between jennie’s fingers. ivory’s eyes darted away, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were, how her mother’s gaze flickered between the tape and her face, studying her like she was something fragile.

“let’s see,” jennie said aloud, adjusting the tape slightly, before raising her eyebrows. “165 centimeters. so, you’ve got a whole two centimeters on me.”

her daughter’s lips twitched in a small, teasing smile. “good.” her mother stepped back, the tension between them lifting just a little. "you’ve grown," she murmured, her voice unexpectedly tender.

ivory didn’t respond right away, a slight discomfort settling in her chest. she could feel her mother’s eyes on her, studying her, and it was both too much and not enough. there were so many things she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure how to begin.

all she did know was that she didn't want to deal with it right now. 

"well, i'm done now. can i go to bed?" ivory decided on, her tone a little more blunt than necessary. jennie smiled softly, though there was a touch of wistfulness in her gaze. "of course. 

“um,” the younger girl cleared her throat awkwardly. “where am i sleeping?” 

ever since her mother moved houses, she never thought she’d have the opportunity to stay over at jennie’s new house. let alone even have a space in it.

ivory had never really thought about it before—where she would sleep if she ever ended up here. it just never seemed like an option, like something she was supposed to consider. her mother had moved into this house long after they stopped living together, after things had settled into the rhythm of separate lives. and for some reason, ivory had just assumed there wouldn’t be a place for her here.

jennie’s expression shifted, something knowing flickering behind her eyes. she stood up from the couch, smoothing down her sweatshirt, and motioned for ivory to follow. “come on,” she said simply.

ivory hesitated for a second before trailing after her mother through the hallway. the house was quiet, the kind of late-night stillness that made everything feel heavier, like every sound or movement carried more weight.

jennie stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall, resting her hand on the doorknob. for a second, she just looked at it, exhaling softly before turning back to her daughter.

"you'll be in here."

the moment ivory stepped inside, and her breath caught in her throat. the room wasn’t just any guest room. 

it was hers.

she could tell immediately from the color scheme to the little personal touches that screamed familiarity. the bookshelf was stocked with books she had loved as a child, some she had long since forgotten. a plush couch sat by the window, draped with the blanket she used to carry around when she was younger. even the vanity had her favorite candle positioned neatly next to a few boxes of her favorite skincare brands, as if someone had been waiting for her to use them.

slowly, the taller girl turned around to face her mother. “you kept a room for me?”

jennie leaned against the doorway, her expression unreadable for a second before softening. “always.”

jane’s throat tightened, a maelstrom of emotions warring inside her. “but you had that rule,” she whispered, referencing the rule jennie had set when she was younger—the rule that said she couldn’t stay with her overnight, that she had to return to jieun’s house no matter what.

jennie nodded, stepping closer. “i did. and i hated it every single day. but just because i couldn’t have you here physically didn’t mean i wasn’t hoping for the day you’d walk through that door.” she paused, eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her daughter. “so i kept it ready for you. in case you ever needed to come home.”

home.

it wasn’t a word ivory had ever associated with this house. not even once. but now, standing in the doorway of this room—her room—she couldn’t deny the way the air shifted around her, settling heavy in her chest, thick with something unspoken.

her fingers curled slightly at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as she took another step into the room. it felt untouched yet lived-in, like time had been waiting for her to fill the space. she traced the edge of the desk, eyes catching on the faint scratches along the wood—marks left behind by restless hands, old notebooks, or maybe nothing at all. but it felt like hers. it felt kept.

jennie watched her quietly, her presence lingering near the door but not intruding. she had always been like this, even when ivory was little—close enough to catch her if she fell but never forcing her to take the step.

ivory turned back, gripping the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “why?” her voice wasn’t accusatory, just quiet. curious.

her mother’s lips parted slightly before she exhaled, her gaze flickering to the bookshelf, to the neatly folded blanket, to the little things she had never been able to let go of. “because you were always supposed to have a place here,” she said finally. “even when i couldn’t have you the way i wanted.”

the admission sat heavy between them, unspoken things threading through the spaces in jennie’s voice.

ivory swallowed, her throat dry. the years between them stretched long, filled with days where she had wondered, did she even want me there? she had told herself she was fine without the answer. she had convinced herself it didn’t matter.

but it did.

she shifted, glancing toward the bed. the comforter was tucked in the way she liked—smooth, precise, but not too stiff—just the way she used to fix it when she was younger. the pillows were fluffed to the perfect degree of overstuffed, the kind she could sink into after a long day. it was almost unsettling how well her mother had remembered the details, how effortlessly she had preserved something ivory didn’t even know still existed.

her gaze flickered toward the couch, where a familiar blanket lay draped over the armrest. the second she picked it up, her fingers brushing against the worn fabric, the scent hit her—something warm, something familiar. a mix of faint detergent, a trace of something floral, and a whisper of her past itself. it smelled like childhood. like late nights curled up on the couch, like small hands gripping the edges while she fought off sleep waiting for her mother to come home late at night.

her chest ached. a slow, creeping kind of feeling that settled in her ribs, spreading through her like a quiet realization she wasn’t quite ready to name.

jennie must have noticed the shift in her expression because she took a careful step forward, her voice softer than before. “valentine—”

“i’m tired,” the younger girl murmured, cutting her off. the words weren’t sharp, but they left no room for anything more. not tonight.

jennie stilled, eyes lingering on her as if she wanted to say something else. to explain. to reach out. but she didn’t. instead, she nodded, stepping back with quiet understanding.

“alright,” she said gently. “get some rest.”

ivory didn’t watch her leave, didn’t wait for the door to click shut before she sat down on the bed, the blanket still clutched in her hands. the room felt heavy—not suffocating, but full. full of things unsaid, full of time lost and time kept, full of something that made her throat tighten and her fingers grip the fabric just a little harder.

she wasn’t sure what to do with all of this; the room, the words, the weight in her chest.

but for the first time in her life, home didn’t feel like a foreign concept.

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CLOSED.

[danadiadea]

1) Beating one's wife was once seen as normal? Homophobia was once seen as normal? Actually within the Harry Potter universe thinking that Voldemort had the right ideas and being a blood purist was normal! The death eaters outnumbered the Order 20:1, Sirius says that lots of people thought Voldemort had the right ideas, and even after the war British wizards literally had chosen a blood purist (at least according to Albus) as their Minister! Why would you say Snape was wrong for using the word Mudblood then?

The thing is, a violation of one's bodily boundaries and basic feelings of privacy and safety and control would influence the victim's mental health, even if the perpetrator supposedly "doesn't know" it's wrong.

I have zero idea what is tcoptp, I'm pretty sure we are discussing Harry Potter books? Is it some kind of Marauders fanfition or what?... The only people who do almost exactly what James did in the books are the Death Eaters to the family of Muggles in GoF, and every character understands how wrong it is. Also it's strongly implied that James took Snape's underwear off – there is no reason to include the phrase that suggests something that can't be shown in the books for children and pull Harry out just after it if the author didn't want to convey that it happened.

2) well if you are stating something it's rather logical people would confront it if it's not true

3) we see that James during the SWM insistently asks Lily out, including the bit when he tries to blackmail her (the quote in punkt 7). After she said "no" and "I hate you" as clearly as she did, the only possibly normal thing to do was to leave her alone. But James kept trying to win her attention for at least one more year and for at least one more year she kept refusing. Then he supposedly stopped hexing people "for the fun of it" and she agreed to date him, and he "didn't take Snape on their dates to hex him" so that she doesn't change her mind. Even if we assume that his try to ask Lily out in that manner during the SWM was the first one (which I personally don't think is likely), it surely wasn't anywhere near the last one. And this is absolutely a disregard to her boundaries and a belief that she is supposed to date him because it's his wish.

Harry was literally so horrified with their dynamics his initial thought was that his father had forced his mother into a relationship.

4) WHAT respectful kind adults? Albus "I'll silence your murder attempt" Dumbledore? Minerva "thinks that sending 11yo kids to the forest where something kills unicorns is a great punishment" McGonagall? Horace "made an elitist club inside the school" Slughorn? Did they ever stop the bullying? No, they didn't. Did they ever stop the DEs recruiting children? No, they didn't. Hogwarts was full of neglectful adults who weren't doing their goddamn jobs. What are you talking about.

5) Shoving Harry in OoTP sure wasn't good, but it wasn't intentionally cruel. Harry literally retraumatised Snape, and after he trusted Harry enough to leave him alone with the memories that not only held Snape's most private life moments, but also probably the war secrets Harry absolutely shouldn't have known, Harry decided to peek inside, witnessing his teacher being assaulted and almost seeing him fully naked. Literally anyone would've lost control in a situation like that – it's called having a nervous system. Way fewer people would humiliate and tie up and choke with soap and raise up in the air and undress their classmate because their friend had been bored.

Also, McGonagall grabbed 11yo Draco's ear because he broke curfew? Most things that Snape did as a teacher other teachers also did, only with much flimsier exuses. The only characters we see doing what James did in the books are, yet again, the DEs.

6) calling DEs nazis is very problematic, but ok. Snape WAS a mean and deeply imperfect teacher (i don't remember when did he make fun of Ron's wand though? and the questions he asked Harry weren't advanced, a 11yo muggleborn girl had known the answers. also he DID make Trevor drink the potion and it WAS safe). His actions weren't out of the ordinary for Hogwarts stuff, but yeah, he had a lot of room for improvement. That doesn't make Snape "the other side of the coin" of a privileged bully. This makes Snape a disfunctional adult not really cut out for his job.

being groomed into a terrorist group and calling his friend a slur during a traumatic event doesn't make Snape the other side of the coin of a privileged bully either, it makes him a textbook example of a discriminated and vulnerable youth who falls easy prey to radicalisation. which isn't good by any means, but it's not bad in the same way hexing people because you find it amusing is.

7) "I will [leave Snape alone] if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on . . . Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again"

Frankly, the James/Lily interactions make me hate him almost as much as James/Severus interactions.

8) "And my mum was okay with that [James still hexing Snape on their 7th year]?”

“She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,” said Sirius. “I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?”

You could soften that to "withheld information" I guess, but he clearly understood that Lily would be unhappy with that if she knew. And this is the info James' literal best friend is giving on him, lol.

9) I refer to that sneaking out: "James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell — also, Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions". That's how we know that Albus didn't take the Cloak for "experimenting" (which had been a dumb exuse, since that stuff can hide people from death and this is something Potters needed a lot), but so that James stays at his freaking Fidelius hidden home with their infant.

James died because he chose a secret keeper with his ass, sorry. There was no reason for him to die, if he just listened to Albus or at least became a keeper himself, he would've lived. When Voldemort already was at his house, he didn't have a choice.

I don't care about who is a bastard and who is not – what I'm saying is that people hurting others because they think it's funny and because they feel like they have a right to do it are not the same as people hurting others because they are traumatised and triggered. I agree Snape wasn't cut dry bad or good, just like Sirius, or Remus, or Albus (with their own good and bad sides, and in quite different ways and proportions), but frankly, James wasn't given any redeeming qualities except for being a part of the Order and not hating his friends as much as Sirius did (aka stopping Lupin from killing Snape). That's it. His change is nowhere in the books. His good deeds are nowhere in the books. He and Snape are not "cruel" or "arrogant" in the same way at all.

hey gang. are we gonna talk about how Snape grew into exactly what he perceived teenage James Potter to be? unnecessarily cruel, picked on those with less power than him, arrogant (debatable for Snape but the 'I can teach you how to bottle fame brew glory stopper death etc' speech was him GLAZING himself LMAO) and found a target in a kid with a difficult family life?

this isnt a criticism of Snape or James. this is just an observation and objective fact. both Snape and James were/did the things I listed above, James in his adolescence and Snape in his adulthood. I just found it interesting.

EDIT: by saying you hate snape you're essentially saying you hate teenage james potter haha. you can't have it both ways, they're two sides of the same coin

[notablenotions]

The Masks of Nobility- Chapter 4

Jitka scribbled in her notebook as she studied the chamomile in the herb garden. The regional variations were subtle but noticeable to a discerning eye. When there were fewer eyes on her, she would have to return for a more detailed analysis. She made a mental note to do so.

Behind her, George yawned, clearly exhausted from the previous night's festivities. He followed her, grateful for the brew she had given him that dulled the worst of his hangover. She wondered if, after experiencing the true aftermath of merriment without her remedies, her family would regret marrying her off to the first person—well, persons—her uncle could find who would take her.

George leaned over her shoulder, watching as she jotted down her notes.

"Are you not sore? I heard for women it hurts," he asked bluntly.

Jitka continued writing. "I'm fine, George. Honestly."

George frowned. "Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand? Did he treat you kindly?"

Before he could continue, Henry of Skalitz stormed into the garden, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel path. Behind him, Hans trailed closely, clinging to Henry’s presence like a child hiding behind his mother’s skirts.

George raised a quizzical eyebrow at the ridiculous display.

Jitka sighed. So much for finishing her study of regional herb variations.

Henry bowed, his formality at odds with the obvious irritation in his stance.

"Milady, I apologize for the intrusion, and I mean no offense by my words."

George straightened, stepping protectively in front of Jitka, his back straight and shoulders squared to rival Henry’s stance. The entire situation became even more farcical.

Jitka shoved George aside. "George, you’re being ridiculous. Go fetch the brew for after-merriment."

George hesitated but begrudgingly obeyed, muttering under his breath as he stalked off.

Now alone with her husband and his ever-loyal bodyguard, Jikta glanced at Henry, who looked as though he would rather be anywhere else. Then, at Hans, peering over Henry’s shoulder as if using him as a shield.

Honestly. Her husband was a fool.

Henry exhaled. "Ladyship, as Sir Hans’s bodyguard, his safety is my priority."

Jitka nodded along. "As it should be. That’s reasonable."

Henry blinked, clearly not expecting such a cordial response.

"You see... Sir Hans believes you may have poisoned him on, erm… your wedding night. Sir Hans can be—" Henry hesitated, searching for the right word. "Suspicious."

George, who had just returned with the brew, choked.

"Sakra, Jikta! What did you do?!" He grabbed her arm as if to shake a confession out of her.

Unnecessary. As far as Jitka was concerned, she had done both of them a favor.

"Yes, I did."

Silence.

Hans gasped, the sound scandalized.

"See, Henry! I told you!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

More silence. As if they all expected her to elaborate.

George pinched the bridge of his nose. "Christ, Jitka. Why? …Wait. Did he hurt you?"

Hans gasped again, this time in what Jikta could only assume was utter indignation.

"I would never hurt a maid!"

Henry raised a hand, signaling for the conversation to slow before Hans could launch into another melodramatic outburst.

"Jikta, please explain."Henry retorted rubbing his temples in frustration.

She tilted her head. Oh, that’s what they wanted?

"Perhaps we should go somewhere private, my lord. Wherever my lord feels safest?" Jitka said calmly, her tone collected despite the chaos surrounding them.

----

Apparently, her husband lacked the cognitive ability to pick up on subtlety, because now they were all crammed into Henry’s humble lodgings.

Silence fell. They all looked at her.

George cleared his throat. "Jitka, I think they—"

"You were going to explain," he reminded.

Jitka nodded, fidgeting with her hands. She couldn’t exactly say, I saw my husband and his bodyguard in an intimate embrace, especially not in front of George. She had no idea how Hans or Henry would react, and any misstep could reflect poorly on her—and that she couldn’t afford.

"What you described as poison," she began slowly, "was what I would call a... sleeping draught."

She glanced down at her hands again, trying to avoid the intensity of their focus. This entire situation required tact, diplomacy—things she was utterly ill-equipped for.

"My lord," she looked briefly at Hans, "you seemed tired... the bags under your eyes, the distress… perhaps from drink? I felt you needed rest."

Hans leaned forward, clearly not buying it, his brows furrowed in doubt.

She panicked, her words tumbling out in a rush.

She had to fix this.

A husband bedding his guard meant a husband who left her be. An arrangement she found agreeable. A husband who hated her or thought her a witch could bring far worse hardship.

She cleared her throat; her mouth felt dry as sand.

"You see, my lord, I... might be described—politely—as odd. Ill-fitting for my noble blood."

George tried to interject. "Jikta, that’s not—"

But she pressed on, ignoring him.

"I struggle to be touched. By anyone. I have no romantic inclinations."

Hans interrupted, eyes wide. "What—none? Not even after seeing me?!" His voice was full of bewilderment, as if her very existence challenged the natural order.

Henry choked on his breath, unable to suppress a laugh. The irony of Hans's inflated ego never failed to amuse.

Jitka remained serious. "None at all. And you may have noticed I’m utterly hopeless in social situations. The noise, the fabric of the dress, the entire day was... unbearable. And bedding, with a jeering crowd outside... it was too much." Her voice faltered into a whisper, eyes fixed on her hands, burning with shame.

She risked a glance at Hans.

To her surprise, there was sympathy—almost empathy—in his eyes. And... relief? Perhaps to him, her issues were far easier to stomach than the alternative—a demon summoning witch.

She pressed on. "When I saw what I perceived as similar grief in you, and unwillingness, I—"

Henry stepped in, voice steady.

"Decided to take it upon yourself to protect both of you."

Hans looked at Henry thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. He’d gone still—no longer the panicked, petulant prince, but the lord he’d been raised to be: measured, guarded.

Hans pressed a finger to his lips in thought. "I appreciate the intention..." he murmured, clearly lost in deeper considerations.

Henry added, "You didn’t know how milord would react, so you spiked his wine."

Jikta nodded, staring at her knees, feeling like a child being scolded by her old nursemaid, Nan.

"Despite being wed, my lord... I do not know you. A husband can treat his wife as he sees fit."

Hans nodded, acknowledging the imbalance. Then, suddenly, he laughed—a bright, incredulous sound.

"Christ, woman," he wiped a tear from his eye, chuckling. "I can see the sound logic behind such a ridiculous plan that even I, Hans Capon, am left without words."

He sprang up, still chuckling, his tone laced with amusement—and something else: warmth.

"Fear not, wife. We will talk later. Henry, come."

His voice was light, but not unkind.

At the door, he paused, voice softening into a tone Jitka had heard her father use to comfort her as a child. Reassuring. Gentle.

"I’ll come to your chambers this evening. Just to discuss how we might wear out the nose of this marriage."

With a flourish, he strode out, Henry following after.

George sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Fucksake, Jitka."

[hy6erion]

I have an idea for a bbno$ one shot ! maybe reader could be meeting him during a game convention or a music festival being a bit oblivious about who he his and just hanging out with him at an after party where they can get closer 😉

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐁𝐛𝐧𝐨$ (𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐆𝐮𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧) 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭- 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫.

The convention floor buzzed with life—neon lights flickering, game soundtracks overlapping in a chaotic symphony and bursts of laughter from groups crowded around different booths. The air smelled like a mix of energy drinks, popcorn, and the faint whiff of sweat from people who had probably been in the same spot grinding out a game demo for hours.

You navigated through the crowd, adjusting the strap of your bag, which was already stuffed with free merch and an unnecessary number of stickers you’d impulsively picked up. It was your first time at this gaming convention, and while you’d planned to check out a few panels, the main goal was just to soak in the atmosphere. The venue was massive, and you’d already gotten lost twice trying to find the indie game showcase area.

That’s when you nearly walked straight into someone.

“Oh—my bad,” you said, stepping back quickly before you could full-on crash into them.

“No worries, I wasn’t looking either.”

The guy in front of you grinned easily, adjusting the round sunglasses perched on his nose—indoors, for some reason. His outfit—a loose-fitting graphic tee, baggy pants, sneakers that looked both expensive and effortlessly cool—gave off an effortlessly stylish but laid-back vibe. He had the air of someone who either belonged here or was too famous to care.

You went to step around him, expecting the usual awkward shuffle when two people try to pass each other at the same time, but he mirrored your movement. You both paused.

“Alright,” he mused, tilting his head with a smirk, “we can do this the easy way or the fun way.”

You let out a short laugh, stepping aside again. “Let’s go with easy. I get the feeling you’d win if we started dancing.”

“You never know,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You here for the whole weekend?”

There was something about the way he casually started a conversation—like he half-expected you to recognize him. He did seem familiar, but you couldn’t quite place him. Maybe a streamer? A YouTuber? Someone who had one of those faces that made you second-guess yourself?

“Yeah, first time here. Figured I’d check it out.”

“Good choice,” he said, nodding like you’d just made a life-altering decision. “I’ve been to a few of these, but this one’s got solid energy. You play?”

“A little. More casual, though.”

“Same,” he admitted, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Terrible at competitive stuff, but I like pretending I know what I’m doing.”

That made you laugh. “That’s half the fun.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

Somehow, the conversation didn’t stop there. Instead of walking off in different directions, you ended up drifting through the convention together, bouncing from booth to booth. You competed in a chaotic rhythm game that neither of you were particularly good at, browsed through an artist alley where he playfully tried to convince you to buy the most ridiculous prints, and stopped for overpriced snacks.

“Alright, serious question,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table while you both waited for your drinks. “If you could only play one game for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Oh, that’s evil,” you groaned, pretending to think hard about it. “Probably something open-world. I need options.”

“Solid choice,” he said, nodding approvingly. “I respect that. Now, if you say something cursed like Flappy Bird, we’re gonna have to fight.”

You snorted. “I feel like you’ve got some deep, unresolved trauma with Flappy Bird.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said dramatically, shaking his head.

The conversation was effortless, laced with teasing and playful banter. It was easy, and despite how chaotic the convention was, you barely noticed time passing.

When evening rolled around, he glanced at his phone and then at you. “There’s an after-party happening nearby. You should come.”

You hesitated. “I don’t know… I don’t really know anyone here.”

“Well, now you know me,” he said simply, flashing a charming grin. “And I’m excellent company.”

You eyed him. “Bold claim.”

“Not a claim,” he shot back. “A fact.”

Something about the way he said it—so effortlessly confident—made you cave.

—

The after-party was at a sleek lounge not far from the convention center. Despite the upscale setting, the atmosphere was relaxed, neon lights washing everything in soft blues and purples. A DJ was already spinning a set, a few people dancing in the middle of the floor while others gathered in booths and along the bar.

Alex had introduced you to a few people—some industry folks, a couple of musicians, even a streamer you vaguely recognized—but he never strayed too far from your side.

At some point, the two of you ended up outside on the balcony, leaning against the railing. The night air was cooler out here, crisp and refreshing against your skin. Below, the city stretched out, lights flickering in the distance.

“Alright,” you said, crossing your arms with a teasing look. “You seem way too comfortable in a setting like this. Either you’re a social butterfly, or you’ve got a secret identity.”

He smirked. “What, you think I’m a spy?”

“I don’t know, Alex,” you mused playfully. “You’ve got the sunglasses. That’s suspicious behavior.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, I do music.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like… producing?”

“No. Rapping.” He watched your reaction closely.

You blinked. “Wait, for real?”

“You really don’t know who I am, huh?”

You shrugged. “Should I?”

Instead of looking annoyed, he grinned wider. “Damn. That’s kind of refreshing.”

“Now you’re making me feel bad,” you said, laughing. “Like, should I be googling you right now?”

“Only if you wanna ruin the mystery,” he teased, taking a slow sip of his drink. “But nah, I like this. You’re not treating me any different. Usually, people either try too hard or get weird about it.”

You considered that for a moment before smirking. “I mean, I can start acting weird if you want.”

“Oh? What would that look like?”

You dramatically widened your eyes. “Oh my god. Alex. I can’t believe it’s you.” You grabbed his arm. “I need a selfie. Autograph my forehead. Oh my god, I’m literally shaking.”

He cracked up, tilting his head at you. “Okay, that was alarmingly good. Kinda scary.”

“I try.” You took a sip of your drink, meeting his gaze over the rim of the glass. “But in all seriousness, you’re fun to be around. Even if you’re secretly famous.”

He shot you a finger gun. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The conversation stretched on, the playful flirting escalating. At one point, he leaned in a little closer, voice lower, smoother.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “I might need to kidnap you for all my future events. You’re making this way too fun.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me?”

He smirked. “Well, obviously, you get my stellar company. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime deal, you know.”

You laughed. “Wow. So generous.”

“Exactly,” he said, nudging you lightly. “So what do you say? Stick around a little longer? I feel like I haven’t properly impressed you yet.”

You met his gaze, considering it for a moment before smirking. “Alright, Alex. Let’s see what else you got.”

And just like that, the night was far from over.

[writingdevil]

Hello! Thank you for responding to my previous ask so quickly, I was the anon who asked if repeat ships are okay!

I would love to see more of Skeptic x Opportunist from you, if you are open to that! I really, really like how you wrote it last time, I think you captured dynamic so well!!! And so I wanted to request it again <3

[I will also take this space to say again that your writing is amazing, and I am very much inspired by it! Thanks for doing what you do <3]

(AAAH HI EVEREST!!! You're so sweet! I'm glad you like how I wrote them, because I wasn't sure if I would get them right, but I'm glad to hear otherwise! Thank you for liking my writing, and it's insane to hear that you're even inspired by it, and even more so to see it-it's so crazy to hear coming from someone who's such a talented artist like you! I've fallen even more in love with Skeptunist because of you, so I really hope you enjoy this one!)

(Warning-Suicidal thoughts and attempted suicide)

Opportunist never liked to let his guard down around others, especially in front of the ones who didn't trust him even when he was trying to play nice. He refused to stop the performance.

But there was one place that Opportunist could put the mask away for-his bedroom.

The sound of his footsteps felt muffled in his own ears as he quickly walked up his door, keeping his shaking hands firmly clasped behind his back. He didn't know why he did it. It just made him feel like he had some sort of control right now.

The tears were already pooling in his eyes as he opened the door, and a shuddering breath was forced out of him, and he hoped that the slamming of his door covered up the pathetic noise.

The instant he was in his room, in his 'safe' space, was when his paper thin walls crumbled, and Opportunist could do nothing but shake and freeze and breathe heavily on the spot, eyes wide and unblinking as tears streamed down his face.

Worthless.

He was worthless.

He feared that if he moved then something even worse would happen to him, and he wouldn't know how to deal with that, so he just forced himself to remain as still as possible, only letting small, hushed whimpers escape his mouth.

How can something that came from a God turn out so unsatisfactory? Why can't Opportunist make himself fit in like the others can? Why wasn't he enough?

Everyday, he wakes up and he tries. He looks at who he wants to deal with, and he tries to match their energy, to get them to like the version that he's putting out-so then Opportunist knows how to talk to them in the future, so that he'll actually feel part of the flock for once.

But nobody trusts him.

So nobody bothers with him.

They don't match his smiles, or entertain his ideas like they used to. It's hard for a performer to act with no music, and that's exactly how Opportunist felt when he tries to socialise with the others nowadays.

He fumbles on stage. He doesn't know his lines. The lights are suddenly too bright for him, and he runs off stage.

It used to be so easy to have the others wrapped around his finger, to play a part, to try and get what he wants. It used to be easy to know who to befriend, who would give him the most power and safety-but that's not the case anymore.

His feet finally moved when he feared his crying was becoming louder, and he stiffly walked further into his room, a room that was so bland, so full of nothing that it made him sick.

He couldn't use his normal tricks anymore because He's not here. No, He had decided to go off with the Shifting Mound, and leave the rest of them to fend for themselves as if they meant nothing to Him, as if everything they tried to do to keep him alive meant nothing to Him.

Even if He didn't see the point, the voices always had a chance to take control and do what needed to be done. Paranoid did it. Skeptic did it. Opportunist also did it, but for some reason, it was horrific and appalling when he did it. Why? Why was everything bad when Opportunist suddenly did it? Why did nobody see how he saw things?

He knows that he played a little dirty in some cases, but it was all for the sake of survival, because what was the alternative? Letting her get the upper hand? No, Opportunist would've done anything if it meant keeping Him alive-

-even if it meant everyone now hates his guts, he guessed.

The sound of his own snivelling angered him. He wanted to yell and curse and plot all at the same time, but his head was bursting with too many painful emotions and memories to even think about his next move. He just couldn't take playing the game anymore.

He sucked in a sharp breath, wondering for a brief, embarrassing minute, if this was the first time Opportunist allowed himself to cry. How pathetic would that be?

Nobody trusts him anymore because the big guy left them, so they could all see through Opportunist's tricks all the more clearly now. They could guess what Opportunist wanted when he smiled at them, or complimented them-and they wanted no part of him anymore, because why would they need a backstabber in their supposed time of peace?

They didn't, which meant that they didn't need him anymore.

His crying calmed down now, but his face was still hot and damp, and he was left panting heavily, right on the edge of a panic attack, as he stared at nothing, his mind still whirling with dark thoughts.

The flock hated him. The flock hated him. The flock wanted him gone.

His eyes moved to his pillow.

It was only a matter of time until they couldn't take much more of him anymore, until all his tricks at getting the others to like him proved too much to bear, and they kicked him out.

After all, they weren't trapped in a single body anymore, so there wasn't a need to keep everyone around-and Opportunist was the obvious first choice to go.

He took an unsteady step forward, his body still wracked with fearful, pitiful emotions, and he reached a hand out towards his pillow, gripping the soft cushion tightly, before throwing it across the room.

A knife.

He didn't feel safe at night without a knife under his pillow, to the point where he couldn't even sleep without one. What if one of the others like Cold or Cheated decided to just get rid of him in the night? He refused to take that risk, so he slept armed.

He stared at the knife for a few minutes, finding himself actually calming down at the sight of it. Maybe that was a sign that he was too far gone for the flock's liking. Maybe he was just a relentless backstabber.

He didn't even realise that he had been reaching out for the knife, until his fingers wrapped around the hilt. His breathing started to pick up again, and tears pricked the corner of his eyes once more.

He lifted the knife.

His grip was shaky, unstable, and soon his vision blurred as tears streamed down his face again, and his body shook with the force of his sobs.

Weak. Pitiful. Useless.

Evil evil evil-

Opportunist tried so hard, but it was never good enough. He was never good enough. He didn't trust the others enough and he wasn't trustworthy. They had their beliefs and Opportunist had his lies. They were loved by Him, and Opportunist wasn't.

His brain felt like it was drowning, and he couldn't look away from the knife.

In the far distance, he thought he heard a sound.

But everything he did was for Him and the flock. Could they not see that? Could nobody see what he was trying to do? He loves them all so much, and sometimes love made him do things that the others wouldn't agree with.

Lie, trick, act-who cares, so long as they didn't die in that awful cabin.

But there wasn't a princess in a cabin anymore, but Opportunist still has his mask, because that's all he knows. That's all he was born for-to be opportunistic.

His heart ached, too tired and lonely to keep going anymore. He thought he heard a voice calling out for him.

The flock hated him. The flock couldn't stand him, and there was nothing he could do to change their minds, not this time. So where does that leave him?

The knife felt too heavy in his hand. Another sound, louder this time, almost worried even.

Opportunist was all alone. It was either him or them. He could attack them, threaten them, make them keep him, but then he'd spend every waking moment looking over his shoulder.

He slowly started to move the knife.

Or maybe-maybe it would be easier to remove him from the problem, if he was so detestable. That-That would satisfy both sides, would it not? The flock would be free of him, and Opportunist could finally relax for once in his worthless life. Then everyone's happy. Then they'll finally like Opportunist.

A sob was ripped out of him, and he couldn't see past his tears anymore.

It was either him or the flock, and he picked-

"Opportunist!"

A door suddenly opened, and Opportunist flinched, head snapping up and causing more tears to fall, but all he could focus on was Skeptic, who had walked into his room.

He saw the shock and horror on the other's face as Skeptic froze, staring at something in Opportunist's hands, and that was when Opportunist finally looked down.

The blade was pointed towards his heart.

So he picked the flock, huh?

"Oppy," but then there was Skeptic's soft voice, and that was when it hit him that Skeptic was in the room with him.

Opportunist lifted his head, but his brain couldn't come up with anything to make all this go away. His eyes met Skeptic's, and he could tell that Skeptic was trying to piece together what was happening, even if it seemed obvious to Opportunist.

"Oppy," Skeptic repeated, taking a step into the room and softly closing the door behind him. Opportunist was too scared to move. "What's going on here?"

Opportunist opened his mouth, but no words came out, and he could taste the salt of his tears, which made him want to throw up. He's never been speechless before. He had no idea what to do right now, and that terrified him.

But Skeptic was patient, and never took his eyes off Opportunist, and there wasn't a hint of outrage or pity to be seen in Skeptic's eyes. Opportunist wasn't sure what way he was looking at him, but it gave him enough courage to try and speak.

"I-I-" Opportunist's voice sounded rough and weak in his own ears, and it almost sounded like a completely different person. "I-I'm just-taking care of a problem."

"What problem is that, exactly?" Skeptic asked quietly, taking another step forward, and Opportunist flinched away, his wings tucked in tightly against his back.

His throat burned with the need to cry again, and Opportunist hated how his body kept betraying him, letting another round of tears trail down his flushed face as his face crumpled up.

Skeptic tried to reach a hand out to him, but Opportunist suddenly let a choked sob out and exclaimed, "The problem is me!"

Skeptic flinched at the outburst, but Opportunist couldn't stop now. "I know you all hate me," he said lowly, the knife shaking in his grip, "I know that you all wish that I wasn't a part of the flock anymore, so I'm just taking one for the team." His face stretched into an empty, cruel smile. "How kind of me, right?"

There was a flash of shock in Skeptic's eyes, before he gave Opportunist a sympathetic look and softly said, "Oppy, none of us hate you-"

"Don't lie to me!" Opportunist shouted, and in doing so, moved the knife closer so that the tip was grazing the feathers on his chest.

Skeptic's eyes widened in panic, but he stopped at Opportunist's words.

Opportunist glared at the other, suddenly feeling a spark of anger, even though the only person he was mad at was himself. "You're the smartest bird around Skeptic, so don't stand there and tell me that you're not waiting for me to finally get the hint and fuck off out of your life, because we both know that's not true!"

He took a second to suck in some much needed air, feeling Skeptic's gaze on him like a burn on his body.

Skeptic just stared at him for what felt like an eternity, the heavy silence threatening to kill Opportunist before the knife did.

He had no idea what was running through Skeptic's mind, but when he couldn't take the silence anymore, he lowered his head to the ground, watching his tears hit the floor, and whispered, "It's okay if you hate me. I'd hate me too after the things I did."

Opportunist kept his head bowed, and then he was staring down at Skeptic's hands.

He stared in disbelief, not realising that Skeptic had gotten so close to him. Skeptic reached out and carefully wrapped his hands around the hilt of the knife, and gently pulled it away from Opportunist.

There was no resistance.

Skeptic sighed, and there was the dull clatter of the knife being thrown across the floor, far away from both of them.

Skeptic's hands found Opportunist's, and his grip was so soft that it made him weep quietly, because he's not sure if he's held hands with any one of them before.

"Oppy," came Skeptic's gentle yet gruff voice, "Can you look at me, please?"

He wanted to, but he was too scared of breaking down even more than he already has.

He felt Skeptic lean in closer, until he pressed his forehead against his, and despite the anguish in his heart, Opportunist's eyes fluttered shut as he released a sigh.

"Oppy," Skeptic whispered, "Nobody wants you to leave the flock. Nobody thinks that way about you." Opportunist shook his head as much as he could. "You're lying to me. I know how you all feel about me."

"Well, I can't speak for others, but I know how I feel about you, and it's absolutely not hatred." Opportunist tried to shake his head, but then he felt soft hands cup his face, wipe away his tears, and tilt his head up to look into Skeptic's warm eyes.

Opportunist felt a pull towards Skeptic, like it was the only thing he could do now that wouldn't go wrong-was look into Skeptic's eyes and listen to his voice.

"Opportunist, I think you're one of the sharpest and most cunning people I have ever met. You are constantly looking for ways to give yourself the advantage, and you know exactly how to do that with just a few words sometimes. I could never do that, and you have to believe it because you just said I'm the smartest bird around."

Opportunist let an empty chuckle out, but Skeptic still gave him a small smile at the sound. "So you like the fact that I can lie and trick the others? As flattered as I am, I think the rest of the flock would disagree with you."

It was Skeptic's turn to shake his head. "I don't think so." Opportunist sighed and tried to look away, but Skeptic kept a firm grip on his face, leaning in closer as he said, "Just because some of them don't agree with your methods absolutely does not mean that they hate you. In fact, if you had-" and then Skeptic paused, seemingly choking up in the middle of his sentence, and Opportunist was genuinely surprised to find Skeptic blinking away tears.

"-if you had done that to yourself-then I don't think there could be a big enough hole to fill the grief that we would feel at your loss, that I would feel." Then Opportunist was suddenly feeling too much at once, as Skeptic took in a shaky breath-his entire composure breaking at the thought of Opportunist not in his life anymore.

Opportunist stared up at Skeptic, not quite sure what he was feeling right now. "You'd miss me that much?" he whispered, because he could not wrap his dumb brain around what Skeptic was saying.

Skeptic huffed in amusement, then said, "Oppy, why do you think I'm here in the first place? I was worried about you."

That made Opportunist freeze up, leaning his head back slightly as he quietly went, "What?"

"I came in here to check on you, because I could tell that you've been upset all day. You were quieter than usual. Your smile wasn't reaching your eyes. I could just see that there was something weighing you down, and I wanted to see if you were okay."

Opportunist's head felt like it was going to explode. It felt like there were too many emotions that he wasn't equipped to handle, spinning around in his mind, and his heart was cracking open with such a scared softness for the other. He was terrified of being this vulnerable, but he was sick of pushing all those feelings away now.

"Really?" he whispered, and Skeptic smiled, and looked him right in the eye as he whispered back, "Nobody hates you, Oppy. We all love you."

That did it.

That was what sent Opportunist over the edge, making him break down crying, and Skeptic didn't hesitate to bring him into the tightest, safest hug that Opportunist has ever felt.

He shoved his face into Skeptic's chest, hiccuping at the feel of a hand cupping the back of his head gently. Skeptic pressed his face into the top of Opportunist's head and whispered, "It's okay, it's okay Oppy. I'm here, we're here for you. We love you. The flock loves you, mask or no mask."

Opportunist cried harder, his body shaking with the terror of everything that had just happened in this room, everything that had been revealed. He knew that he should be concerned with Skeptic knowing this much about him, about how much of him was fake, but he found that he didn't care right now.

It just felt nice to be loved.

"I love you too," he mumbled into Skeptic's chest, and his heart fluttered at how Skeptic squeezed him tighter. "I just want you all to accept me."

"We do, Oppy, we do," Skeptic whispered back.

Opportunist finally believed him.

[halliejaade]

Edelweiss (Chapter 7.5)

The timeline between TFAWTS and CABNW is being shortened for the sake of Edelweiss. Also, this isn't a full chapter, just a bit of a snippet of going into the plot of CABNW. (Sorry Joaquín isn't really in this, just trying to get the bridge between the two built so that we can go at the plot full force!)

After a prolonged vacation in Miami, you're almost relieved to finally go back to some semblance of normalcy in New York.

You hadn't mentioned anything the doctor told you to your parents. Maybe you should have. Maybe you should have confronted them about it, just to see if they'd squirm. If they'd confirm everything that you hoped was false.

You stopped taking the pills, just to see if anything would happen. So far, nothing. Your headaches did get more intense, but nothing was out of the ordinary.

That doctor didn't have a clue of what she was talking about.

It made you feel better; you didn't like lying to Joaquín. At least now, it was for a good reason. He wouldn't have to unnecessarily worry about something that didn't even exist.

You did, however, keep a notebook, where you took notes of your dreams. Just in case.

There was an uncanny resemblance in all of the dreams.

The little girl. The older boy, who always disappeared after a certain point. The burning house. A man that called himself Doctor Sterns.

Your dreams never strayed from those topics.

Although convinced that the doctor was wrong, there was no harm in doing some research.

Your laptop balances precariously in one hand, a can of diet Pepsi in the other as you navigate your apartment. It was the perfect size, a one bedroom apartment on the 25th floor of an apartment building. The perfect spot for a girl in her mid-twenties.

Although, sometimes you felt as though you had a roommate.

Grace sits on the edge of the couch, painting her nails bright pink as she watches the television intently. She doesn't glance away from the screen, somehow managing to get the nail polish only on her nails, until the dog stands abruptly and knocks into the coffee table.

Oh yeah, and you'd gotten a dog.

After arriving back from Miami, you went almost directly to the pound and found an older mutt. You knew that you needed her just as much as she needed you.

Just a couple of strays looking for a place in this big world.

"Wendy," You laugh softly. "Come here."

You place your laptop on the coffee table before settling down on the couch. Wendy trots over, (yes, trots, she's nearly as big as a horse), and curls up at your feet.

Grace shakes her head at the tv. "I've never liked him."

You glance at the screen, where newly elected President Ross gives his speech. "I'm not a fan either."

Familiar.

Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't so much a voice as it was a thought. You wait, holding your breath to see if it happens again.

When silence greets you, you take a deep breath. You needed better sleep.

A search on your computer for Samuel Sterns brings up hundreds of News Articles. Mostly, you see things about the Hulk. You see things about an arrest being made.

Okay, you think. You must've seen his name in a news article of some sort and your brain came up with those silly dreams.

A clip of him on YouTube catches your eye.

'Professor Sterns, Grayburn College."

You glance at your notes, and that's written there, too.

A quick search tells you that Grayburn is in Harlem, which isn't far. Maybe you'd go there tomorrow, talk to some people, try to figure out who exactly Samuel Sterns was before he was arrested.

Danger.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Grace asks, placing her hand against your arm. Her fingertips feel like fire, the smell of her nail polish overtaking your senses. The feeling builds, your heart pounding steadily until...

Grace shouts suddenly, wrenching her hand away from you as she stumbles from the couch.

"Grace!"

Everything looks so sharp, like you're wearing someone's prescription glasses over already perfect vision.

"I-I can't see," She stammers, trembling as she reaches out in the direction she thinks you're in. You grab her hand, your vision going back to normal in such a quick amount of time that it throws you off balance.

Grace looks up at you, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what just happened there, but I couldn't see for a moment."

You have a funny feeling you know why.

"You probably need some iron supplements," You try to joke.

"Yeah, maybe," She shrugs, uneasy laughter filling the quiet space as she stands.

Sorry, that voice says, I forgot what it was like to be awake. I didn't mean to take away her sight.

Dread shivers through your bones.

Don't be afraid, Y/n. I saved your life, remember?

[aro-culture-is]

Hi i have a question. Is there a time when labeling yourself aro isn't valid? Once I saw someone say that to label one's self as aro out of conscious choice or convenience is wrong.

I ask because I'm afraid that I too am probably using the label for the purpose of dodging romance. I mean I saw no reason to label myself aromantic before, because I thought that people would, by default, not choose me as a romantic partner. I never thought of myself that way and I assumed that everyone else will follow suit. Only now, that I am directly exposed to romance, did I ever use the term aromantic to describe myself.

So this is how I got the idea to label myself aromantic. I don't want to be in a romantic relationship, but I didn't want to let my best friend down, but two weeks into it I realized that I didn't like the rules or norms of romance. It made me feel like an alien in my own skin. And then I thought, I am probably aro, and I did come out as Aro, which my best friend/romantic partner took with extreme doubt and constantly questioned me like this: "are you sure you're aro? We're in a romantic relationship now. Are you still Aro?" and I felt sort of pressured, and there I began thinking that I might be faking it?

I feel like I only said I'm Aro because I didn't like how romance works. I didn't know what I was getting into before agreeing.

Then one day I come across a post that says that you can't just say you're aro if you're saying it out of convenience, which I might have done, because I don't know how to exactly tell my best friend that our romantic relationship feels like lead in my veins. So I said, I'm aromantic.

I think I'm running around in circles here I'm so sorry. In short, I got into a romantic relationship, hated everything about it, and then labeled myself Aro in hopes to make people understand why I dislike romantic things when I'm directly involved. Is that... Invalid? And what other ways could someone be misusing the term to the detriment of the community?

Thank you for accommodating my strange ask :)

honestly, the way that you came to that conclusion - that a romantic relationship that you were/are in felt like lead in your veins - is actually... a really common way people start to realize they are actually aro? and if you hate romance when it's directed at you, that's... also a pretty common path to realizing you're aro?

for the life of me, I've never seen someone who is aromantic ever say that you can call yourself aromantic in bad faith, but I've seen a LOT of people who think all aro people are invalid/predatory/etc say that. I generally assume bad faith, because every aro person I've ever met has agreed that coming out as aro doesn't mean shit to the people that it's supposedly being shitty to in that way anyways. they neither are familiar with it, nor believe in it, and I've never personally heard a single story yet that didn't turn out to literally be like. a queerphobe, transphobe, and/or aphobe sockpuppet.

so. no. i don't think there's a time when labeling yourself aro is invalid, and in your circumstances, I think if anything, I'd strongly advise you to interact more with aro experiences and trust yourself over what others say or want you to feel. a great resource for learning more about our community is linked here:

[yvesssssssss]

Nagumo with a reader that can't handle or understand emotions or love without a condition or a certain valuable reason, like why would someone like or care about another?? (Especially Sakamoto family, why would a family care about each other, even better why care about someone outside the family like Shin?)

reader might like specific things or hang out with certain people (Nagumo) but once asked about the reason or why?

They genuinely struggle and start to lose interest and fall into existential and emotional crisis lol, tho they "like" Nagumo but never knew why and that irritates them.

Unraveling

I hope what I wrote accurately captures the idea you were going for and conveys the emotions and struggles you had in mind, and I really hope you enjoy it!

You never understood emotions. Not in the way other people seemed to.

People loved, people hated, people cared—often without any tangible reason. Families stayed together despite no real benefit, friends made sacrifices for one another, and the Sakamoto family, of all things, took in an outsider like Shin as if he were one of their own. Why? What did they get out of it?

You didn’t ask these questions aloud, but they festered in the back of your mind, quiet and relentless.

Nagumo was the closest thing you had to an exception. You spent time with him, tolerated his presence more than anyone else’s. Maybe even liked it.

But you had no answer when he finally asked:

"Why do you hang around me so much?"

It was a throwaway question, tossed lazily over his shoulder as he leaned against the store counter, spinning a small knife between his fingers. His tone was casual, teasing—but the weight of it pressed against your skull like a lead weight.

Why?

Your fingers twitched. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Nagumo noticed immediately. His dark eyes sharpened with amusement, curiosity. You’re struggling.

Your first instinct was to dismiss the question, but your mind was already spiraling.

You’d never stopped to think about it before. You weren’t with him for protection—you were capable of handling yourself. He wasn’t useful to you in any practical sense. You weren’t blood-related. There was no obligation.

And yet, you stayed.

Your head ached.

"Oi, oi," Nagumo chuckled, tapping the flat of his knife against your forehead. "That serious, huh?"

You didn’t answer. Your chest felt tight, a strange kind of panic creeping in—not fear, but something more insidious, something clawing at the foundation of your understanding.

Why?

Why?

Why?

"You're thinking too hard about it," Nagumo hummed. "Can’t you just—y’know, enjoy my company?"

That irritated you. More than it should have.

"That makes no sense."

"Oh?" His grin widened. "Why does it have to?"

It was a simple question. Almost childish. But it infuriated you. If things didn’t have reasons, then what was the point? If you couldn’t define your own attachment to him, then what did it mean?

You exhaled sharply, glaring at him. He looked amused, entertained by your inner turmoil. The way his dark eyes studied you made you feel like a puzzle he was enjoying piecing together.

But then something shifted.

Nagumo sighed dramatically and leaned in, voice dropping to something quieter, something almost thoughtful. "Maybe it’s not that deep," he murmured. "Maybe you just like how I make you feel."

You opened your mouth, then froze.

The way he made you feel.

Not what he gave you. Not what he did for you. But how you felt around him.

And that—that—was different.

You tried to recall it, the countless moments you’d spent with him. The way he filled silence so effortlessly, the way his teasing never felt sharp enough to hurt, the way his dark eyes flickered between mischief and something softer, something familiar.

You thought about the way he never pushed too far, even now, watching you with a lazy smirk but never pressing harder than you could handle. He knew you—understood your limits, knew exactly how much you could take before you’d snap.

And for the first time, a reason started forming. Not one built on logic, not one that fit neatly into your usual understanding of relationships.

You liked Nagumo because he made your world easier to exist in.

Because even when he confused you, even when his easygoing nature clashed with your need for explanations—he never made you feel wrong for it.

Because you could wrestle with your emotions, spiral into confusion, and he would just be there, laughing at your frustration but never once making you feel like you were broken.

Nagumo must have noticed the way your expression changed because he tilted his head, smirking. "Oh? That look on your face. You figure something out?"

You hated that he could read you so easily.

"Shut up," you muttered.

He laughed, bright and carefree. "That’s a yes."

And for the first time, you wanted to test something. You exhaled and looked at him, really looked at him. His dark eyes flickered with amusement, his posture relaxed, but not careless.

"If I told you why, would you leave?" you asked.

Nagumo blinked, his smirk faltering for just a second before it returned, slower this time. "Try me."

You hesitated. You make things easier. That was the simplest way to put it. You didn't feel like you had to force yourself to act a certain way around him, didn't feel like you had to fake emotions you didn’t understand.

"You don’t make me feel like I need to be anything else."

Nagumo was quiet for a beat, just watching you. Then, to your surprise, he let out a small chuckle—not his usual playful one, but something softer.

"That’s a damn good reason."

You stared at him.

"That’s it?"

"What, were you expecting something dramatic? A heartfelt confession?" He grinned. "Sorry, sweetheart, I’m not that kind of guy."

You didn’t know what you expected, but the fact that he accepted it so easily—without overanalyzing, without questioning—made something inside you settle.

"You really don’t think about things, do you?" you muttered.

Nagumo laughed. "Nope. That’s what makes me fun."

And maybe, just maybe, that was why you liked him.

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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For the first time in Katsuki’s life, he finds himself at a loss for words.

What kind of sick joke is this? It hasn’t even been that long since the two of you met, and he made sure to declare his name, loud and clear.

He’s Bakugou Katsuki. He’s the coolest kid in the world, blessed with an incredible Quirk, and he has no doubt that one day, he’ll surpass All Might as the Number One Hero.

And yet, you say you don’t remember his name? Is such a thing even possible? He’s the type of kid who leaves a lasting impression, no matter the time or place. No one who’s been lucky enough to meet him has ever, ever forgotten what his name is.

At least, not until today.

“Don’t... don’t say stupid crap,” Katsuki stammers. He swallows hard; for some reason, there’s a lump in his throat. “I know you remember me, stupid girl. Playing dumb won’t make a difference at this point.”

“I remember Izuku,” you say, pointing to the curly-haired boy in question. Then, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “But I didn’t bother memorizing your name, since I don’t like you very much. Actually, I don’t like you at all.”

Katsuki can feel his entire body trembling with rage, and to make matters even worse, several of his classmates have turned their heads and are now watching the scene unfold.

In Katsuki’s eyes, he’s always been the best. Ever since his Quirk manifested, or rather, even before that, his confidence has known no bounds. The universe blessed him with immeasurable power, and at the same time, cursed him with a remarkably inflated ego.

He’s gifted. He’s strong. To top it all off, he’s smart too.

So then, why are you staring at him as if you genuinely don’t give a single fuck?

“What’s wrong, blond guy?” you frown. “You’re making a funny face. Ah, don’t tell me. Are you constipated? Aizawa says it’s important to go to the bathroom on time and not to hold it in. Otherwise, you might—”

“Shut your goddamn mouth!”

Without even thinking twice, Katsuki swings his fist at you, detonating an explosion at the very same time. Of course, using Quirks inside the classroom is absolutely not permitted, but right now, he’s too furious to even care.

He wants to punch that stupid, pretentious face of yours. He wants to put you in your place and prove exactly how much better he is than you.

But it looks like today just isn’t Katsuki’s day, because not only do you manage to sidestep him, demonstrating impressive reflexes, but the teacher chooses to walk into the classroom at that exact moment.

“Bakugou!” she cries out. “What in the world are you doing?!”

He’s in trouble now. He’s in big, big trouble.

And you must realize it too, since all of a sudden, you’re giggling.

“Haha,” you muse. “You did something dumb, and now the teacher’s angry with you.”

Katsuki slams his little fist against one of the desks, just barely suppressing the urge to scream. He knew he had a bad feeling about you from the first moment you met. He knew you were bound to be nothing but a giant pain in his ass.

There’s no doubt about it anymore.

Katsuki fucking despises you.

“You can’t attack your classmates,” the teacher chides. She grabs him and pulls him away from you, then crosses her arms in frustration. “I’m going to let you off with a warning today, but if I ever see you using your Quirk or trying to hurt someone again, next time, I’ll be telling your parents. Am I understood?”

Katsuki grits his teeth. He can see you out of the corner of his eye, and sure enough, you’ve still got that shit-eating grin on your face. A loser like you is actually laughing at someone like him.

No way in hell will he let you get away with this.

Katsuki isn’t sure how, and he’s not even sure when, but one day, he’s going to make you pay for humiliating him.

It’s only your first day at school, but so far, you’ve been having a blast.

The highlight of the day was obviously finding out that Izuku was in the same class as you. Naturally, you intend to make as many friends as possible, but you already liked Izuku, so this is the best turn-out imaginable. It doesn’t look like Shinsou is in this class, which is a bit of a bummer, but maybe one day you’ll get to meet him again too.

Anyways, school is fun. The teacher even specially pulled you to the front of the class, so that you could introduce yourself to everyone.

“I’m [Name],” you smile. “And this is my first time in school, so I’m really excited to be here!”

“Were you homeschooled until now?” one of the kids asks.

“Homeschooled...? What’s that?”

You don’t understand the question, but rather than allowing you to try and clarify, the teacher hastily cuts in.

“That’s right,” she says, straining a smile. “[Name] hasn’t been in school before, so it’s up to us to make sure that she feels comfortable and welcome, okay?”

The students hum in agreement, and thankfully, a bunch of six-year-olds aren’t too concerned with the details of your past, so they gloss over the issue with ease.

Of course, you don’t realize that the teacher was trying to save you just then. She’s been informed that you come from a traumatic background, and she’s doing everything in her power to make sure the other kids don’t say anything that might trigger you or come across as insensitive.

But unfortunately, what the teacher believes are memory gaps due to trauma, are in fact gaps in your knowledge that have yet to be filled in.

Which makes for several awkward instances that day.

“Okay, who wants to try reading the passage I’ve written on the board?” the teacher asks. She consciously avoids calling on you, but because you don’t know any better, you grin and volunteer yourself for the job.

“Me!” you beam. “I can do it!”

“Huh? O-Oh. Thank you for offering, [Name]. Go right ahead,” she encourages.

You just vaguely register Katsuki letting out a derisive snort, but you disregard it and direct all your attention to the blackboard.

It only takes a few moments for your brows to furrow.

“Um, actually, never mind,” you say. “I can’t really understand what you wrote.”

You sit back down like nothing ever happened, meanwhile, some of your classmates are either giggling or gossiping amongst themselves. But since you’re too naïve to realize that they’re making fun of you, you just smile and fold your hands together, happily swinging your legs underneath your desk.

The teacher hurries to clear her throat. “Th-That’s perfectly fine. Taking the initiative and challenging yourself is always a good thing. Um, so then... is there anyone else who’d like to try reading this passage?”

“I’ll do it.”

Katsuki proceeds to stand up, grinning rather smugly for some reason. You’re not particularly interested in him, but Aizawa and Present Mic did say that you’re here to learn things, so if he knows the right answer, you should probably pay attention.

To no one’s surprise, Katsuki reads the passage flawlessly. He’s the best student in the class, despite how much of a little asshole he is.

So, even rude guys like him know all kinds of things. I’d better do my best to learn more and make Aizawa and Mic proud.

Dr. Garaki planned for you to be a soldier. His personal little puppet. Needless to say, when he focused on developing your language comprehension, he primarily intended for you to be able to understand his orders and carry them out without questioning anything. He certainly didn’t expect you to be sitting in a classroom, equipped with a pencil and paper.

But that’s fine. You’re a bit behind the other kids right now, and that can’t be helped, but so long as you have the willingness to learn and improve, you have no doubt that you’ll catch up with them.

You will take fate into your own hands, rather than being used to fulfill someone else’s twisted ambitions.

Anyways, despite messing up in front of the whole class, you have yet to experience what it means to be embarrassed, so you carry on without being fazed in the slightest.

Soon enough, lunch rolls around.

“Izuku! Do you want to eat together?”

You grin as you walk up to his desk, and as always, he blushes at the sight of you approaching him so cheerfully.

“S-Sure,” he mumbles shyly. “If you really don’t mind...”

“Why would I mind? Being with you is so fun! Oh, and we can compare lunches too! Look, Aizawa packed me mini burgers,” you say, opening up your lunchbox and proudly displaying the contents within. “Hehe. I love burgers.”

“Aizawa?” Izuku blinks. “Isn’t that your last name? Earlier, the teacher wrote your full name on the board, and it said ‘Aizawa [Name]’. Do you call your parents by their last name for some reason?”

You frown at that. Come to think of it, Aizawa did mention that he enrolled you in this school using his last name, since he’s your legal guardian or whatever. You suppose that means you finally have a last name, like everyone else. But you've called him Aizawa for so long that it feels kind of weird to change it all of a sudden.

“Aizawa is just Aizawa,” you shrug. “He’s a nice man who takes care of me.”

“So, he’s your dad?”

“Dad? Hm... I guess kind of. Him and Mic are kind of like dads.”

Izuku furrows his brows, desperately trying to keep up. But he probably realizes that there’s a reason why you can’t give him a straight answer, and besides, all families are different, so he’s hardly one to judge.

“Anyways, what do you have for lunch?” you ask excitedly.

“Huh? Oh. My mom packed me katsudon,” Izuku smiles. Just like you did moments prior, he opens his lunchbox to show off what’s inside. “Katsudon is my favorite, so whenever I get to eat this for lunch, I’m always super happy!”

“I feel the same about burgers,” you nod solemnly. “If I could eat burgers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I would. But Aizawa keeps saying I need variety or whatever. I don’t really get it, if I’m being honest...”

Izuku giggles. “Well, if you ate burgers all the time, then it probably wouldn’t be your favorite food anymore, right? You’d probably get sick of it at some point.”

“No,” you reply confidently. “I will never get sick of burgers.”

“Wow. You must really like them! Probably even more than I like katsudon!”

Since you’re incredibly generous (and also a bit curious), you offer Izuku some of your burgers in exchange for having a taste of his katsudon. He accepts, and while his food tastes delicious too, it only affirms what you already knew to be true.

Nothing will ever compare to a good-ass burger.

This of course stems from the fact that it was the first food you ever had. The very first thing you ever tasted since you became a conscious, living being. The taste is comforting to you, even if you don’t realize it, and it’s food that feeds your soul, not just your belly.

But either way, burgers are delicious, and that alone is plenty reason for you to keep eating them.

Lunch is a lot of fun, since you get to spend it chatting with Izuku. The two of you have a great time, and Izuku especially, because up until you came along, he either spent his lunches eating alone, or being teased by Katsuki and his groupies.

Speaking of a certain blond piece of shit, his lunch is going horribly, despite the fact that his mom packed his favorite spicy curry.

He can hardly stand the sight of you and Izuku, giggling stupidly, without so much as a care in the world. You really aren’t all there in the head if you’re choosing to hang out with that lame nerd. And you can’t even read properly, which further reinforces that you’re an idiot.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?” one of the boys asks him. “You keep looking at [Name]. Are you still upset because she forgot your name?”

Katsuki’s face instantly reddens. “She did not forget my name,” he counters. “She was just pretending like she forgot my name. There's a difference. And why should I care about a stupid girl like her who doesn’t even know how to read?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” the boy acknowledges. “There’s no way someone would forget your name, Katsuki. Maybe she’s just shy. She might have a crush on you.”

“Ew. I’m not interested in girls and their cooties. Especially not the extra stupid ones.”

Katsuki shoves a spoonful of curry into his mouth and spares another quick glance at you. Then again, a crush is actually quite plausible. Everyone’s always praising him for how cool he is, and girls are no exception. It would certainly explain why you’re behaving so strangely, completely unlike anyone he’s ever met before.

Katsuki’s lips curl into a smug grin. A crush, huh? Yeah, that has to be what’s going on here. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s been fixating on you for so long, at least, not until you finally turn his way and knit your brows together.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” you frown. “It’s annoying, so please stop.”

You turn back around and resume happily chatting with Izuku. Meanwhile, Katsuki’s spoon drops onto his desk, and for a solid minute, he sits there with his mouth gaping wide open in disbelief.

He seriously despises you to no fucking end.

A bell chimes, and just like that, your first day of school is officially over.

It was a lot of fun. Hanging out with Izuku was unarguably the best part, and even though you’ve discovered you need to polish up on your reading and writing skills, you’re not discouraged in the slightest. You’re sure that Aizawa and Present Mic can teach you more stuff at home. With their help, you’ll be an A+ student in no time.

“Aizawa! Mic!”

You rush out of the building, and just as promised, they’re both there waiting for you.

“Kiddo!” Present Mic grins. He opens up his arms so that you can run right into them, and without wasting a beat, he picks you up and twirls you around. You giggle at the sensation of your tiny feet being lifted off the ground.

Aizawa watches the exchange with a smile. “You look like you’re in a good mood. I’m guessing you had a fun time?”

“Yep!” you beam. “Oh, and best of all, I ran into a really nice boy who’s in my class! I think we’re going to be really good friends!”

Right on cue, Izuku appears behind you, walking next to a pretty woman who you can only assume is his mother.

“That’s him,” you say, pointing excitedly. “Izuku, look! This is Aizawa, and that’s Mic, who was with me at the playground! They’re the two nice people that take care of me.”

At first, Izuku is a bit bashful, and hides behind his mother’s arm. But as the seconds pass, and he stares at the two men’s faces more and more, a look of realization settles across his face.

“N-No way!” he exclaims, running up to you. “Are you the Voice Hero, Present Mic?! I didn’t realize it last time, but now that I’ve looked more closely, and the name Mic... it has to be you, right?”

“Hm? Ah.” Present Mic chuckles a few times. “Here I am, out of costume and in casual clothes, but you still recognized me, huh? I guess I do have pretty distinct features. Man, sometimes it’s tough being this handsome.”

“No, I think it’s just that your stupid expression is a dead giveaway,” Aizawa remarks.

“What?! Take that back right now!”

“I only speak the truth.”

“Curse you, Aizawa!”

The two are bickering like always, and it makes you giggle. Even though you’re a kid, you can still tell that it’s all in good fun. They get along great, and they care about each other. That much is obvious.

Izuku clenches his fists, eyes glossy and wide. “U-Um, if you don’t mind... would it be alright if I got your autograph? It’s just that you’re a really cool hero, and I love heroes, so...”

His voice tapers off near the end, and he bows his head, visibly flustered. It’s clear that he’s kind of starstruck and doesn’t quite know what to do.

Thankfully, Present Mic isn’t the type to leave a fan hanging.

“One autograph coming right up,” he grins, pulling out a pen (which he keeps on his person for this exact reason). Izuku lets out a squeal of delight, promptly digs into his backpack to grab one of his notebooks, and Present Mic proceeds to write a lengthy and personalized message.

When he’s done, Izuku stares at his new autograph in awe, and you can tell that he won’t be forgetting this meeting anytime soon.

“Say thank you to the nice hero, Izuku,” his mother, Inko, prods.

“Huh? O-Oh, right! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

The little boy bows his head over and over again, and you can’t help but feel like he’s being needlessly polite, especially since Present Mic is as laidback as they come, but you suppose it just goes to show how happy he is.

Izuku really likes heroes, it seems. And as fate would have it, you’re being raised by not one, but two of them.

Nobody can fault you for wanting to brag a little.

“Aizawa is a hero too,” you proudly declare. You expected Izuku to lose his mind again, and granted, he does get a bit more excited, but after a few seconds, his brows pull into a frown.

“S-Sorry,” he stammers. “I’m usually so good at recognizing heroes, but I’m kind of having a bit of a hard time with him...”

“Haha!” Present Mic laughs. “Suck it, Aizawa! You’ll never measure up to me in terms of popularity! Or looks, for that matter!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes. “You know that I deliberately avoid making public appearances. Unlike you, I don’t waste my time worrying about trivial matters like that.” He looks back towards Izuku. “It’s okay if you don’t recognize me, kid. I keep my hero work on the downlow. But thank you for supporting this loud idiot, even if he doesn’t have much to offer.”

“Hey!” Present Mic protests. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Aizawa ignores him, then offers you his hand. “Anyways, time to go home, [Name]. You can tell us all about how your first day went when we get back.”

“Okie-dokie! Bye-bye, Izuku!” You start to wave goodbye to your friend, but at the last second, you have a sudden thought, and you briefly pull away from Aizawa to whisper in Izuku’s ear. “Eraserhead,” you mumble. “That’s Aizawa’s hero name, just in case you were wondering. Don’t worry. If you want his autograph, I can get it for you another time.”

His green eyes go unspeakably wide, so sure enough, he has heard of Aizawa.

For some reason, it makes you feel awfully proud.

“B-Bye, [Name]!” Izuku waves. He’s so excited he’s practically bouncing in place, no doubt looking forward to the autograph you promised him. Unlike Present Mic, Aizawa isn’t usually too keen on interacting with fans, but you’re positive that with a bit of time, you’ll be able to convince him.

Aizawa frowns when you link back up with him. “What were you whispering about?”

“It’s a secret,” you hum.

“Oh? Already keeping secrets, I see. Your classmates must be a bad influence on you,” he muses.

“Nuh-uh! Everyone seems really nice so far. Oh,” you blink, realizing something. “I guess there is one guy that might be a bit of a bad influence. But don’t worry, I’m staying away from him.”

“What?” Present Mic frowns. “Is there a problem child in your class?”

“I guess you could call him that. Mic, remember the blond kid that was trying to make people climb that tree? That's him.”

Present Mic lets out a loud, obnoxious gasp. “Great heavens above. Aizawa, this is serious. There’s a demon in [Name]’s class.”

“I’m sure you’re just exaggerating,” Aizawa sighs. Still, you can feel his grip on your hand instinctively get tighter. “But like I said before, there’s always going to be people that try to pressure others into doing bad things, so don’t be swayed by him. Always make the smart, safe choice.”

You nod in agreement. “Don’t worry. I won’t get hurt because of him anymore. He tried punching me today in class, but I evaded him, and then he got in trouble with the teacher. It was kind of funny.”

In your mind, it was just a casual, thoughtless remark. You’re unharmed, after all, and since no limbs were broken in the process, you figured it was no big deal.

But in light of the information you’ve just divulged, Aizawa and Present Mic find their expressions turning to horror.

They proceed to lock eyes, and in that moment, it’s clear that they’re both thinking the same thing.

“What’s that little brat’s name?” they both glower. “We’d like to have a word with him.”

You purse your lips. They seem awfully serious all of a sudden, although you can’t understand why, because you got out of that situation safe and sound. Clearly, you have yet to realize just how overprotective your ‘dads’ can be.

“His name,” Aizawa insists. “Trying to hurt someone is absolutely unacceptable. We need to take this up with the kid’s parents. In fact, I’m surprised the teacher didn’t tell us. She must have been trying to give the boy a second chance, but it’s still inexcusable.”

“He’s already gotten a second chance,” Present Mic grimaces. “Back at the playground, I already caught him trying to hit [Name] once. It looks like he’s a repeat offender, and bullies like that need to be dealt with right away.”

They’re becoming more heated by the second, and again, it’s strange, because as far as you’re concerned, your first day of school went splendidly.

But you suppose you should tell them what they want to know, since they seem so worked up about it.

“His name,” you start, furrowing your brows, “his name is, um... his name...”

Ah.

“Darn. Looks like I’ve forgotten it again.”

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[jasperhaleobsessed]

Finding out Alec Volturi is your mate part 2

Alec Volturi x F!Swan!Reader

To say the least you were worried. After leaving the Volterra you couldn't stop shaking. That look on Aro's face made your stomach sick. All you wanted was for things to go back to normal.

You laid in your bed with your hands in your hair. Stressing wasn't going to help and yet you felt anxious.

You tried to distract yourself by reading. It wasn't guaranteed to calm you but you hoped it would help anyways. You got up and went over to your Bookshelf and picked out Pride and Prejudice. You were in a dire of something happy and predictable.

You laid in your bed, trying to get comfortable and you snuggled with your stuff animals for some comfort. You read the first sentence, "is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a wife." Ah, yes Elizabeth and Darcy, you always liked this story. You'd read the book before and seen the many iterations & adaptions. You were a hopeless romantic, you couldn't help but love this story.

You took a deep breath and continued to read before you knew it you had finished the first chapter. You flipped to the next page and read, "Bennett was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley." You smiled to yourself as you felt a cold breeze around you. You sat down your book and placed your bookmark in. You sat your book to the side and went over to grab your warm sweater.

You felt a shiver go through your spine as you wrapped your sweater close to your body like a warm hug. You looked to your left and noticed the window was open. Weird. You thought you closed it before you left, perhaps your Dad opened it for some fresh air. The house did tend to get a bit stuffy now and then.

You went over to close it and snuggled down in your bed with your nose in a book. But, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. You got up again to look around.

You looked around your room. Nothing. "Just paranoid Y/N, take a deep breath." You tried to even your breathing and turned around towards your bed. You gasped at what you saw. Standing there was Alec. Before you could scream Alec covered your mouth and whispered, "Please don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to move my hand but do you promise to stay calm?"

When he moved his hand, you could help but ask, "What are you doing here? How? When?" You whispered. You tried to keep it down in case Charlie or Bella heard you. Bella wasn't exactly ecstatic about the while 'mate' thing whatever that meant. Nothing made any sense and you wished you had some answers. You could probably guess what it meant but everything that was happening overwhelming and confusing all you wanted was something stable, something normal, something safe.

You were starting to think going to Italy with Bella and Alice was a bad idea. You wanted to make sure Bella was safe and that she would be okay. As much as you were annoyed with certain aspects of Bella and Edwards relationship, he made her happy and lively. And it was hard seeing her so broken and you felt helpless seeing her like that. Which is why you went to make sure they made it out okay. The reason you went wasn't a bad idea, you knew that but that didn't change the fear you felt over everything.

He had a gentle smile playing on his lips and placed his index finger over your lip trying to calm your worry, "Shhh, it's okay love, I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I promise." He moved his finger away and placed his hands to his back. He seemed to do this out of respect for you, he understood you were confused and wanted answers therefore he did not want to make you more uncomfortable. He must have realized he should have thought of a better tactic than sneaking into room. That doesn't exactly scream 'I'm not gonna hurt you'

"I just wanted to see you, get to know you. And help you understand all of this. I'm sure your confused and scared but you have nothing to fear, I'd never hurt you."

"How do I know you won't? Your a vampire who feeds of human blood. Innocent people who've done nothing to you or anyone and yet they end up dead. And you say won't hurt me?" You argued.

"Because your my mate," He stated.

"What does that even mean?" You asked.

"It means that we're meant to be together. I know this is confusing but please, trust me."

"Ya think?" You looked away and let out a breath, "Bella's gonna kill me for this. I want to trust you, I do. Part of me wants to and is telling me I should but the other part of me can't."

He cupped your face, "Please," He pleaded with you.

"You know why I can't. We've just met, can't you understand why I can't?"

"I can, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to. I can understand why you don't, this is all new for you. Not only what happened in Italy but you've only recently found out about vampires, right?"

"Yes."

"I know your scared and I know you don't trust me but to trust me you have to let me in. Please give me a chance."

"Y/N dinner!" Charlie called for you. You turned away and yelled, "Coming Dad!" You turned back and he was gone. You sighed, "How am I supposed to trust someone who disappears?" You groaned, unsure of what the future held. But you knew one thing was for sure I'd either be really good or really bad.

Part 1

A/N: I think I'm gonna do a part 3, if anyone has any ideas of what I should do let me know! Feel free to spam my inbox if you have to I'm always interested in hearing your ideas. Not gonna lie I need help figuring out what I'm gonna do or how I'm gonna do it. Any advice please send it my way! Sorry, for taking forever for the 3rd part, I was meaning to but I was busy with asks when I posted the 1st part. I mean I still am but I really wanted to try to write a 2nd part. Also, this will be posted before the Jasper fic I'm working on since I posted the poll for this first. Requests are open so as always send it my way! Hope you all enjoy! <3

[princessofghosts-posts]

Can we all talk about when Percy in Tartarus almost choked Akhlys on her own poison? Like,I know that Annabeth got scared of it and what he was doing and becoming in the moment,because that wasn't Percy at all,but the "some things must not be controlled" is totally bullshit. Every child of the Big 3 control an aspect of a calamity that shouldn't be controlled: lightning,sea,earth,air and death (Nico is the equivalent of Jesus and Satan both in PJO if we think enough about it). Being able to control dangerous things that "shouldn't being controlled" is literally in their divine blood.

The guy was trying to save both of them. He did give in to the darkness,but he was so tired of it,it's ok to snap when you are put under so much pressure from everybody you know. And yes,I get Annabeth's POV of it,but Percy was doing everything to survive there,he was risking no matter what,you don't need to make him feel bad about wanting to survive in hell. You needs to adapt sometimes,especially when the situation is so extreme,not everything is black and white,there is a lot of grey too.

Percy's power evolved because of the needs to protect himself and Annabeth in there,mixed with the high level of stress while trying to remain sane,and the worries about making it back or not. That whole speech was uncalled for (like most things that Annabeth did in Tartarus) and she could have handled better the situation no matter how scared she was. Look at Reyna,she is extremely scared of ghosts because of her past but didn't want to make Nico aware of that,and consoled him after he killed Bryce without a second thought. Was she scared? Yes. Did she made Nico feel guilty about protecting them and using his powers to do so? No,she was greatful to him and understood that he needed to,if they wanted to come back to a successful quest. That's exactly how Annabeth should had reacted to Percy and Akhlys.

And let's be honest,Nico and Percy should had a conversation about what they went through in there,especially because their powers evolved and are stronger than before,at the end of BoO. If not alone then with Dionysus as a therapist because they both need it after that hell. Nico would have a crash out hearing about that speech (since his powers go against the law of nature itself) and would make Percy understand that there is nothing wrong with what he did.

Percy is a survivor. He was surviving in Tartarus and sometimes surviving requires doing bad things and it doesn't matter if in the long run,those same bad things take you out of dangerous situations. He survived. That's the important. Also,poison is still a liquid,so no matter how strange is,Percy can still control it because his power can and it's completely normal for him to do so.

I'm honestly disappointed in Annabeth for this,especially when part of what she said influenced Percy so bad that decided to not fight Polybotes's poison and die in his father's domain. And other than the talk he had with Jason after it,it's never mentioned again and he and Annabeth don't talk abou it. Which isn't ok.

The fandom forget about it all the time when it cames to their dynamic,but yes guys,Annabeth almost killed Percy with her reasoning,let's address it more often ok? Everyone who think what she said didn't contribute to his actions is dead wrong,they were almost co-dipended in everything during HoO and Percy was already doubting his powers before Tartarus: he already was scared of them and scared of drowning. Annabeth made it only worse for him. And it's never addressed,as if it never had consequences.

A talk with Nico would have helped him understanding that yes,it's normal what he did and he has a right to it,since poison is still a liquid: that's a part of his power,like raising the dead is to Nico,no metter how strange or "ugly" it is. He was surviving,he needed to use everything he could use to make it back alive,and he did. And if it's coming from the guy who's powers literally proves Annabeth's "you can't control some things" is stupid and wrong,especially when it cames to Big 3 children,then it has more effect.

But we never got to have that too.

Justice for Percy,he deserve better than this.

[converzhigh]

You can be my dad

John Price x Male! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2172

The man shot awake from his sleep and looked around the room with fear in his eyes. Everything was dark. He couldn't make out any figure in between the four walls. Only sorce of light was the window facing the woods behind base.

He stood up, the pale moonlight showing him his way to the door as he walked out of his room quietly inside the darkness. The hallway was cold, much colder than anyone would have expected it to be during a summer night.

He counted the doors until he found the one he was willing to get to. Captain Price's room. He pulled out his hand to knock but realized that the door was already slightly open. With a little hesitation, he pushed the door open and walked into the room.

He looked around. It was his first time being into Price's room. It pretty much smelled like him. Cheap cologne and cigarettes. Somehow, it gave the young soldier a feeling of comfort.

The room was tidied. Everything was in perfect place, and the bed was made?

"Captain?"

The man called out with a whisper before stopping and waiting for an answer. He walked to the small door that led to the room's private bathroom and put his ear in it to try and listen if someone was in there. Silence was all he heard.

He sight and turned around in order to go back to his room only to be faced with Captain Price himself with a towel in hand and his hair wet.

"Do you need anything, young man?"

Price spoke in a much softer tone than his usual. His voice alone was just enough to make the boy feel sleepy again.

"No, it's just that..."

Y/n started to speak as he fidgeted with his fingers and the bottom of his shirt. To Price's eyes, he pretty much looked like a child going to their parent's room to tell them they threw up in the middle of the night.

Price wouldn't mind hearing whatever excuse the boy had to tell him for being in his room at that hour. He had told his soldiers, especially the new commers and younger ones, that they could come to speak to him about anything bothering them.

To him, they were all family. They were all he had left. And that was what family did. They helped each other.

"I had a–"

The younger soldier started speaking before getting cut off by his captain pulling him in a hug. The man froze for a few seconds before relaxing into Price's embrace and closing his eyes, taking in his scent.

"It is okay, little one. We all have bad dreams sometimes. You can sleep here if you would like."

The soldier felt tears in his eyes at the nickname that Price gave him. Somehow, the older male always had the ability to touch his heart with simple words. He knew exactly what the reason was, but he felt so ashamed of it that he would not even admit it to himself.

He pulled away and looked down at his feet. He couldn't bring himself to look up at his captain's eyes because he knew it would make tears fall down his. He was not ready to show a vulnerable side of him to someone in the fucking military.

He knew from the start that things there would not be easy and that he would have to go along with the overwhelming environment of knowing that your life is in danger every time you wake. But he had nothing more.

Just like Price. He was alone in that world. He had no family other than his father, whom he had chosen to keep in a distance. He had no friends since he was always considered quite a jerk and a weird kid in school. He was not really successful in the romantic part of life, too.

He felt like a huge looser sometimes just thinking of what his life was before. The military was totally a much better place than the one he stood at a few months ago before joining special forces. At least here, he had something to fight for.

He had made friends who were really cool and surprisingly could relate to some of the things he had been through. He had a routine and a goal. And he knew that after every mission, he would come back in base and be waited by Soap, who would tell him how good he did and would spend the whole afternoon together celebrating their victory.

He had to admit this one. The military had saved him. In a way that nothing else had ever done in his life. He was glad he had taken the decision to join. Now, he had a purpose in life. Something to wake up and try for.

"We could watch a movie if you would like. It's just something small to make you forget about that night terror. You can choose what to watch."

Price suggested, making Y/n get back in reality and leave his thoughts behind. The soldier just nodded and started walking with Price, who had offered him his hand. The younger man looked at it before grabbing a hold of his pinky finger.

For no specific reason, but every time he was offered a hand by someone, he felt the need to hold their pinky finger. It had him feel more safe, if he was being honest.

He looked up at his captain right at the moment his hands made contact with his skin. He did not seem to mind one bit. His attention turned back to their hands. Price's hands were big. Bigger that his. Not much, but the difference could be visible.

The hold he had on Price brought back memories of his. Specifically, he remembered once when he was young, maybe eleven years old, he was out with his father in a very crowded place. He did not feel safe but did feel really uneasy between all those strangers. He remembered reaching for his father's hand to hold before having his slapped away and receiving a dirty look from his father.

The words he was told that day would forever stay in his memory. 'Do not go around touching me as if we were the best father and son duo. I did not want you in this world, and I still do not. If law was not pushing me to take care of you, I wouldn't be doing it.' Was exactly what his father said.

And it was a lie. His father never took care of him. Yes, he did bring him food on the table or kept him safe when it came to bullies trying to beat him up, but was never there in any other moment. The young man believed that those limited moments his father was a father were the ones making him still love him. He was his father, after all. He was a part of him.

As the soldier was, once again, lost in thoughts, Price had led them to a room that could be described as the living room of the base. It had a sofa and a TV in it. It was not much, but it was comfy enough for a military base.

Price walked to the sofa and sat down as Y/n picked a movie and put the DVD in the DVD player device that was placed in a selve next to where the TV was located. He pressed start and went to sit next to his captain, who had already gotten a blanket that was previously folded in the corner of the sofa.

Price patted the space next to him for the man to sit as the intro song of the movie started playing. The soldier took the offer, sneaking up close to his superior and getting comfortable under the blanket before turning to the screen.

A few moments later, he felt a hand being placed around his shoulder in a kind of protective way. He looked at it with a small sparkle in his eyes that the man to whom the arm belonged to noticed.

"You can lean in me if you would like. I have no problem."

Spoke Price without taking his eyes off the screen, but the man next to him could see his smile. It made him feel comfortable enough to tilt his head until it made contact with Price's chest.

The younger man put his legs on the sofa and laid his head on his captain's chest as Price's hand moved from his shoulder to his side, but Y/n did not mind it. He was too comfortable at that position to make any comment.

His gaze turned back to the screen, but his focus was still on Price. He was looking up at that man since he hand joined, and he was a little scared of his at first. But, just like he did with Ghost, who was to him ten times scarier, after a little bit of a conversation with him, he came to realize that they might look intimidating, but they were human deep down. And, even if some people do not want it to be admitted, all humans have a soft side.

Some people just hide it better than others.

"Is there something you need?"

Price asked as he looked down at the man who, with realizing, had been staring up at him for a little while.

"No, sir. I was just admitting to myself how much I admire you and your job."

Those words of honesty had truly touched Price. He always viewed the young soldier a little more of just one of his men ever since he learned by Soap about his background story.

Don't get him wrong. He cared dearly for all of his men and viewed them as his brothers, but with this young man, something inside him had been awaken. He felt the same he did when his, long lost, wife told him that she was pregnant. It felt as if that father every man had inside had been awakened.

He felt the need to protect that soldier with everything he had. Just like he felt with some other of his men, meaning of Gaz and Soap since they were the youngest of the all, when they first fell under his orders.

The moment Price looked down at the man again, he heard light snoring and felt a tight grip on his shirt. He looked down and saw the smaller males fist clenched on the fabric of his shirt. He felt himself being in tears but shrugged it off when he heard the loud noise from the television.

He took the remote in hand and turned the device off before standing up with the young man in his arms. Y/n cuddled in his embrace and buried his face on his chest as the cold hit him once he left the blanket.

Price chuckled to himself at the small whimper and the tremble that spread on the man's body with the change of temperature as he started walking back to his room.

He pushed the door open and closed it soft behind him, trying to make no sounds loud enough to wake the man up. He walked to his bed and placed the boy in it before pulling the blanket on top of his body. He patted the blanket on his chest and, without realizing it, leaned down and placed a kiss on the man's forehead.

"Goodnight, little one. Sweet dreams."

Price whispered, and the response he was not expecting to get left him stunned.

"Goodnight, dad, I love you a lot."

The soldier mumbled as he turned to his side and started snoring once again. Price felt a small tear rub down his cheek at the word that had just felt his man's mouth.

He has had such a relationship with both Soap and Gaz before, but neither one of them have ever called him 'dad'. At that moment, he knew that this man was going to be his adopted child from now on.

"I love you too, son."

He said as he laid down next to the man and pulled him back on his chest, letting all his body warmth move to the smaller ones body.

That boy had just changed his life with a simple sleepy mumble.