#it’s like set dressing . he’s dazed and confused but he’s got the spirit

[matoitech]

i need to stop making ocs who r In A Band says guy who doesn’t know anything abt music and thinks band aus r boring for everything else. i like listening to music. but i’m having fun rn so i can just keep not knowing anything. it’s ocs

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 22

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 22 - This Venerable One's Shizun is Getting Angry

When Chu Wanning heard this, he was so angry that he could barely keep himself from retracting Tianwen and slashing the Chen couple. But he couldn't open his eyes to confront them. Once he opened his eyes, the barrier would be broken. The Return to Truth barrier could only trap a ghost once. If his interrogation was interrupted, he wouldn't be able to listen to any more of Luo Xianxian's story.

All he could do was contain his overwhelming rage and continue listening to Luo Xianxian.

After she died, her soul entered the underworld, unaware and confused.

The only thing that she could make out was a woman wearing red and green robes with facial features that resembled the Master of Ceremonies Ghost enshrined in a temple. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost stood in front of her and asked her in a soft voice: "You and Chen Bohuan couldn't share a bed in life. Would you like to share the same grave in death?"

She hurriedly agreed: "Yes. . . Yes please!"

"Then I can let him come join you right away. What do you think?"

Luo Xianxian wanted to blurt out a yes, rushing to agree, but suddenly remembered something and froze. "Am I dead?"

"Yes. I am the Master of the Underworld Ghost. I can give you the destiny you deserve and fulfill your long-cherished wish."

Luo Xianxian was startled: "Then, if he comes to join me, will he. . . also die?"

"Yes. However, if loves persists in the afterlife, life and death are irrelevant. What difference does it make?"

Chu Wanning heard this, he thought to himself that he had been right; this Master of Ceremonies Ghost would persuade others to make a wish so that she could reap the benefits. This immortal was truly diabolical.

Although Luo Xianxian died unjustly, she hadn't yet become a malevolent ghost, so she repeatedly shook his head: "No. It wasn't his fault. You can't kill him."

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost smiled compassionately: "And what did you get in return for this kindness?" It didn't force Luo Xianxian to do anything. As an immortal being, they could persuade someone to make a bad wish, but they couldn't force them. Its figure gradually faded away, its voice becoming hazier and hazier.

"Return to the world in seven days. During those seven days, go and see how the Chen family is faring. After that, I'll ask you again if you still have no regrets about your decision."

Seven days later, the day arrived.

Luo Xianxian's soul returned to a conscious form and returned to the world of the living.

Following the old road, she eagerly walked towards the Chen house to see her husband for the last time.

Unexpectedly, the Chen house was decorated with lights, and outside the courtyard, there were fireworks. Bridal flowers were decorating the halls. and a big "double happiness" banner was hanging in front of the main hall. Madam Chen was radiant, not appearing sickly in the slightest. She was smiling and instructing the servants to wrap the bouquets with red silk.

Who. . . was having a wedding?

Who. . . were the bride and groom?

Who. . . no one was engaged, what was going on?

Who. . .

She walked through the busy crowd, listening to the sound of people in the world of the living.

"Congratulations, Madam Chen. Your son is getting engaged to the daughter of the county magistrate. When's the wedding?"

"Madam Chen, you're so fortunate."

"Yao Qianjin is truly the lucky star of the Chen family and they aren't even official yet. Madam Chen, you look so much healthier already."

"Your son and Yao Qianjin are a match made in heaven. I'm so jealous, hahahaha."

Her son. . . Her son. . .

Which son?

Which one was marrying the daughter of the Yao family?

She shuttled back and forth across the familiar front yard, growing more and more frantic, looking for that familiar figure in the midst of all the laughter.

Then she found him.

In front of the peony flowers in the back hall, Chen Bohuan stood with his hands behind his back with a haggard face and sunken cheeks. However, he was dressed in red. Even though it wasn't a traditional wedding outfit, it was a Caidie Town custom. When a prospective son-in-law comes to propose marriage, he should wear this type of red gown.

Was he. . . going to propose. . .?

The decorations in the whole house, the strings of gold and silver beads, was it all. . . was it all from Chen Bohuan, her husband, as a dowry for the daughter of the Yao family?

She suddenly recalled the time when they got married.

There was nothing but two people that shared one heart - nothing else.

There was no master of ceremonies, no bridesmaids, and no dowry. The Chen family weren't wealthy at that time and didn't even own a decent set of jewelry. He went into the yard and picked a delicate orange blossom from under the orange tree they had planted together and carefully tucked it behind her ear.

She asked him: "Does it look good?"

He said it looked beautiful. After a moment of silence, he stroked her hair with some sadness and told her: "You deserve so much better than this."

Luo Xianxian smiled and pursed his lips, saying that it didn't matter.

Chen Bohuan told her that when he married her three years later, he would hold a lively wedding banquet. He would invite people from all over the world. He would have her make a grand entrance on a large sedan chair. He would give her gold and silver to wear, and the dowry gifts would fill the entire main hall.

Those vows still echoed in her ears. Now, all those promises have come true, the hall filled with gifts and guests.

He was getting married, just not to her.

A monstrous flame of anger and sorrow surged through her. Luo Xianxian screamed, trying to tear at the hanging red silk in the room.

But she was a ghost; she couldn't touch anything.

Chen Bohuan seemed to vaguely notice something. He turned around, staring at the silk moving despite there being no wind. His eyes were dull and hollow.

His little sister came over, a white jade hairpin clipped on the side of her bun. She didn't know who she was secretly mourning by wearing it.

She said: "Big brother, go to the kitchen to eat something. You haven't had a proper meal in days. You have to hurry up and go to the county magistrate's house later to propose. Your body won't hold up."

Chen Bohuan suddenly asked without thinking: "Sister, did you hear someone crying?"

". . . What? No, brother, I think you're still. . ." She gritted her teeth and didn't finish her thought. Chen Bohuan still stared at the fluttering silk sheets.

"How is my mother? Is she happy? Has her illness been cured?"

". . . Brother."

". . . I'm glad she's feeling better." Chen Bohuan stood there, muttering to himself. "I already lost Luo Xianxian, I couldn't live without my mother."

"Brother, go eat something. . ."

Luo Xianxian wailed. She yelled and bawled with her head in her hands.

Don't go. . . don't go. . . please don't go. . .

Chen Bohuan said: ". . . Alright."

The tired figure disappeared around the corner.

Luo Xianxian stood alone in a daze, large tears rolling down her face. Suddenly, she heard the brothers of the Chen family who killed her approaching. The second eldest brother and the younger brother were whispering to each other.

"Mother is finally happy. Finally, things are going our way."

"Right? She pretended to be sick for half and year. Now that that cursed bitch is gone, how could she not be thrilled?"

The younger brother tsked and said, "How come she died? We wanted to force her out, not kill her. Was she really so stupid that she couldn't even find someone to help her?"

"Who knows. She was weak, just like her rotten father. It's not our fault that she died. Even though mother pretended to be sick to get rid of her, our family has its own struggles. Think about it, when the options county magistrate’s daughter and some pauper girl, only a fool would choose the latter. Besides, even if Yao Qianjin is a brat, she's got enough money to go around."

"Yes, she's so dumb. She didn't want to live so she let herself freeze to death. No one could've saved her."

The words drifted to her ears.

After Luo Xianxian died, she finally understood the so-called "Divine Fate". She was completely broke and couldn't compare to the county magistrate's daughter who was so noble and honourable.

Only a fool would choose the pauper girl.

She finally snapped.

She returned to the Master of Ceremonies' temple full of hatred and resentment.

She died there. Unlike how weak and helpless she was when she died, she returned with overwhelming hostility.

She used to be such a kind person, but now, all the hatred and evil that had been built inside her while she was alive came flooding out. She roared, her eyes turning red, her soul trembling.

She said: "I, Luo Xianxian, would like to give up my soul and follow the path of wickedness. I only ask you to avenge me! I want the Chen family - I don't want you to kill them!!! I want. . . I want to let my beastly mother-in-law kill her sons by her own hand! All her sons!!! I want Chen Bohuan to go to hell with me!!! Let him be buried with me!!! Do it for me!!! I hate them! I hate them!!!!"

The eyes of the clay sculpture on the shrine shifted and the corners of its mouth slowly raised.

A hollow voice echoed through the temple.

"I have heard your prayers. It will be as you wish. As an evil spirit - kill all those that you resent -"

A piercing blood-red light flashed, and Luo Xianxian couldn't remember anything after that.

However, Chu Wanning already what happened next. After that, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost manipulated Luo Xianxian's spirit to possess Madam Chen and force her to kill each member of the Chen family.

The red coffin on the top of the mountain, the reason why Chen Bohuan was dug up, naturally, was because the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was fulfilling Luo Xianxian's greatest wish - "Let Chen Bohuan and I be buried together." Moreover, it deliberately placed the coffin on the property of Chen Bohuan and his new wife as an act of spiteful revenge.

As for the floral scent in Chen Bohuan's coffin, it was the scent of the butterfly fragrance powder that Luo Xianxian had worn before her death. The resentment and fragrance in the coffin were both extremely strong because Luo Xianxian's soul was resting alongside Chen Bohuan inside it.

Luo Xianxian had no family. According to the customs, if a person like that dies, their bones should be cremated instead of buried. Therefore, she had no physical body and could only be contained within the coffin by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. That's why, when Chu Wanning opened the coffin with his willow vine, Luo Xianxian had escaped the coffin's containment. Her soul flew away, and it was difficult to recapture. It was a situation of "a closed coffin being heavy with resentment but an open coffin being light".

But during the illusion, why did other people have dead bodies as their partners but Chen Bohuan only had a paper-mache ghost bride?

Chu Wanning thought for a moment and figured out this much:

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost didn't break its promise. The paper-mache bride was the "physical body" that it gave Luo Xianxian. It was a vessel so that Luo Xianxian could be buried with Chen Bohuan.

Everything was clear.

Chu Wanning looked at the weak and helpless girl in the barrier. He wanted to say something but didn't know what to say.

Elder Yuheng wasn't particularly good at comforting words. He couldn't think of anything, so he stayed silent, not having anything he could say.

The girl stood in the vast darkness with her soft round eyes open.

Chu Wanning looked at her eyes and couldn't bear it. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to take another look. He was about to open his eyes and leave the Return to Truth barrier.

Then the girl suddenly spoke.

"Lord Yama. I. . . I have something else I want to tell you."

Chu Wanning: ". . . Alright."

The girl suddenly lowered her head, covered her eyes, and cried. She said softly, "Lord Yama, I don't know what I did after that. But, I. . . I really didn't want to kill my husband. I didn't want to be an evil spirit. I really. . ."

"I didn't steal the oranges. I really am Chen Bohuan's wife. And I truly, truly didn't want to hurt anyone either."

"I truly didn't want anyone to get hurt. Please believe me."

Her voice choked and trembled, her words breaking.

"I. . . didn't lie. . ."

I didn't lie.

Why is it that, in this life, almost no one believed me?

She sobbed and screamed. Chu Wanning's voice sounded low in the darkness. He didn't say much, but he said it with conviction.

"Okay."

Luo Xianxian was shocked.

Chu Wanning said: "I believe you."

Luo Xianxian wiped her tears with her hands indiscriminately but couldn't hold them back. Hiding her tearful face, she lowered her head and bowed her head in his direction in the darkness.

Chu Wanning opened his eyes.

After he opened his eyes, he didn't say anything.

Time in the barrier wasn't the same as in reality. He had stayed there for a long time but, for the people waiting outside, it had only been a moment. Mo Ran hadn't returned yet. The few remaining people in the Chen family were still looking at him with bated breath.

Chu Wanning withdrew Tianwen and said to Madam Chen: "I'll avenge you. You can find peace."

Madam Chen froze and opened her blood-red eyes, and suddenly fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out cold.

Chu Wanning raised his head again. His eyes swept across Chen's face then landed on the youngest son. His voice didn't waver, and it was still frighteningly cold.

"I'll ask one last time." He said each word slowly and decisively. "Did you really not recognize whose voice that was?"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Bedtime Stories- Nanami x Reader Oneshot

Word Count: 3108 words

Prompt: “Now I just know this man would ask you to keep reading out loud while he quietly gave you head under the bedsheets.”

It was a relatively quiet day for you. Being a semi-grade 1 sorcerer and a teacher at Jujutsu Tech proved to have its rough patches; however, today was not one of those days. You were seated in the teacher's lounge, going over a lesson plan that you had prepared days earlier for the students when Gojo strolled into the small room. "I see you have plenty of time on your hands today, y/n," he smirked.

You rolled your eyes at him. "Ijichi didn't have any cases for me today, and the first years were supposed to be training with you, so I have a free day," you muttered. Suddenly you felt the urge to leave the room. You and Gojo have always irritated each other. However, Satoru had a little personal game to annoy the hell out of you with every chance he got.

As you looked away from his blindfolded eyes, you could practically feel his pathetic little smirk plastered on his lips. You tried to mind your business by reading a book that Nanami had lent you. No matter how much you tried, you could feel Satoru's eyes burning holes onto the back of your head in the uncomfortable silence. You cleared your throat and sharply turned your head to the looming buffoon. "I'm sorry. Is there something you need, Satoru?" You asked sweetly.

"Am I bothering you? I can leave… but now that you mention it, I think a cup of coffee sounds extraordinarily great right now," he grinned. He lazily walked over to the counter and loudly clinked a cup on the smooth surface. You gritted your teeth and focused your attention on the book about expelling special-grade curses.

After a few minutes of Gojo loudly bustling around the room, you roughly shot up out of your chair and swiftly exited the room. "Have a great rest of your day!" Gojo yelled over his shoulder. "Piss off," you muttered as you walked down the hallway. You knew he would hear you even as you walked down the hall, and as if on queue, you listened to his laugh echo the room.

As you made your way to the teacher's headquarters, you stopped to sit down at a nearby resting area. You exhaled a sigh of relief at the sense of peace and quiet that you had finally attained. You closed your eyes and breathed in the sweet summer air flowing around you. At times like these, you wished you were sitting in a comfortable home with no one to worry about except yourself.

Alas, that was not your current situation. Your students were your priority, and they felt almost like family; therefore, you were always nervous about them, mainly when it was Gojo's time to train them. Your mind began to wander, and you noticed the slight texture of your book in your hands. You lightly dragged your fingertips across the leathered book cover.

You and Nanami were reasonably close and more so as the summer days passed by. At this point, you considered each other as friends with benefits, although you both knew you were lying to yourselves. The sex was phenomenal, but you've always wanted something more than the title of 'just friends who fucked each other from time to time.'

Nobody was currently aware of the relationship that you two had. However, Gojo had his suspicions from time to time, making lewd comments when you and Nanami were near each other. You opened your eyes and shook your head to clear your thoughts. Enough fantasizing, you scolded yourself.

You walked silently to your bedroom, admiring the beautiful oranges and purples that began to blend into the evening sky. You slid open the doors to your room and quickly padded over to your large window. You carefully set Nanami's book onto your bedside table. Being a teacher here at Jujutsu Tech did have its benefits, as it had a great view of the city, you thought. You strolled around your room aimlessly before landing in the bathroom.

You disrobed your issued teacher's uniform and dressed into something much more comfortable, which consisted of a shirt three sizes too big for you and grey sweatpants- it was definitely a sweatpants kind of day for you. You jumped onto your bed and huffed as a wave of exhaustion suddenly overcame you. I need to get a grip on myself; I didn't even do anything today, you thought.

You tucked yourself into bed at 8:00 pm, book in hand. It was still early, yes, but there was nothing to do besides reading and lounge in the teacher's room, which was something you were not going to do again. As your eyes danced across the pages of the old book, you heard a slight knock echo into your room.

Your eyes scrunched in confusion. You hadn't expected any visitors tonight. As you opened the door, you looked up to see an even more exhausted Nanami.

A wave of surprise coursed through your body and heat began to pool between your legs. Were you going to have sex again? You wondered. Nanami looked down on you and cleared his throat. "Can I stay here for a bit? I'd rather not deal with reporting the exorcised curse to Satoru right now," he sighed.

You tried to hide your embarrassing disappointment by walking back into your bed." Sure go ahead, stay as long as you'd like." As he entered your room, he walked straight over to a small couch seated by the window.

You shifted uncomfortably in your bed and resumed reading. Like your earlier experience with Gojo, you could not focus on a single word when Nanami was so close to you (with supremely different emotions stirring up inside you).

Nevertheless, you stared at the textured pages, now studying a picture of the general makeup of a curse. You had finally gotten comfortable with Nanami in the same room as you when you heard his chair screech on the wooden floor.

Your eyes shot up to his. However, he paid no attention to you as he quietly sat down on your side of the bed. You shut your book and looked up at him with lustful eyes. You were hungry for him.

At this point, the sexual tension was practically drowning you two in the bedroom. "I…" Nanami began, but your colliding bodies soon cut it off.

You had had enough, you pulled Nanami into a passionate kiss, and a small moan escaped your lips. Nanami did not hesitate; instead, he held you to his body before pinning you down to the bed.

"A bit excited now, are we?" He rasped. You meekly nodded and said, "I need you." It seemed like that was all it took to convince the man pinning you as he quickly bent down to crash his lips onto yours.

Your tongues swirled together, and you pulled back, granting him full entrance to your mouth. As his tongue pushed through your lips, a moan had yet again escaped you. You felt your pool of arousal increase by the minute.

Nanami fumbled with your shirt, and you quickly ripped it off of yourself. Nanami had seen your body countless times before. However, it never ceased to amaze him how beautiful you were.

Suddenly cold with the loss of heat contact, you playfully pulled his tie towards you and wrapped your arms around his neck. Nanami seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, as a small' fuck,' escaped his lips before crashing onto yours.

You began un-knotting his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt, careful not to break your intimate contact. Nanami released his iron grip on your hands and trailed his fingers down your body, eliciting a moan from you.

Your core was throbbing with desire, and you felt the slick coating of wetness dampen your panties. Every time his fingers came into contact with your skin, you felt an energetic shock pulsate through your body.

In one quick movement, the blonde man ripped off your sweatpants, and you moaned from the sudden movement. "You’re being so good for me," Nanami muttered, a small huff escaped his mouth.

You un-clipped your bra and flung it out towards the room. Nanami wasted no time and plunged his face between your two mounds. You ground your pussy onto the folds of his pants, wanting nothing more than his face on your sopping wet cunt.

Nanami fondled one of your breasts with one hand and lapped up your other tit with his long tongue. You arched your back, wanting more contact and your heavy moans filled the room. As his tongue swirled over your nipple, he maintained eye contact with you.

The contact was almost enough to send you over the edge; however, you wanted to ride this out as long as possible, pun intended. You shut your eyes and leaned into your pillow, letting Nanami's intoxicating touch fill up your world. His fingers trailed long lines up and down the side of your body and finally rested on the waistband of your panties.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his handiwork and looked at you with a pang of hunger you've never seen before. You noticed him glance towards the book in the middle of the bed and then back to you. "Were you reading this before I got here?" He asked quietly. With a dazed expression, you simply nodded.

"Get under the covers," he instructed. Confused, you did as you were told and shrugged into the covers. What was he up to? You wondered. You watched him as he slowly unbuckled his belt and let it clink to the floor. Yet again, you felt another pang of pleasure throbbing in between your legs. He slowly walked over to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers.

You stared up at the ceiling in complete surprise. What the hell was this man doing? Was he seriously only here to edge me? Nanami shifted over to look at you and quietly said, "I want you to read that book for me." You tried to hide your displeasure. What the fuck? You thought. You were under the impression that he was here to fuck you, not read him a bedtime story.

You sighed and picked up the book, flipping through the pages to find where you last read. "I'm currently on chapter 23: 'Classifications of the Curse Spirit'," you muttered. He quietly nodded and looked up at the ceiling. You shook your head and began to read the starting lines.

"The vengeful cursed spirit is a cursed spirit that is created when humans become a curse after death…" you grumbled. You look at Nanami, who is still staring at the ceiling. You slump back into the bed. What the actual fuck. "...erm, Those whose deaths are cursed have the possibility of having their spirit corrupted…"

Your words soon trailed off as you heard Nanami shift and slipped under the covers. Your insides jolted as your mind raced about what he could be up to. "Keep reading," he commanded. Your grip tightened on the book; you felt your core become slick again. Fuck, whatever this man was going to do to you, you knew it was going to be good.

You focused your attention on the book, trying to ignore the rustling covers as Nanami settled in between your legs. "Okay let's see- sorcerers have an increased chance of turning into a curse after death, but this can be prevented through juju-" your words are quickly cut off as you feel a wave of intense pleasure.

In the meantime of your reading, Nanami had slipped under the covers to venture off in between your legs. He felt for your waistband and lightly tapped it with his fingers. Nanami could practically feel your heat rising out of you. Carefully, he moved his hand down and lightly brushed over your clit.

"I told you to keep reading, y/n," he cooed. You moaned and arched your back as he brushed on your clit again, making your insides tingle. "N-Nanami," you sputtered, the daze of a high already settling in. You lost your grip on the book and it fell onto the large mound that was Nanami’s head. “Are you okay?” you said, as you scrambled to pull off the covers. Nanami tightened his grip on your legs and said, “Stop moving, give me your hands.”

You stopped writhing and slowly slid your hands under the covers. A rough pair of hands connect with yours and you promptly feel fabric being tied around your small hands. You nervously laugh- it was his spotted tie. “Nanami, what are you doing to me,” you laughed. He ignored you and handed the book to you.

"Read, and don’t drop it," he forcefully commanded. You stopped laughing and began to resume your readings quietly, but you bucked your hips towards his face as you felt hot kisses trail up and down your thighs. "Ah- Fuck, Nanami. I can't read when you're doing this to me," you said breathlessly.

“Read as best as you can, then,” he replied gruffly. The pleasure was ten times more intense, as the feeling of your constraints and the constant contact of Nanami kept you on your toes. Your hands were practically clamped down on the book so that you couldn’t do anything about the man pleasuring your slick pussy.

After Nanami was satisfied with the trail of love bites in your inner thighs, he began to slowly rub circles on your clothed clit. You moaned out a sigh of relief as you felt more contact with his hands. “A- a diseased cursed spirit-” you began, but your words fell into a moan as you felt Nanami pull down your panties with his teeth. “Shit,” you breathed out.

As Nanami pulled down your panties, a wave of blood rushed towards his cock as he saw your thick coating of slick string out. “You’re so wet for me, y/n,” he said hungrily. You moaned again as his wonderfully deep voice rumbled against your cunt. “N-nanami- you’re going to make me-” you muffle your screams and bit down on his tie that constrained your hands.

His tongue lightly swept over your slit, licking up your sweet desire. He bent his head down and lapped you up hungrily, stifling a moan. The vibrations of his voice further made your toes curl, and you soon began repeatedly groaning his name. You hooked your legs over his shoulders and stifled a scream as you could feel your destination come closer.

The Intense pleasure was something you had never fully experienced. As Nanami lapped up your wet pussy you heard and felt him spit on your clit. Your breath was erratic, and as your breathing slowed down, you felt two rough fingers slide into you.

“Read,” Nanami once again commanded as he took another lap in your slit. You sighed as you lifted the book back to your eyes. “Plague and general sickness are concepts constantly cursed by humanity,” you began, your breath hitched at certain words as Nanami slowly pumped in and out of you.

Suddenly, Nanami began to speed up; he curled and spread his fingers as he was inside of you. With the sudden movement, you felt your walls begin to pulsate- you were almost there.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, your hips bucked and swayed, finding just the right spot. Nanami groaned against your clit as your slit felt slicker by the moment. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you heaved, your chest took shallow breaths, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You forced your eyes to open and with pleading eyes you asked Nanami if you could let yourself go.

It seemed like Nanami knew what you were asking for, despite his head still under the covers. “Cum for me, darling,” Nanami pitted against your pulsating heat of mess. Oh, how his words could make you unravel so quickly. You felt your heat burst and your teeth clamped on Nanami’s tie to muffle your screams. You closed your eyes and saw stars. You were fucked good.

As your high steadily came back down, Nanami shifted under the covers and came back up, his face full of your essence. His eyes were bright and alive, something you rarely saw. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about your slick on his face, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

As your breathing slowed, you pulled your hair away from your sweaty face. You turned your head to look at Nanami, your heart thumping out of your chest. “It’s only fair… that I repay you for your kindness,” you began, your hands trailing down his now crinkled dress shirt. He smiled and looked you up and down, “Sweetheart I don’t think you’re even able to get up and walk right now,” he laughed. “Besides, you can repay me later… not that I mind giving my services to you, free of charge,” he said quietly.

You smiled at him and brought the covers over your chest, your eyes feeling heavy with exhaustion. You heard Nanami leave the bed, but you were too tired to open your eyes. You must’ve fallen asleep as you felt darkness soon overtake you.

You felt a light tap on your chest and groggily looked up to see Nanami out of bed holding a hand out to you. “What are we doing now?” you asked tiredly. He kissed you on the head and laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, y/n. I know you’re tired, but we’ve got to clean you up,” he noted.

He led you to your bathroom, and as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights, you noticed that Nanami had drawn a bath for you. You looked back at him and chuckled. “Always the gentleman, Nanami.” He pecked you on the lips before carefully placing you inside the tub. Your muscles instantly relaxed from the hot, sudsy water. You smiled to yourself as you felt Nanami slip into the tub behind you.

You sighed with great content and leaned your head back on his chest. As you closed your eyes, you felt his hands skimming across your arms and legs, gently washing the previous activities that were stuck on your skin. You were in complete bliss. “Thank you, Nanami. For everything,” you gushed. “Anything for you, y/n,” he muttered.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that you decided to read before bed.

🌻

[sweetwritertanya]

Dressed Up For Halloween (Jungkook)

Summary: You have to work on Halloween and you go dressed as a character your boyfriend likes very much. You are not ready for how worked up he was once you got home.

Warnings: SMUT! There will be: erotic body touching, boob-job, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there!), doggy-style, aftercare.

Word Count: 3181

The idea came to you early in the month, when you were working at the coffee shop your boyfriend and his friends always like to come to, being close to their company and discreet enough that they could enter in small groups without being recognized instantly. There was still the one or another who recognized them, but always manageable. As you came with a bunch of drinks that they ordered to their table, you realized they were planning a movie marathon to get them in the Halloween spirit. And amongst all the movies the group discussed about seeing, Jungkook was very fixated on watching one in particular, saying the name over and over until they agreed it was on the list: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

You made a mental note of it, kissed him on the head, to which he scrunched up his nose as cheeks grew pinker, and went back to do your job.

A quick order online, a trip to the shop to buy some fishnet tights and a new pair of black heel boots, and your outfit for this Halloween was all set up. Not only would your boyfriend appreciate it, it was a good choice for you to wear to your work place, since your boss as asked the employees at the coffee to wear a costume on the 31st, as a way to please costumers.

Halloween came around rather quickly and, much to your frustration, Jungkook actually had half of the day off. He was currently on the living room, playing games in the big screen tv. And, of course, you had the evening shift at the coffee shop, thus you wouldn’t be able to stay with him.

So, here you were, in the bedroom, putting on the colorful dress with mismatched patterns, the fishnets tights and the boots, letting your hair down to resemble the character the best it could, some elongating mascara for your eyelashes and a deep red lipstick. Apart from the blueish skin and all the stitches, you actually resembled her quite nicely. If they ever saw the movie, everyone would certainly recognize who you were.

You get out of the bedroom and into the living room, your boyfriend currently with his back to you, headphones on and focused on the busy screen in front of him while you walked behind the couch in the direction of the door.

“I’m leaving, Kookie. See you later tonight, okay?” you say goodbye with a resented voice.

“Hum? Oh, okay, I-” Jungkook takes off his headphones that fall around his neck as he turns to look at you.

You almost miss his reaction while you grab the coat from the closet at the entrance. The way those round bright eyes enlarge so greatly you can see the full ebony iris, a hint of recognition and astonishment behind that sparkle, how his lips fall apart in the tiniest of openings, straight and thick eyebrows raising up in his forehead. His body sits frozen in the couch, only really reacting when he sees you putting on your coat with a shy smile on your lips.

“You, huh…!” he gets up in a jump, letting go of the controller in his hands and coming to stand in front of you, eyes roaming up and down your voluptuous figure. “You’re dressed up as Sally. You dressed up for Halloween.”

“Yeah” you respond, flattered by the way his eyes keep lingering at you in interest. “My boss told us to bring our best outfit to work on the coffee shop. So, I’m going as Sally.”

“It’s so pretty” he murmurs, almost in a daze until he looks back at your eyes and corrects himself. “You look so pretty, Y/N. As always.”

You giggle at his compliment and lean in to give him a long peck on those uneven lips, adoring their warmth of softness against your own.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll be back before eleven at night” you inform as you step backwards and turn to go out the door.

“What, wait!”

Jungkook stops you by getting a hold of your hand, keeping you from opening the main door and instead you stand back in front of him, with raised eyebrows in surprise and confusion. You recognize the look of disappointment in his eyes, a slight pout already taking over his larger lower lips in the cutest of ways.

“You need to go? Like… Like right now? I only just saw you in your costume.”

“Well, I told you I had to work today, Kookie. And, yeah, I’ll admit I chose this costume because I knew you would like it, but that was before I knew I had to work the late shift” you explain.

But he is not really keen on letting you go and it shows when he effortlessly pulls you close by your hand despite your hefty weight, attaching his hands to your waist and back while his face gets hidden at the crook of your neck. His breath hits your skin as he speaks, creating goosebumps before he kisses it.

“I don’t want you to go. I wanna be the Jack to your Sally” he whines.

As he kisses up your neck and across your soft jaw, you struggle to remain focused and responsible, when in reality all you wanted was to ditch your work and stay home with him.

“Baby, I can’t. I need to go now, but I’ll be back. Just wait for me, okay? I’m all yours then” you assure him, sneaking past his arms with heated cheeks and chills down your spine.

“Promise?” he sulks, albeit letting you go as you open the door.

“Promise.”

He would hold you up to that promise.

As soon as you came back through the front door, barely closing it behind you, he jumps out of nowhere to hold you tight against his muscular arms. You yelp at the abruptness of it all, your purse falling out of your hands as his arms wrap around you like bindweeds, his lips regaining their position across the skin of your jaw and neck as if they never left.

“How was your day?” he asks in a whisper between the kisses at your pulse point, as if it was just a normal conversation.

It takes you a few solid seconds for you to get a grip and process what was happening, realizing he asked you a question you had yet to answer.

“It… It was fine, I think. What… what’s happening?” your confusion is more than evident in your voice as you regain your balance by holding on to Jungkook’s delightedly strong arms.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you since you left” he confesses, leaning back just to stare at your face while his cheeks and earlobes glow red. You find it so puzzling, how he could just jump on you like that and then be this shy when actually looking at you. It made your heart flip. “How pretty you looked. How I wished you would’ve stayed. I couldn’t focus, I didn’t even play my game, I was letting my team down so I logged off.”

“It’s… It’s just a cute Sally outfit, Kookie” you say, blinking as you keep your gaze on his, large hands still holding you close by your lower back.

“It just suits you so well. A-And not just your body! Your personality as well. I never realized it until today. You are my own little Sally who treats me as if I was the center of your world and I never got to show how much I thank you for it.”

You bite your bottom lip and tilt your head at him, wondering how a Halloween outfit could remind him of this, of how much you adored him. But you weren’t about to stop him, for sure.

“Well” you shrug, with a warm smile. “Show me, then.”

He giggles and you chuckle back until the sound dies out just a moment before your lips meet, engaging in caresses that have you standing on your feet and tremors run down your back while you lean in to him. He holds you close and tight, his hands roaming your curvaceous body and brushing over every inch they could, from your rolls to your fluffy bits, squeezing and folding.

You are melting into his touch, heart jumping out of your chest, when his tongue flicks at your top lip, requesting your permission. You gladly give him entrance as you open your mouth and allow him access to every single crevice, tongue twinning with yours making your shudder. He tastes like a spicy nectar that sets your whole body on fire, effortlessly doing so and instigating breathless moans from you when his lips close around your tongue and he sucks on it.

You throw your head back in order to breathe and he attacks your neck instead. You don’t even realize it, but he has taken off your coat, leaving you in the costume’s dress, and is slowly guiding you to the couch. Once your bum hits the back of the couch, your hands grasp at the solid item while his hands found themselves just underneath your breasts.

“As much as I love this dress, can I take it off now?” he questions, one hand already travelling around your back searching for the zipper.

“Yes, please” you authorize, breathless.

He unzips the long zipper at your back while you kiss at his beautiful neck, feeling beneath your lips as he swallows and sighs heavily. Once he does it, he brushes the sleeves down your shoulders and arms, the fabric of the dress gathering at your wide stomach. You stand in order to pull it the rest of the way down and Jungkook takes advantage of your distraction to pull his hoodie off his body in an elegant move.

When you throw the dress away, standing now only in your fishnets and black matching underwear, you look back at him to find him shirtless, strong sculptured muscles on display and your fingers twitch and inner muscles of your belly contract at the sight. Subconsciously, you lick your lips while he takes in your feminine shape, the way your body looked so incredibly soft and warm and welcoming.

“I really love your body, so much” he confesses in a breathy whisper. “Especially these.”

Jungkook’s hands attach themselves to the malleable fat of your breasts, cupping them and watching his fingers sinking in to the flesh, adoring the way he could barely hold them in the palm of his hands. Your back arches into his touch without your control and he begins teasing at your puckered peaks, brushing his thumbs on top of them and tweaking them as if tunning an old radio. You moaned and squirmed, this unbelievable tension forming deep down inside.

With hooded eyes, you follow the lines of his abdominal muscles down with your digits, adoring their hardness that contrasted so much with your softness. Reaching the edge of the sweatpants he was wearing, you can’t help but notice the line of his manhood, growing ever more noticeable.

“Let… Let me try something for you, baby” you decide, having an idea.

Taking hold of his wrists and bringing them down, you grab his shoulders and make him spin so he is the one against the back of the couch now. Slowly, you kiss his neck and descend down his heated body, taking in every shaking breath and gasp as you went. Soon you are on your knees, facing the tent that had formed on his pants. Pulling the sweatpants and boxers down to his ankles at the same time, you are met with his engorged and pulsing dick, crown pink and throbbing the more you looked at it.

“W-What are you- Ohh!”

Jungkook’s question is answered even before he finishes it, as you take hold of your breasts yourself and place them on either side of his cock, pressing into him. With curious eyes, you look up at him, only the tip of his cock peaking through your cleavage. He is blushed and buggy-eyed, breathing through his parted lips.

“Feels good?” you ask.

“Y-Yeah. Very much” he assured you.

And so, you continue with this new technique, getting a hold of it as you study his reactions. He liked when you pressed your tits together, smothering his cock in between them, and started to move them up and down repeatedly. The tip that rarely got to disappear into your cleavage seemed left out, so you took it upon yourself to lick at the little crown and, when you felt his legs shudder at that, you even began to suck and take it into your mouth the best you could, tongue swirling around it.

“A-Ahh… Y-Y/N, come here!”

He pulls your body up smoothly by your arms, squishing you into him as he kisses you deep and passionately, tasting himself on your tongue. He swirls you two around and, once more, you are the one against the back of the couch.

“Let me return the favor” he murmurs against your bruised lips.

Falling to his knees, you squeal as he begins leaving deep kisses alongside your tick thighs, hands caressing the sides of them as his head made its way in between them, kissing up the inner part. His fingers hook around the fishnets and the panties you were still wearing, pulling them off swiftly when you lift your rump to help him do so.

His strong hands grab you by the knees and push them apart, revealing your needy core to him. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to delve his head in, mouth coming in contact with your folds and tongue delving in between them, flicking the drenching silky-smooth flesh. Your body jolts at that first touch and you cry out, one hand of yours clawing at the couch while the other grasps at the fluffy hair on top of head. He starts moving his tongue, up and down your slit, swirling it around your hole and you can’t help it, you are pushing him in, wanting more and more. Your pussy is clenching under the amount of unbelievable tension that has formed, as if it was a giant knot that continuously has its strings being pulled, bound to crumble eventually.

Jungkook’s hands keep your thighs steady as they struggle to not suffocate him, your body resisting the urge to close them around his head. He keeps slurping on your juices and moving his face around in the most infuriatingly pleasurable way, making you moan and whimper out loud, his nose rubbing at that incredibly sensitive button every time he moved.

Your whole body felt like it was catching fire and you could feel your insides clenching around nothing as he tirelessly persisted. You wanted – no, you needed – more.

“Kook…! Jungkook, stop” you say, and he leans back to look up at you, dark blown-out eyes and red lips coated in your essence. “I want you, now, Jungkook.”

He smiles as he gets up, almost smugly, before asking you to turn around with a twist of his wrist. You place your forearms on the couch’s back to brace yourself and present your ass up to him, wiggling it as your legs kept creating some friction for your throbbing center. You mewl as Jungkook’s body bends over yours, his torso warming up your bare back and arms wrapped around your protruding stomach while his length rubbed against your slit.

“Ready?” he asks before kissing at the back of your shoulder.

“Yeah” you respond.

He enters you then, slowly inch by inch, as if savoring every moment, every feeling of your walls stretching out for him as he delved a bit deeper. When he reached balls deep, a tremor cursed through your body as his tip was placed against your cervix, the most stirring feeling cursing through your body and short-circuiting your brain.

You can tell he is trying to take it slow, kissing down your back as his hips thrusted back and forth in strong and deep movements, but not quick. It was still enough to have you gasping at every time he reached deep, the tension building leisurely. But once he finished kissing the skin of your back, standing back up and placing his hands on your wide hips, watching your skin jiggle every time he plunged into your tight pussy, the rhythm accelerated. And your hips started to move too, meeting him halfway as you raced to your end too.

“Ahh… Faster, Jungkook! Fast, baby, faster” you beg in a whiny voice, backing your hips up into his.

His answer, rather than words, ends up being a grunt and his subsiding actions. Jungkook leans back down above your chest only for his hands to come and squeeze at your hanging tits, while his hips snapped faster and faster against yours, his twitching shaft dragging against your walls persistently and stimulating all the right spots as it did so.

The sounds are lewd to say the least, your breathless moans and his grinding groans, the rapid sound of skin against skin and the squelching, revealing exactly how immensely drenched you were for him. Your back arches and you lean your head against the couch as you feel the edge approaching with each push of his cock against your cervix, crown finding that particular spot that made you an absolute mess.

Jungkook pinches and rubs at your nipples as he struggles to keep the human-defying quick thrusts, only to succumb to his own need and release his hot seed in several pumps into your core once he felt your walls collapsing impossibly tight around his cock, sucking him dry.

Both of you reach your climaxes at the same exact time, you crying out his name while he bit down on your shoulder and squeezed your tits so tightly you had to check the next day if he left marks. You felt his warm thick essence fill your womb as your body shook with the waves of absolute bliss crashing down on you. It took you both a while to regain control over your bodies.

Jungkook slips out and you hear him running out into the kitchen. You turn around in time to see him come back with a towel in his hand, a guilty expression on his bashful face.

“Sorry. Here, to clean up.”

He hands you the towel and you gently clean the juices running down your legs and the few drops already on the floor.

“No worries, I had every intention of taking a shower once I got home, anyway” you appease him.

Jungkook brings you in for a hug and kisses your temple before starting to gather the clothes thrown on the floor.

“Can I join?”

You chuckle.

“Of course.”

It was in the middle of a very relaxing shower that you hear him gasping loudly and, worried, you look back at him.

“What is it?”

“Oh no… After today, there is no way I can see The Nightmare Before Christmas with the guys ever again!”

[whump-town]

Puzzle Peices

Warnings: the vague mention of Emily smoking, child abuse bc Hotch, and major character death but like... not heavy

No pairings

Just not the best but I haven't managed to write anything in like forever and this happened today so what the hell?

As a boy, Jack had thought his father something akin to a knight. Adorned in an armor that he could not peel away as simply as the suits he wore to work each morning. As humble as a knight and lucrative in speech and behavior as only one from the highest order. A right hand to the queen, though Jack could never decipher exactly who that was. Perhaps one of his aunts. Many times he’d seen a customary bow out of his father, carrying a wailing Henry around to give his mother a break or moving Penelope’s couch around to as many absurd places as she requested. Even as protective, as demanding as one. Dragging himself limping and bleeding home to recount a lie meant for Jack’s ears only for Emily to tell him, hushed by the late hour of the night and the novelty of time spent together, that his father had done something heroic. Brave but so very stupid.

Bravery, Jack would come to understand, in his father had always been linked in arm with stubbornness.

He was four when his mother died, too young to understand exactly what had happened. He wasn’t alone in that confusion. The circumstances of her death had been abnormal. No one seemed to be able to understand, least of all his father. Who had held her body in his arms. Who had been pried away, sedated to get him out of the house. Now laying supine and dazed. Repeating his slurred questions for anyone willing to answer them a third time.

Haley had been an attentive mother and with his father’s attention hazed in and out by drugs, Jack had felt the startling icy fingers of solitude seeping into his bones for the first time in his life. Never before had he been so alone. His mother dead and his father stumbling to follow after. Startled into silence he’d sat by his father’s bedside, left swaddled in his suit jacket to wait out the instruction of an adult more put together than Hotch.

Jack remembers his father’s weak cries, his voice dried out and confused. Asking again and again for Haley, until he couldn’t even manage to get words to pass his pale lips. Until his dark eyes sunk shut.

Jessica took him in her arms that night, a habit she formed that day in the hospital and never kicked until he was too big to collect like a baby and nestle in her lap, and told him about his parents. A story mutilated time and time again to create an almost, not even a half-truth. His mother, the prom queen, and his father the too shy, too reserved bad boy. About the night she won the crown and tore out of that dance with her fancy, expensive prom dress to go dance with his father. The delinquent who had been expelled the week before, who couldn’t attend the dance but was adamant she go without him.

But Jack couldn’t imagine his father like that. Only as he is now, only as he has always been in Jack’s memory. The past he could see written out on his father’s flesh, a roadmap that dated him back to this boy Jack could not comprehend him as. Scars raised like mount peaks and valleys of tissue and muscle that Jack traced his fingers along, hoping to catch a version of the truth in their layers. There was still a boy in the depths of his father’s aged eyes. In his falter to punish Jack, never raising a hand but losing control of his voice. In the hot tears that streamed down his face in the aftermath, in the way that Jack felt more guilt over those tears than what he’d actually done. Sometimes in his father’s light, jovial laughter Jack could catch a glimpse of that boy. The one Jessica could only whisper about, the one she’d thought was buried alongside Haley.

How could his father have ever been so young? Knocked around by emotions too strong for such small bodies. In part, Jack couldn’t understand it because he knew nothing of his father’s childhood. He could trace his fingers along scars and date them by his father’s willingness to speak about them. Accidents, the majority of them. The clumsy stumblings of a twenty-seven-year-old, a story to be told with a gently sad smile. Refocused narratives that tell him more about his mother than the scar. Gunshot wounds and horror movies slasher bad guys with knives. Those were the stories told by the light of the lamp on his bedside table. Told in the low grumble of his father’s sleepy voice, ones Hotch didn’t even look to see just laid there and knew by touch which ones were being inquired upon.

It was the scars on the great expanse of his chest, the perfect circles on his wrists and by his elbows that deserved no comment. That Jack learned to know better than to ask about.

“My father smoked a lot,” Hotch began but his eyes would get this haze and he’d fall silent before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it buddy,” he’d decide instead. Keeping to himself the secrets of those scars. Bit by bit Jack still learned to put together the intricate truths until he understood for himself how those perfect circles made their way onto his father’s arms. Until he understood why Emily never smoked around his father and why she always did her best to stop. His father’s impressive armor torn to shred in Jack’s curious fingers and he no longer wished to understand the human underneath.

His father was unforgivingly private.

Never prone to gossip nor betrayed secrets, or pried into Jack’s life. He asked about grades when he felt it necessary but trusted that if there was a problem, he’d know about it. He never went through Jack’s room, wouldn’t even take out old laundry or pick up dirty dishes. If asked he’d give one of his solemn nods but never followed it with a comment. Never passed judgment on Jack’s frequently messy room, simply went in and left. It never occurred to Jack he’d do anything different. That he’d search through his drawers or scold him for his mess. The boundaries were set. Parent and child and Hotch did not easily forgive these boundaries being scorned in others.

Jack did not find it easy to reciprocate these boundaries with his father.

His gravely sullen father had only ever interested him. The moment his father left in the mornings or in the death of night Jack would find himself in his father’s room. Unzipping the bags holding those larger than life dry-cleaned suits, softly rubbing at the material. Hoping to find something, a puzzle piece to connect to the choppy image he has of his father. Not even the pictures Jack found of the closet answered his questions. There were pictures of his mother, countless in their abundance with his father appearing seldom. Always in the corner, just out of focus.

That’s how most people see his father. The figure standing just to the side of the action and out of focus.

Between the ages of four and sixteen, Jack heard over a dozen versions of the story about his mother being crowned prom queen. He’d seen pictures of her that young, understood why it was that people liked her so easily. She had effortless charm but Jack was left with his father’s fumbling shy ways, reserved where his mother was bright and cheery. Over the course of that time, the story changed a little every time it was told.

Jack placed his own version, understood what parts were truths and what parts were not.

That night Hotch hadn’t been at the prom (that part is always the same) but it wasn’t because he was expelled, he was in the hospital. There’s a scar on the back of his neck, unphased by time and still thick and ugly despite the decades it’s had to heal. Hotch had flipped his old truck the week of the prom, laid up pretty bad in the hospital. Bad enough Haley had been afraid to leave him for the night. Hadn’t wanted to leave him alone that long or even to go have fun without him. She had gone but only because he’d begged her to and when she’d won she hadn’t even waited for her dance. She’d come back to the hospital in her flowing gown and crown, plucked the silly thing down in his messy hair, and decided she was saving her dance for him.

He’d danced with her three weeks later. Having worked hard to stand again, nurses and his physical therapist standing close by just in case he couldn’t make it through the whole song but he had. She was wearing a summer dress and he was wearing her crown.

But he doesn’t learn this in one fell swoop.

On his seventeenth birthday, he walks out of his bedroom, shuffling outside in his boxers and still squinting through the sun when keys are pressed into his hand. A truck, “I had a similar one when I was your age”, and the customary crooked smile his father often wore when speaking about his childhood. Later that night he’d ask what Hotch’s truck had been like, why he got a truck of all things. And, in the spirit of the day and because at night Hotch was always a little more willing, to tell the truth, Hotch had told him about his truck.

He’d spent two summers saving up for it. Working towards his license and the truck and saving to ensure he could keep it on the road. He’d flipped it when he was eighteen. That’s why he hadn’t made it to see Haley crowned prom queen.

But that wasn’t the full truth either.

Hotch really did flip his truck but those injuries were minimal enough he’d driven home and there his father beat him within an inch of his life. The sort of injuries that left nothing but a gaping hole in Hotch’s memory and the need for a story to tell the nurses. With enough panic and tears, they made it through the E.R. and no one mentioned the lack of blood in the cab of the truck or the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around Hotch’s throat. They noticed. They had to but no one said anything.

Jack doesn’t learn about that truth until he’s in college, old enough to cave to curiosity and far enough away from his father to lack the guilt he should have for prying. He’d spent an afternoon looking over newspaper articles from that time. One article is dedicated to the beautiful, radiant Haley Brooks. All charm and intelligence, no one could think of a better girl to win prom queen. The other a hazy black and white photo of that old pick-up truck and his father, so young Jack can’t believe it’s really him, laying in a hospital bed. A tube down his throat but his eyes opened to slivers, giving the camera a thumbs up.

Jessica tells him about the dance and how serious the injuries had really been. She was only a little bit older than his parents but she’d still been young. Scared watching in slow motion as the weight drop off of Hotch. Leaving him skeletal and so still. They moved him around, kept a walker at hand to try and get him to move but most of the time he couldn’t even manage to hold himself upright. The night of the prom he’d been sitting in a chair by the bed, moved to try and make it look like he’d done it by himself. All for the benefit of Haley. All the nurses were in on it, he’d been hard to argue with during these days. No one really knew if he’d make it and it made his soft request impossible to deny.

So Haley had been welcomed by his illusion, blankets covering the chest tube in his side and pillows sitting him up. Her aim for the night was to stay here with him, another request she knew would be breaking the rules but they were just so hard to say no to. But he’d been adamant, breathlessly fighting with her, until he won. She’d caved seeing him gasping for breath, shaking under the exertion it was taking to fight with her. So she went.

Jack grew obsessed with these stories.

Held onto every piece of his father that anyone was willing to tell him about.

Collected newspapers about him. Articles he was mentioned in. Watched interviews. His intense search for his father made it feel more like Hotch was the dead parent. The one just out of his grasp but Haley had always been available to him. He had home videos of her. Photos in bountiful supply. Stories from everyone who had ever known her. He knew about her childhood. He knew she broke her ankle when she was eight and that Roy had been impatient with her. Harder on her because he thought she was too soft, too comforting and he knew someone would take advantage of that.

His father… there was only mystery.

So Hotch was everywhere Jack could put him. In pictures when he was four. Drawn out like a wisp of smoke, dark and thinly stretching up towards the sky. In the stories he fought out with action figures. The broken hero there to save the day at the very last minute. Crashing through the ceiling, shouting down the hall. The hero.

Hotch always encouraged an open, broad education. Boy scouts. Soccer. Swim team. Drama club. Writing classes. Two semesters of ASL. One semester of Arabic. It didn’t matter if Jack stopped the swim team after three months, so long as he learned something. Hotch hadn’t cared that Jack gave up soccer after sophomore year of high school. Not even when the coaches called and begged him to make Jack keep going. Jack was good but Jack hadn’t wanted to play anymore, so he didn’t.

Jack preferred writing.

Writing out his stories when he thought himself too old for those action figures, even if he keeps the collection under his bed in a tote. Sitting for hours recounting every detail Jessica or Roy or Emily or Dave could give him about his father. Constructing a story for the man he thought without one. Until he had one. Put together slowly through the course of years and bound loosely together. As rough and uneven as his father’s skin.

The one book that remains unpublished.

The one Jack can’t bring himself to speak of. It’s not his story to tell. It’s not even his story to know. But he learned a great deal about his father. That he really can read Jack’s mind but chooses not to. How most people regard his father as this thing to look past or as something akin to a dancing flame, edging around his larger-than-life presence afraid to be burned.

It’s how Jack knows he’s dying.

Writing about people had made him something of a profile. That and growing up with a man like his father had meant a lot of silence, communicating through side-eyed glances and grunts. His partners always hate it, “don’t motion at me, just speak Jack. Tell me what you want”. But the silence is a blessing.

Emily thought it was funny that Jack had found a partner worth marrying in James, a deaf man. His father had nothing to say on the matter but it was funny, they all could see that. No one could deny that.

But with James, the silence was never questioned. It was natural to answer James with his hands, to never shatter the silence his father had taught him to treasure.

“Your father,” James signs one night, the two of them stretched out in Dave’s lawn just watching the ever-growing crowd of his family dance. “Your father is odd.” It takes Jack a long moment to understand. In the ways that Jack is bad about not answering his phone and spending far too many hours at his desk writing, James has a brutal way with words. And not in the “brutal” way that Jack’s publicist compliments him on. In a way that leaves much to be desired.

Jack brushes it off, “he’s always been odd.” But he sees it. He knows what James means.

Hotch is standing a few feet away, eyes watching Hank and the younger kids, while Dave and Emily talk on. His attention not on them at all. There’s something in his eyes, Jack can’t tell what the expression is but it’s not good. It’s a type of sullen he hasn’t seen in a very long time. Not since he was just a little boy sitting by the hospital bed, asking for his mother and hating how confused and weak his father was.

They don’t actually talk about it. When Jack gets a call from the hospital, that his father has had a procedure and can’t drive himself home, he goes without comment. Pulls up with milkshakes and takes him home. Double checks things around the house before setting himself up in the old office, and getting to work. James shows up once he’s off work, welcomed into their easy silence.

James tries to get one of them to say something. He mentions it several times, asks Jack if he’s going to force a confession or not. Jack gets another call, his father’s in the hospital with pneumonia and they needed to contact the next of kin. It’s right there. Jack’s spent his entire life pushing at his father’s for more, to tell him something and now he can’t bring himself to ask, to pry and find out.

So they don’t.

They don’t ever talk about it.

It’s dark now. The bedroom door kept shut to muffle the sounds of the others moving throughout the house. To stifle the rounds of sobs taking them all by surprise. Fine one moment and torn the next.

Jack sits softly on the side of the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. “Hey, dad.” He knows his father can’t see him well, his glasses on the nightstand, and the room too dark. He smiles when he hears his name rasped back, just the thin parting of Hotch’s lips. “James is gonna come in soon,” he promises. “He’s just giving us a minute.” He’s thirty-some years old and he realizes he never came out to his father. Just held a string of girlfriends and boyfriends until James. Of course, he’d been nervous to bring anyone home but he’d never stopped to think to warn his father who he might bring home.

“I love you.”

They’ve always said it a thousand other ways but this time it feels like too much. Too heavy. Too painful. Jack starts to cry, big heaving sobs until he can’t breathe. Consumed by his grief until he curls over himself and leans into the palm Hotch puts his cheek. Lays his head down on his father’s chest and allows himself to be held, to seek comfort like a little boy. Drawn in by thin arms and held close.

James comes in at some point.

Jacks only sort of aware of the two of them talking over him.

This is goodbye.

What had he thought he’d find at the end of this puzzle? It’s done. He put it together. He figured it out.

James folds Jack into his arms and Jack can only cry harder. Recognizes the shift is made. The way James is now the person who’s supposed to love and protect him. That his father’s role in his life has come to an end.

The mystery has died.

[stressisakiller]

Next Steps (F.W)

The Other Dursley Part 2

Pairing: Muggle Dursley x Fred Weasley

A/N: This was requested by and anon who asked for a second part to muggle Dursley x Fred Weasley. I may go ahead and do a third part to this, let me know what you think in the comments!

Flashbacks are in italics. Fred lives AU

Warnings: None, Just fluff 

Word count: 2k

Part 1

You and Freddie had spent the morning together at his flat. You enjoyed some pancakes together that you had agreed to make, chocolate chip, of course, much to George’s delight when he walked out of his room that morning. You and Fred had decided not to tell anyone that you were together yet, you wanted to see how long it took them to figure out that you had actually started dating. George took a measured glance at the way you were seated, lounging in your chair with your legs across Fred’s lap. You pretended not to notice.

 “So what do the lovebirds have planned today?” He questioned. You just rolled your eyes and replied,

 “Well, I was wanting to help out at the shop for a little bit until Harry can get here to show me around a little more.” George’s eyebrow raised at that

 “Oh? Why isn’t Fred showing you around?” you giggled and rolled your eyes

 “Well he does have a popular business to help run and I would hate to get in the way of that,” you answered teasingly. You didn’t give George the chance to answer instead grabbing the dishes and heading to the sink. “Actually,” you mused, “I think I’ll head out to explore now.” You saw that trepidation on both of their faces. “I’ll be fine really, I just want to explore and discover this new place at my own pace and you need to work” You grabbed your purse and Fred stopped you right before you got to the door, he gave you some money so that you could buy whatever you wanted while you were out and with that you headed out eager to explore this magical new world.

 You found an ice cream shop and a cauldron shop, it felt kind of like a kitchen store just more specialized, you were impressed by the solid gold cauldron wondering what the purpose for it could be. You kept wandering through the increasingly busy streets, passing a robe shop and one that should all types of herbs. You were surprised to note that other than the ice cream shop there weren’t many food businesses and there weren’t any bakeries. You decided to speak with Fred about that when you got back to the shop. You were pulled out of your thoughts by someone calling out your name. You turned and saw your cousin running towards you, you laughed as he pulled you into a hug and swung you around. You were dizzy by the time he set you down, you giggled as you asked

 “What are you trying to make me fall over? What’s the occasion Cousin?” Harry grinned at you, 

“Does there have to be an occasion? I’m just excited to see you again! Plus I’m excited to show you around my world a little bit more, although it seems like you’ve been doing some exploring of your own.” You couldn’t help but look a little bashful at that.

 “I couldn’t help it, it was just such a beautiful morning and there was just so much to see!” He shook his head at your excitement,

 “I understand that completely, I felt the same way the first time I came here. Come on let's go! I have to show you my favorite spots.” You spent the rest of the morning into the afternoon running around with Harry, learning more and more about the wizarding world. As you explored you noticed that there were many shops that were empty and closed, asking Harry about it he explained what happened with the Wizarding war and how it affected Diagon alley and the people that worked there. You asked him about your idea from earlier. Would there be a way to buy one of the old shops and bring a muggle bakery in? He mulled it over for a moment before decisively saying that he couldn’t see why not and that he and Mr. Weasley would love to help you figure out the details of how and where. You headed back to Fred and George’s shop in high spirits debating whether you should talk to Fred about it yet or keep it as more of a secret until you got all of the kinks worked out. Opening the door you couldn’t help the smile that lit your face when you saw Fred in his element, talking with his customers, telling them about all the trouble he and George got into at Hogwarts, convincing them to buy more than they needed or thought that they wanted. You giggled as you watched one of the kids walk by you with a dazed look on his face after talking with Fred, you could relate, you wore a similar look after hanging out with him the first couple of times. You strolled over to him just in time to hear the end of his latest story.

 “And that’s how George and I ended up creating a swamp in the middle of the hallway.” You shook your head at that deciding that you would ask him about it later. He noticed you walking up out of the corner of his eye and turned to smile at you, pulling you to his side as he finished helping the customer. He placed a quick kiss on your head, not being able to help himself. You looked around and saw that George was just leaving the storage room so he probably didn’t see it so you could keep the charade going at least a little bit longer. You murmured that you were going to go put your bags into the apartment upstairs since they were giving a little heavy and he nodded and told you to come back down and find him once you were done. You did just that, taking a moment to check your appearance in the mirror before you headed down, appearances weren’t the most important thing but you knew that you probably looked a little windswept after being outside all morning. You came back down the stairs and started to help George at the cash register, he quickly explained the money system and told you to holler if you needed any help before he ran back into the backroom to restock a couple of the shelves that were currently empty. You were in awe of how well their business was doing and how many people appreciated them bringing joy back to the world. You became determined that you were going to find a way to help them bring that joy back in any way that you could. Mentally setting up a plan for how and where you would put your bakery. Looking around the shop you had ideas for tons more desserts and goodies, wondering if wizards would like the coffee you would make and what new flavors you could experiment with that the wizarding world had. Watching Fred you settled that you would wait to tell him until you were certain it would work. 

The next couple of weeks consisted of you, Arthur, and Harry making and executing the plans for your new shop. You found and bought the empty shop next to the Weasley’s shop, thinking that you could put a doorway between the two so that it would be easier for Fred and you to see each other during the day. It didn’t take long for George to realize that you were up to something so you had to spill the beans and tell him your plan. You were surprised by how excited he was at the prospect and how many ideas he had to make it better. Your secret-keeping came to an end when you had purchased the new place and Harry had helped you set up all of the appliances you would need, Arthur, made sure that it was all perfectly legal and you had a permit as a muggle to have a business in the wizarding world. It was two months since you and Fred had started dating and you were going to show him your shop as an anniversary date. You baked that morning making a couple of your new treat ideas including bread shaped like unicorns and chocolate trolls filled with raspberry compote. You were super nervous about telling him, worried that he would be mad about you keeping it from him, but you didn’t want to get his hopes out before knowing if it would work out. You met up with him around 7 that night, right as their shop was closing. He walked down out of his apartment as soon as you walked in the door. He wasn’t dressed up, he had taken off his suit jacket and vest earlier in the day, but he still looked good in his slacks and white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You were dressed in a cute sundress not wanting to look too formal knowing that Fred probably wouldn’t look properly formal until the day he got married. You may have blushed a little when you had that thought. He walked up to you, looking you over he couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky, 

“You look beautiful” he breathed out, you blushed even harder at his words

. “Well, you don’t look too bad yourself” you quipped, “are you ready to see my surprise for you?” He flashed you one of his signature grins and told you to lead the way. He couldn’t help his confusion when you lead him out of his shop and into the one next door. You held your breath as you turned the lights on, worried about what his reaction would be. You heard his quick intake when the lights illuminated the space around you. You waited another moment before turning to look at him, his eyes were taking everything in and you waited for him to ask the questions you knew were coming. After taking in the whole room he turned to face you,

 “So is this what you’ve been working on the last 2 months?” he questioned. You looked down stealing yourself to what he would say once he heard your answer. 

“Yes, Harry, your Dad and I have been working on figuring out a way for me to open a bakery in Diagon Alley. They helped me enchant the appliances so that they would work without muggle electricity. I should be able to open in a couple of months, there is still a lot to get done.” You were surprised by the smile that overtook his face at your words,

 “You mean to tell me that in a couple of months you will be working right next to me and living near me? That I will be able to just walk next door to see you and not have to worry about exploding magic to muggles?” his smile grew when you nodded “This is the best gift you could have ever gotten me!” He pulled you into a tight hug and you realized that there was no one else that you would want to be with not when the man in front of you was so excited for you to get to do your passion. You felt the tears well up in your eyes from how happy you were to have him in your life. You looked in his eyes and declared that you were done hiding your relationship from his family, that you wanted to go to the weekly Weasley dinner that night and let them know that you were together and couldn’t be happier. He grabbed your hand and apparated you to the garden outside the burrow. Giving you a quick kiss to fortify you he opened the door and walked into the Burrow with your hands intertwined. You laughed at Mrs. Weasley’s reaction and how she was so excited for you to be a part of the family, you and Fred blushed at that. You were swarmed by the rest of the Weasleys and were so overwhelmed that you almost didn’t see Harry handing over a galleon to George. Almost

[jawabear]

Believable (Din Djarin x Reader)

Not My GIF

A/N: wow, two fics in one day? The Christmas spirit is surly getting to me. Although, this one isn’t Christmas themed. I suppose this counts as a Sex Pollen fic? As you can tell, this is my first attempt at writing one so it probably sucks. But I hope you enjoy the Mando smut anyway. There kind of is no development to this story, but I kind of want to make a second part to develop it more, because I got a few ideas whilst writing it but I didn’t want this story to be too long. I don’t know, we’ll see. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, smut, sex pollen (I guess), oral (fem receiving), roughness, fingering, all that jazz, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Sacrifices have to be made in order to complete a mission.

“If you know where he is, why can’t we just go in there and get him?” Mando asked, slight impatience in his voice, but the trip from Navarro to where they were was a long and tedious one. Even though the two hunters would consider each other friends, they still needed time away from each other which was slightly impossible when you are confined in his ship.

“That’s not how things work here” she told him with the shake of her head “that won’t go the way you want it too. Trust me on this one”

“You’ve been here before?” He asked her.

“I never said that” she mumbled under her breath.

It wasn’t much longer before they came to an open tall gate with thick metal bars coloured bronze. A stone wall of what looked to be some sort of pure white marble seemed to run around the expanse of what the Mandalorian guess to be the town, in which (Y/N) had said they would find their shared bounty.

Mando was about to walk into the town when (Y/N) took a tight hold of his arm holding his back. He turned to looked her and she released his arm “when we go in there,” she began in a serious tone “you do not speak to anyone. You do not look at anyone. You stay with me and you do as I say. Do you understand? You don’t want to cause trouble here, I can assure you it will be something you have never faced in your life. Trouble here can not be solved but simply shooting a blaster”

Mando thought for a moment. Of course he wasn’t going to go against her words, he had always listened to her, perhaps out of fear or admiration. He gave he a slow nod and watched in pure confusion as she ran her hands through her hair, removing it from its styled state and making it look messy and brushing it over to the side so that it slightly covered her left eye. She then rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and threaded her fingers through his, startling him slightly.

“Do you want him or not?” She asked him. He nodded and let out a quiet sigh before letting her lead him through the street.

He was used to being looked at, it wasn’t all that often that people would see a Mandalorian roaming through their towns and villages, he didn’t mind the staring because he never took that much notice of it. But the staring here was different. Usually people would look upon him in either curiosity, hate, anger or fear, sometimes happiness or relief but those were very rare. But there’s stares were that of lust, hunger and want. Every pair of eyes the landed on him looked as if they wanted to strip him clean of all his armour and clothing and just have their way with him. Which of course was not far of the mark.

He had faced many dangers in his life and had been nearly killed many times, but this was proving to be a whole new kind of danger, one that was slightly frightening to him. He noticed too the looks everyone seemed to give (Y/N). It seemed they had swapped roles in this place. It was her who was looked at with hate, anger and fear. Whereas usually people would look upon her in desire. He understood why, there was no denying she was beautiful, incredibly beautiful. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that Mando had developed feelings for her in perhaps a more friendly way.

Soon, the pair arrived at a fancy looking building. It looked to be some sort of palace, a very grand place. (Y/N) pulled him inside and gripped his hand tighter. He wondered if it was out of fear or just to keep him close.

Inside, he was met with a sight he never thought he would see. In every corner of the room, people were all over each other. He was seeing far too much of them all. It made him uncomfortable, but (Y/N) didn’t seem to take much notice, however she did notice the shift in his body language. She was then pulling him in between the bodies of intimate people making all sorts of comments and noises that he knew he would never be able to get rid of from his mind. He wanted to know why she had brought him here. And he also didn’t want her to leave him.

She pulled him towards a woman with light pink skin and midnight black hair. She wore and long white dress that fell to the floor and golden bracelets encrusted with colourful jewels all the way up her arms and a very heavy looking gold necklace around her neck. Her eyes were a bright shade of purple.

“You came back” she spoke to (Y/N) in a language that he had never heard before “and you brought a friend” she looked towards Mando with wanting eyes that made him take a step back.

“More then a friend” (Y/N) said using the same dialect. “I was hoping you would supply us with a room”

“Of course” the woman smiled “right this way” she began to lead them again through the mess of people scattered about the place enjoying themselves far too much. But the Mando clocked the target, sat surrounded by girls of all different kinds, looking too proud of himself as he sipped on blood red wine. It seemed (Y/N) saw him too.

The woman with pink skin pulled back a thick black curtain that revealed a small but spacious room fit with a long sofa and a comfortable looking bed. There were more than one million questions flying round in his head. “Have fun” she said before pulling the curtain back leaving him and (Y/N) alone in the room, unpleasant sounds from the next room not being dulled by the barrier of fabric.

“Why are we here?” He asked after a tense moment of silence between them.

“He’s here is he not? I told you, you’ll just have to trust me” she told him as she went about fixing her hair before taking a seat on the foot of the bed. He opted for the sofa to try not to make things awkward.

“You’ve been here before...” he murmured.

“I’d rather not talk about it” she said as she stared sadly at the ground. He respected this and didn’t push her, but he was curious though.

“What do we do now?” He asked.

“We have to wait until morning. Wait for it to die down. It usually does in the early hours, everyone will be asleep, then that will be out window to take him” she summarised as she pulled her thick black boots off her feet and setting them aside.

“What makes you so sure he’ll still be here?”

“Trust me, he will be. That wine he was drinking, it’s spiked with a sort of pollen that dials you up to eleven. It makes you uncontrollable. Makes you want to have sex with anything that moves” (Y/N) explained, she did so with such confidence that it almost intimidated him. He wasn’t very knowledgeable in the world of sex but he had done it before. But certainly not in the way that he had been witness too.

“Right...” he muttered.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. Lilia knows me from a long time ago and owes me quite a lot. Plus I knew that someone like him would have to be in a place like this. Our options were limited”

“It’s...fine” he didn’t really know what to say. It wasn’t really fine but she was right. They were running low on options. He would just have to live with it for now.

“I think it would be best if we stay in here until morning. We don’t know what other kind of trouble could be out there” he nodded at this, thinking it was a sensible suggestion.

“Will we be disturbed do you think?”

“Who knows. Someone may try and get in but it is unlikely” he nodded again and lent back on the sofa letting out a sigh. But before he could relax too much (Y/N) was walking over to him. He couldn’t get a word in before she was straddling his waist “put your hands on my waist” she told him.

“Wh-What?” He asked completely flustered, if he didn’t have his helmet on she would be seeing his face bright red and burning in embarrassment.

“Just do it” she hissed and grabbed his wrists and forced his hands onto her hips. She pressed her self further against him and began giggling at nothing as she ran her fingers seductively up his arm and across his chest plate when the curtain was drawn open slightly.

Lilia walked in with a tray that held one singular glass of the same blood red wine that their target was drinking. “In case he gets thirsty” she teased as she set the drink down on the small table next to the sofa.

(Y/N) hummed with a slightly dazed look on her face as she looked at the drink before looking back at him with eyes that were dark and full of pure lust and desire “maybe I’ll get to see what you look like when you drink it” she whispered in a language he could understand. Her finger ran around the under rim of his helmet before sliding slowly down his covered neck.

The curtain was drawn again and she was quick to remove herself from him. “I’m sorry” she said “I had to make it look believable”

He sat there completely flustered and confused. His hands were frozen in the air as if they were still pressed against her hips. His face was burning, but he was blaming that on the extraordinary heat of this planet and the fact he was covered in thick armour.

She was sat back on the bed, turned away from him and playing nervously with her hands. She was too scared to say anything back to him now. She had embarrassed both her and him.

For a while there was a thick and horrible silence that hung over the pair of bounty hunters, excluding the horrendous noises that came from outside the room. He somehow managed to regain his composure and he stood. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and watched as he walked towards the small table where the dark red drink was resting, waiting to be consumed.

“What would happen to me if I drank this?” He asked as he tapped the rim of the glass with his finger.

“Well...you would not be able to control your sexual desires. You would loose yourself in your lust and want of release. You would do anything to insure your pleasure and climax were met”

“And...how long does it last?”

“It’s hard to say. They used to think it lasted until you had completely exhausted yourself, but it varies. It can last up until exhaustion, it can last until one climax. A popular theory is that is lasts until you have had sex with the one you desire most”

She watched as he lifted the glass from the table and swirled the liquid in the glass a few times before glancing over to the curtain “Do you think anyone else will interrupt us?” He asked.

“Probably not. Why?”

“Do you have something you can cover your eyes with?”

“Um...there’s probably a piece of cloth around here that I could use. But Mando, What are you asking all this for?”

“It has to look believable right?” He asked “why pretend when we can make it real?” He said in a low voice as he looked in her direction. She felt a shiver run through her spine at the tone in which he spoke but she was concerned about his next move.

He tilted his helmet up making her look away out of respect for his code but she could hear him gulping down the liquid making her worry. She head the glass being set back on the table so she glanced back behind her to see he was teetering when he stood.

“Mando, What have you done?” She panicked as she raced over to him to hold him steady, worried he would suddenly collapse.

“Find something to cover your eyes” he ordered deeply. She found her self falling into a submissive state, wanting to do whatever he asked. So she was quick in sourcing a long black piece of fabric and handing it over to him. He placed it over her eyes and tied it semi-tightly at the back of her head. “Do not remove this”

“I won’t” she said all too quickly “I promise”

He gently caressed her cheek with the back of his gloved had and she leant into his touch. But his hand then slid down from her cheek, grazing over her neck, across her chest and landing on her hip which had now become his favourite thing to hold. “I’ve never told you how beautiful you are” he whispered. His hand was briefly removed from her as he lifted off his helmet and place it beside the empty glass.

She drew in a sharp breath when she felt his warm breath fam against her cheek as she leaned in to whisper to her “there’s a lot of things I haven’t told you” his hand was back on her hip, but it was slipping lower “how beautiful you are...” he pressed a kiss to her cheek making her bite her bottom lip “how I really feel for you...” his fingers traced over her thigh making her first clench slightly, she didn’t really know what to do with her hands in that moment “how much I...want to fuck you” his voice was low and hot directly in her ear.

His hand moved in between her legs and touch over her clothed pussy. There were many layers between him and her but the ghostly touch was enough to make her weak at the knees. “Mando...” She panted as she brought her hands to rest on the cold beskar of his chest plate.

The Mandalorian removed his mouth from her ear and pressed his lips to her in a rough and wanting kiss. His tongue wasted no time in invading her mouth and claiming each inch as his own. No one else was to ever have her now other than him. And he made sure to tell her that. His hand cupped her pussy making her thighs pressed against his hand “this and everything else is mine” he told her “you are mine” he spoke in almost a growl.

“Yes!” She whined “Yes! I’m yours. I’m only yours”

His kiss was getting deeper by the second and his other arm came to wrap around her waist to hold her firmly against him whilst he removed his other hand from between her legs and wrapped that one around her waist too. “Fuck” he growled as he began rolling his hips against her seeking some sort of friction for his dick that was growing hard with every moment that passed. “Fuck. Take your clothes off now” he ordered.

He pulled away from her and began discarding his armour and underclothes whilst he watched her undress as quickly as she could neither of them caring where their clothes ended up.

Once they were both bare, he stalked back towards her, his hands reaching out to feel every inch of her body making her whimper and moans quietly at the feeling of his rough and worn hands on her soft skin. “Mando..” she whispered.

“Din” He said quietly as he began to practically make out with her neck.

“What?” She asked followed by a gasp as her hands came to rest on his shoulders, digging her blunt nails into his skin.

“That’s my name. I want you to call me that as I fuck you” he told her. She nodded as swallowed thickly as he walked her backwards towards the bed. She found herself tumbling on to the plush mattress with him following behind her, crawling on top of her, kissing all the way up her body. Biting, sucking and licking his way up.

She moaned a little too loudly when his tongue began to circle round her nipple whilst his right hand snaked it’s way down her body. She really hoped no one would walk in. The blindfold across her eyes only added to the sensation. Her lack of sight seemed to heighten all her other sense making every touch surprising and enjoyable.

His hand found its way back between her legs and he slipped two of his rough fingers between her soaking folds making her moan. “Din!” She moaned, he loved the way his name sounded rolling off her sweet tongue. “Oh fuck Din...”

“So fucking wet” he muttered as she moved his mouth back to her neck. “I could just...” his fingers slipped into her tight hole making her back arch off the bed and her mouth fall open letting out a silent moan as her brain struggled in processing the pleasure she was receiving from such a simple move. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) cried out “Oh fuck Din!”

“Tell me how good it feels” he hummed as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace. Her hips struggled to stay on the bed as she wriggled and writhed under him.

“F-Fuck...it feels so good Din!” His fingers picked up the pace all too quickly. Her hips completely rose off the bed as her toes curled and her fists clenched the bedsheets. “Fuck!” She screamed.

He moved his mouth down her body, fingers still pumping quickly in and out of her. Din nudged her legs further apart so he could slot himself between them. When he did, his tongue shot out to toy with her clit making her scream and reach down to grab his hair. He groaned against her when she tugged on his hair.

His hips began to mindlessly roll along the bed, getting himself off as best he could. The friction from the bedsheets felt amazing against his hard length but it was nothing compared to what he believed she would’ve felt around him.

Din got to his knees and pulled his fingers from her, not giving her a moment to protest, before replacing his fingers with his throbbing length. They both moaned loudly at the feeling. He was a lot bigger than what she had imagined and she was a lot tighter than he thought. But that didn’t matter. It was amazing either way for both of them.

“You feel so good” he grumbled “so wet..so tight...”

“Din! Fuck!” She cried out “oh fuck! You feel amazing!”

“Gonna make you come so hard. You’ll be screaming my name” he growled through grit teeth as he pounded into her, grabbing her hips in a vice-like grip, it was sure to leave some sort of bruise but she didn’t care, it only added to the pleasure. “Gonna fill you completely”

“Please” she begged weakly. He moved so that he was hovering over her, his firsts clenched either side of her head as he slammed into her drawing a whimper or a moan from her with each thrust. Her hands moved to his back where her blunt nails duh into the broad expanse of his skin. Her legs lifted to wrap around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

His forehead dropped to her, their panting breaths mixing between them. Din leaned forwards and planted a sloppy kiss to her lips. “D-Din” She stuttered “I’m gonna Come..”

“Me too (Y/N)” he grumbled as he bit down on her bottom lip. He snakes his left hand down between their bodies and began to rub quick circles on her clit making her scream, her body moving every which way, over come by pleasure. Her walls began to squeeze and fluttered around his dick making him grit his teeth as he felt white hot pleasure building up inside him.

She let out a call of his name as she came over him, her body shaking and twitching as he continued to thrust into her as he raced to reach his own end. His hand didn’t cease it movements in her clit, at this rate he would draw another climax from her.

He let out a low and continuous string of curses as he came, shooting ropes of his come into her, filling her completely and pulling her over the edge of pleasure a second time. Her walls clamping down on him, milking every last drop from him. His hips began to slow as he rode both of them through their highs, kissing her again as she drew the last few drops from him.

“I’m sorry...” he whispered. Feeling, now, utterly guilty of what had just happened. He knew that technically it wasn’t him, he wasn’t in control, but he didn’t actually need to drink it, but he did anyway.

“It’s okay” She said quietly, bringing her hands to glide through his hair. “You did what you had to do to get rid of it...”

“But it was unnecessary...I-I didn’t need to drink it”

“It was either you or me. Don’t feel bad Din” she smiled “I enjoyed it”

“So did I” He hummed “do you think that was believable enough?”

She laughed and took his face between her hands, pressing sweet kisses to his lips “I think so, yes”

21/12/20

[badatjokezz]

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe.... 

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills 

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

[occasionally-writing]

I Love You For Being You

A/N: Here ya go anon! I was planning this fanfic for most of the night but I didn’t get a chance to really sit down and write it until now! Nonetheless, I really hope you like it and I hope everyone else who reads it likes it too! 

Summary: When Team seems out of it throughout the day, Win worries about him until they go to Win’s dorm and Team opens up about what has been bothering him.

Word Count: 1881

Team had been acting off the whole day and it was starting to confuse and worry Win. Ever since they had met up for breakfast at the business faculty canteen, Pharm and Manaow beside him, Win noticed the way the younger man seemed to be deep in thought, barely eating and just messing with his rice with his fork and spoon. Win didn’t think much of it then but when it continued to happen, even during their swim practice, the older boy knew he had to say or do something, his worry beginning to make it hard to focus on anything but Team. Drying his hair with the towel around his neck, Win leaned against the swim team lockers and just observed the way Team seemed to be dazed, mindlessly drying himself off as he stared into space.

“If you continue to stare at him, you’ll look like you’re on something.” Rolling his eyes at the teasing tone Dean gave him, Win turned his attention from his boyfriend and glanced at Dean, who was smirking at him like he was picking a fight. Arching his brows in a way to show Dean he was willing to fight back if necessary, Win only grinned when his best friend rolled his eyes and moved to open his locker, pulling out his uniform and draping it over his arm. Doing the same with his own locker, Win gave one last look towards Team before he followed Dean towards a more private area of the locker room. “Did you do something to make his mind wander? He was distracted during practice and it did a little bit of damage to his times.”

“I wouldn’t do anything I haven’t done before. He was like this since our group had breakfast together…” Win thought out loud, tossing the towel on the bench beside them as he pulled his hair out of the ponytail. Removing his trunks and throwing them next to the towel, Win pulled out his boxers and slipped them on, stretching as Dean got dressed. “I was thinking about taking him back to my dorm and trying to talk with him. Maybe something’s troubling him and he just doesn’t know how to open up about it.”

Letting out a hum at what Win said, Dean pulled on his shirt and missed the look of mischief that crossed Win’s face as his eyes turned back towards the damp towel lying across the bench. Scooping it up, Win spun it around and by the time Dean’s head poked out of the shirt, the towel was whipped and it smacked hard against the skin of Dean’s lower back. Biting back a yell at the attack, Dean turned his threatening gaze towards his friend who just grinned, the smile falling when Win noticed the way Dean smirked and grabbed his own towel. Knowing Dean’s strength and his fearlessness with not holding back with him, Win quickly pulled on his pants and grabbed his dress shirt, darting away as Dean got the towel all twisted. Clicking his tongue, Dean didn’t seem to be phased as he just followed Win, not minding the eyes of their juniors following them, Win’s pleadings of mercy meaning nothing to him. 

Finally having gotten dressed and his hair up in its usual ponytail, his lower back stinging from the hit that Dean gave him, Win strolled to the main area of the changing room and paused when he noticed Team still sitting on the bench, fully dressed but still looking like his mind was elsewhere. Standing in front of him, Win gently knocked on one of the lockers, finally catching Team’s attention as he twitched and his gaze cleared, his eyes meeting Win’s concerned ones. Shaking his thoughts away, Team stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder, taking in the way Win watching him before he slowly reached out, lacing their fingers together, his eyes never leaving the wet tiles of the changing room. 

“Can we go to your dorm?” Team asked softly, his tone making Win’s brows arch as he nodded, not wanting to deny his boyfriend of anything. Tightening his grip on Team’s hand, Win led them out of the changing room and away from the pool, the burning of his back long forgotten as he helped Team onto his motorbike, his boyfriend not complaining about it like he normally would. Putting his keys in the bike, Win revved up the engine and paused when he didn’t have to tell Team to wrap his arms around his waist, the boy’s arms already circling him as his face was pressed snug against Win’s back. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, hang on tight,” Win replied, patting Team’s interlocked hands on his stomach before he pressed the gas pedal, the two of them making their way out of the parking lot and towards the dormitory, the familiar path making it easy for Win to follow and his mind to wander, wondering what could possibly be on Team’s mind. Not having to drive for long, the dormitory already in his sight, Win slowed to a stop and parked his bike, turning off the engine and stuffing his keys into his pocket. “We’re here. Come on, let’s go inside.”

Not saying a word, all Team did was nod and his arms were gone from Win’s waist, the boy straightening himself out as he followed his boyfriend into the building, both of them giving a polite wai to the desk attendant. Taking the elevator up to Win’s floor, Win could only play with his keys, the silence around them kinda stifling since it was usually filled with their usual banter and Team’s protests of Win’s acts of love. Stepping out once they reached the right floor, Win let Team take the lead, the boy still looking dazed as he relied on muscle memory and before long, they were in front of Win’s room. 

Unlocking the door, Win held the door open for Team and strolled in after him, both of them kicking off their shoes and throwing their bags next to them, Win not minding the messiness this time around since he was more concerned about the lack of talking from his boyfriend. Rubbing the back of his neck, Win just observed the way Team walked in and sat down on one of the beanbag chairs Win had, his gaze never leaving the black screen of the television. Picking at his fingernails, a nervous habit that he had picked up from somewhere, Team took a deep breath and turned his attention to Win, who was taking him in with a worried gaze, a small twinge of guilt rising in Team’s chest at the thought of Win being worried about him for most of the day.

“Hia...can we watch a movie? Anything is fine with me,” Team asked, his voice clouded in something that Win couldn’t place. Letting out a hum, Win stepped closer to his boyfriend and kneeled down, beginning to look through the piles of dvds he had, making a small smile rise on Team’s face when he noticed the adorable look of concentration on Win’s face. Pulling out, ‘Spirited Away,’ Win arched his brow at Team in question, Team chuckling softly and nodding, not minding the choice his boyfriend made. Grinning at the smile that was appearing on Team’s face, Win set up the dvd player and inserted the movie. “Not a bad choice...we should have a Studio Ghibli marathon some time or something.”

“I don’t mind. It could be like a date night,” Win chuckled, his lips turning up in a smirk at the flush that filled Team’s cheeks, the boy puffing his cheeks as he crossed his arms. Knowing that Team actually liked the thought of that, Win settled back against the free beanbag chair just as the movie began playing, his attention on the screen as he was vaguely aware of the way Team was still eyeing him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Team slowly crawled closer to Win, his eyes remaining on the carpet as he placed himself in between Win’s legs, squirming closer until his back was pressed against Win’s chest and his head laid comfortably on Win’s shoulder. Wrapping his arms around Team’s waist and holding him, Win nuzzled his nose into Team’s hair, the scent of chlorine and something that was just Team making Win hug him harder. “Is something on your mind? I noticed how you seemed to be out of it and it worried me…”

Freezing up as he heard this, Team swallowed back the guilt and turned a little so he could look Win in the eyes, the concern coming off his boyfriend in waves. Thinking about how he should ask about what has been on his mind, Team turned his gaze back towards the movie, watching it for a moment before his mouth opened and closed, his brain trying hard to get out what he was feeling. He knew that Win wouldn’t laugh at him but that still didn’t make expressing himself any easier. Figuring it would be faster just to get it over with, much like ripping a bandaid off quickly, Team met Win’s eyes again and let out a sigh.

“I was thinking about us. You...don’t mind that I get embarrassed easily with public affection right? That I’m not as...as lovey dovey as Pharm is with P’Dean?” Team asked, his thoughts finally spewing from his mouth as he continued to ramble. Not seeing the way Win was frowning, Team kept voicing out his worries until he was forced to stop, Win’s mouth pressed against his in a kiss. Letting his eyes flutter shut, Team returned the soft kiss and only pulled away when an intense scene in the movie startled them. Cackling at how they both got scared, Win pressed his forehead against Team’s and just stared into his eyes, the love that was clearly pouring from his eyes making Team’s doubts fade into something much smaller and easier to deal with. “I...um…”

“I don’t care if you’re not lovey dovey like Pharm. You’re you and I love how you are. You may not show love like how other people would but I can tell you clearly care,” Win whispered, cupping Team’s cheek and playfully squeezing it, making Team yelp and glare at him lightly, swatting his hand away with a pout. Chuckling softly, Win pulled Team closer and nuzzled their noses together, making the pout leave Team’s lips as he just stared into Win’s eyes, his gaze leaving Win’s eyes to stare down at his lips before they rose back up. “I love you Team. Nothing will change my mind.” 

Knowing that Win was telling the truth, Team could only nod softly and close his eyes when Win leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before he pulled away and grinned. Burrowing himself against Win to hide his blushing face, Team turned his gaze back to the movie, placing his hands on Win’s that were laid softly against his stomach. Pressing a kiss to Team’s temple, Win leaned his head against Team’s and grew quiet, the movie gaining both of their attention once more as the silence around the room no longer felt stifling.

[crescent-quill-writings]

Rockefeller Ice Rink

Fandom: Hamilton - Miranda

Words: 2489

Relationship: James Madison/Marquis de Lafayette

Additional tags: Fluff, Christmas, Ice Skating, Modern AU

Inspired by @ovrarches!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

December in New York City was as charming as it was any other year. It was still early in the season, but the city had already been caught up in the full swing of the holiday spirit. Businesses had been decorated with reds, greens, and golds, and the landmarks of the city were preparing their own grand displays for the coming holidays.

James couldn’t help but smile as soft snowflakes landed amongst his eyelashes. As much as he tried to keep himself from getting caught up in the chaotic festivities of the city that never slept, the little things always got to him.

Once he turned the corner and ducked into the little niche of a cozy cafe, he pulled his ochre scarf below his chin, sighing as he left the winter-chilled air behind him. He allowed the scent of fresh coffee and seasonal spices to fill his nose as he stepped into line, and it didn’t take long before the attention of the barista was focused on him.

“I’ll take a dark chocolate mocha, hold the whipped cream.” He instructed quietly, offering the barista a nod in thanks as she went to prepare his drink and he took a seat in a booth by the window.

James was quiet as he waited for his drink, watching as the hustle and bustle carried each passersby throughout their day. He was happy that the café was quiet save for the instrumental carols that provided a classic, festive atmosphere to the little café. It was pleasant, although James would never fully admit it.

Soon, his name was called and he stood to collect his drink, his lips twitching upwards at the little pair of reindeer painted on the side of the cup as he returned to his seat.

He barely got a chance to bring the mug of warm chocolate to his lips before a familiar face stepped through the door.

“Jemmy! It’s good to see you,” Thomas called, walking past the counter to sit across from his friend, taking a moment to shake some snow out of his hair before he continued, “How’s the season been treating you?”

“It’s nothing that isn’t normal,” James replied with a small sigh as he set down his mug and leaned back in his seat, “I appreciate your concern, Thomas, but you shouldn’t worry yourself over me. We’re not kids anymore; I’ve mostly grown out of my asthma.”

Thomas gave him a bit of a strained smile as he folded his hands in front of him. He was bouncing his leg; James could feel the motion slightly shaking the table and creating little ripples in the surface of his mocha.

“Something on your mind?”

“Sort of,” Thomas began again, giving James another smile, this one nervous instead, “Are you busy at all today?”

“Not particularly, why?” James knew what Thomas’ tone meant. He was about to ask for a favour, or spring some social event on him. Or both.

“Do you remember Lafayette? I roomed with him when I was working in France a little while ago,” Thomas replied, tilting his head as he tapped his fingers on the table, “He actually just moved here last month, made fast friends with Alexander and his group too.”

“And you're telling me this because…?”

“I may or may not have already told him that you could go ice skating at Rockefeller with all of us today.”

And there it was. James could only sigh in response, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Thomas, you know I’m not exactly a social person.”

“I know, I know,” Thomas replied with a sigh of his own, looking down and away from James in shame, “But he really wants to meet you, Jemmy. I told him a lot about you back in France and he’s excited about this.”

“Don’t ‘Jemmy’ me now,” James muttered, turning his gaze to his mocha in an attempt to ignore the pouts and whines that Thomas was trying to persuade him with.

“Come on, Jemmy, just this once? For me? It’s only a couple of hours, and I’ll owe you big time…”

“Fine,” James relinquishes with a huff, “You better not forget about this favour either.”

He didn’t give Thomas time to respond before he stood, taking his mug with him as he approached the counter and cleared his throat to get the attention of the barista.

“Could you put this in a to-go cup?”

 *~*~*~*~*~*

 The Rockefeller Centre was busy enough any other time of year, packed with native New Yorkers and tourists alike. The holiday season only dialled up the crowds to eleven.

The Christmas tree, though it was still in the process of being decorated before its grand unveiling, still caught the gaze of the many from the grandeur of its sheer size. There were streams of people coming in and out of the stores surrounding the square, the buildings of which were all dressed up in festive colours and to market themselves for the holidays.

It was New York’s beautiful, chaotic, and imperfect celebrations were well underway.

“I still miss the South’s way of celebrating this season,” James muttered as he did his best to keep up with Thomas’ long strides while he struggled to swim upstream through the mass of people, “It’s much classier, and causes much less anxiety too.”

“As much as I agree with you, James,” Thomas replied with a shake of his head, looking down and back at his much shorter friend, “Try to keep your chin up, alright? We’re here to have fun with some friends.”

James only huffed in response, looking down at the cup he held in his gloved hands. He just hoped he’d get a chance to finish his mocha soon.

“Thomas, mon ami! I am so glad that you could make it.”

James looked up as another man began to approach them. His resemblance to Thomas was uncanny, and save for a few details of his face and the neat bun that held back his thick curls, they could have easily been identical twins.

“I always keep my promises, Lafayette, it’s nice to see you too.”

James watched as they shared a few more words he couldn’t make out, most likely because they weren’t in English, before they pressed a pair of quick pecks to each of each others’ cheeks. It confused him for a moment until he remembered something about French greetings, and then Lafayette’s attention was on him.

“And you must be le petit James! Thomas has talked a lot about you, I am glad to finally meet you in person.” Lafayette’s demeanour was sugar, spice, and everything nice.

James had to catch himself before the icy appearance he usually kept with strangers melted away. He sent a quick glance to Thomas to ask for a translation of the words he didn’t recognize, but when he received a shake of the head in response, he decided not to dwell on it.

“Thomas has said many things about you too,” James replied with a curt nod, shifting his mocha to his left hand so he could extend the other for a handshake, “It is nice to meet you too.”

Maybe Lafayette didn’t see James’ hand, or maybe he simply ignored it, because as he a warm laugh bubbled past his lips he leaned down and pressed two quick kisses to James’ cheeks.

Almost immediately heat rushed to his faced as he stared up at the Frenchman with a flustered gape, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he tried to find an appropriate response.

“Oh, mon Dieu! I am so sorry, James, I forgot- I was only trying to be polite. That is how I would greet friends back in France.” Lafayette quickly replied once he realized what he’d done, taking hold of James’ still-extended hand in his mitted grip as he continued to murmur apologies.

Thomas, who had been watching this scene unfold with a guileful grin, couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore, “Don’t worry about it, Laf. James doesn’t take offence that easily, right?”

In the moment James finally managed to collect himself, giving a simple nod in response as he tucked his hand back in his pocket, “Of course not. Uhm, are the others here too?”

At the change of topic Lafayette smiled again, offering a nod in response, “Yes, they’re already on the ice. I just wanted to wait for you two.”

“How sweet,” Thomas replied, giving the Frenchman’s shoulder a pat to grab his attention, “Why don’t we go grab ourselves some skates and get in on the action before they’re all tuckered out, hm?”

Lafayette smiled brighter this time with another nod as he followed Thomas to the little skate rental booth, going on to chat about something or other in his same sweet excitement.

James simply watched them leave, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he turned away to find a place by the boards where he could watch. It’s not like he had the skills to join in on the fun anyways, and here he finally got to enjoy his mocha.

He was quiet in his content as he sipped at the dark chocolate drink. It had lost some of its original heat, but it was still pleasant to hold and helped warm his chilled body. He turned his attention to the skaters a moment later, searching for the faces he recognized.

He saw Alexander and John laughing together as they ducked and wove between the other skaters in a rush to go nowhere. He watched for a moment as Burr stumbled for a moment before catching himself on Hercules, a giant of a man that looked a little out of place on the ice. Then, his gaze drifted back to Thomas and Lafayette, though he was only focused on the Frenchman.

James couldn’t help the way his lips twitched up in a smile. Lafayette’s eyes were warm, like the gentle glow of a candle on Christmas Eve. He watched the corners of the Frenchman’s eyes crinkle up as he laughed, and James felt himself mirroring the expression before he snapped himself out of his little daze.

“Get a hold of yourself, James.” He muttered, turning away as he finished off his mocha.

Still, he couldn’t help himself as he went back to watching Lafayette.

And that’s when their gazes met.

The Frenchman’s lips curled down into a frown, tilting his head in show of his confusion before he said a quick goodbye to Thomas and started to approach.

“Do you not want to join us, mon petit? I hope it is not because of me, I truly did not mean you any offence.”

“No, you’re alright,” James replied, hoping that it wasn’t noticable how his breath hitched when Lafayette touched his hand, “It’s just…”

“Is something the matter?”

James glanced away, clearing his throat. He tried to force down the embarrassed flush that tingled in his cheeks as he spoke, words not much more than a whisper, “… I can’t skate.”

Lafayette blinked for a moment, and James still didn’t look back at him before he heard sweet laughter bubble past the Frenchman’s lips. “If that is it, mon petit, then there is nothing you should worry about! Come, I will teach you.”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“I will teach you!” The Frenchman repeated with a beaming smile that James just couldn’t bring himself to say no to.

James’ cheeks were still warm with embarrassment as Lafayette hopped over the boards and held his hand, both figuratively and literally, through the process of renting and tying his skates before leading him to the edge of the rink.

“I’m not so sure about this…” James murmured. His steps were already shaky enough as he tiptoed behind the Frenchman, he didn’t know what would happen if he dared to step on the ice.

“Just don’t let go of my hands, yes? I will make sure you don’t fall.” Lafayette reassured, his words gentle and his smile as sweet as sugar.

James nodded, taking a wobbly step into the ice. He nearly slipped right out of the gate, but Lafayette was there, keeping his hands in his tight yet comfortable grip.

“See? It is not so hard. Just follow my lead, I will make sure you are alright.” Lafayette added with a soft laugh and a little smile. Sugar, spice, and everything nice.

James wasn’t sure if his legs were wobbling because of the skates or the fact that at this rate the Frenchman was going to make him melt.

He gave a small nod in response, smiling a little bit as he began to slowly glide forwards. Of course, Lafayette was doing most of the work, but he still let himself feel a little proud that he was getting somewhere.

James let his lips twitch up into a smile as he glanced up at Lafayette, and a different kind of heat flushed to his cheeks at how the Frenchman was looking back at him.

There was a gentle pride shining in his eyes as he smiled back down at James, giving his hands a little reassuring squeeze. He was nothing but genuine, soft and sweet in all his actions and words.

James couldn’t help the heat that flushed to his cheeks again and how his legs began to wobble. Whatever was left of his icy composure had long melted away, and apparently so did his balance.

“Oh Dieu!”

Lafayette wrapped his arms around James’ waist in an attempt to keep them both upright, but the Frenchman had already been knocked off balance. He fell back, landing flat on his backside with James pressed flush against his chest.

They slid to a stop a moment later, both staring at each other with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

James burst into laughter; it was all he could think to do in the moment. The sound rang clear like a bell as he relaxed against Lafayette’s chest. The Frenchman soon joined in, his own laughter a bright chiming sound that tickled James’ cheeks as it bubbled up from his chest.

“I’m sorry,” James began to speak, slowly calming down after taking a few deep breaths, “I don’t quite know what happened there.”

“It is quite alright, mon petit,” Lafayette replied, shaking his head. He was still laughing, though the chime had quieted down, “You did quite well for your first time, you should be proud.”

James smiled more with a quiet hum and a nod in response. He began to shift so that Lafayette would be able to stand again, and in turn, the Frenchman helped him back up onto his feet.

“I should repay you for doing all of this for me… Do you like hot chocolate? I know a good café that’s not far from here.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, mon petit.”

[springday-aus]

Ghost!AU with Jungkook

—

moodboard link

Group: BTS 

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Other Characters: mentions of ghost!Yoongi and neighbor!Taehyung

Genre: fluff, platonic bc he’s literally dead 

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: approx. 1.5k 

A/N: totally late bc Halloween, but better late than never 

Jungkook died in an embarrassing way

not like, on the toilet embarrassed

more of… he forgot to drink water while he was playing some video games….

so……... dehydration

even though he died in the 21st century, dehydration is probably the stupidest way to die 

so he died fairly recently

around 5ish years

recently enough to still be roaming around earth

especially in the apartment he died in

the nice landlady tries to rent it out to other people and while the price is lower

(primarily bc he DIED in there)

people just keep leaving

it’s not Jungkook’s fault but also his fault

like he doesn’t mind having other people

but the other people………. don’t really wanna live with him

lowkey he gets hurt whenever people move out

bc when the landlady asks

they always say there’s a chill that brushes by and it freaks them out a bit

(homeboy is just trying to walk from place to place)

and then how things move without them moving them

(it’s more convenient for Jungkook if people have coasters under their glasses, just saying)

and how in the evenings, the electronics would turn on

this is actually Jungkook’s fault bc he’s in the habit of playing games at night and watching tv until late

so when a tv turns on its own and flips channels and you know that no one else is in your living room……………….. people move out the night that he starts turning on shit

yeah, when your shit starts to turn on by itself…… I would be moving out too

that’s paranormal activity shit

and most don’t wanna mess with that

Jungkook isn’t intentionally pushing people out

it’s just an accident bc he just forgets he’s not alive

Yoongi, the ghost from two floors up, says that it’s because humans tend to fear the unknown

he’s got a point too

that’s why humans fear death—they don’t know what happens after you die

there was one guy who ended up “living” with Jungkook for the longer time period

Namjoon was a good guy

he’s so great that after seven months of moving here, he moved out to live in a bigger space with his partner

Jungkook was upset but he was happy for him, even though he hasn’t spoken a word to him

so that was his current situation: another empty apartment that the landlady is trying to rent out once more

this is where you come in

you rent out this place and within a week, you’re moving in

Jungkook stays in the corner a bit, just observing you

he makes note of your pictures, knick-knacks, and other supplies

it’s about another week or so until you’re settled and established some kind of routine

he doesn’t mind you

you’re consistent

it’s about another two weeks or so until he makes his presence known

one night, you were working on an assignment late at night with the tv on

you just picked something off of netflix and let it play

it was just the soft sounds of the television and the typing of your laptop keys

and then

you felt it

there was shift in the temperature and a chill brushed against your neck

even with your hoodie on, you shivered from the cold

and moved from your spot to grab a heavier blanket 

when you came back from your bedroom, you didn’t notice how one of the throw pillows have slightly shifted over

by slightly, I mean moved over to the other side

you didn’t think much of it and shrugged it off, thinking you might have moved it earlier

the sleep deprivation was getting to you

to Jungkook tho, it meant acceptance

small, but still meaningful

again, you didn’t think much of it

until it was happening for a solid month

even during daytime

so……….. you asked around the building

they didn’t really say much, just that a lot of people tended to move out because of some of the stuff that happened there

it wasn’t until you met Taehyung that you found out about Jungkook

he was pretty close with him, since they were close in age and bonded over video games and dogs

when he died, he actually attended the funeral and it was…. upsetting to see such a young man die

Taehyung: “you know, most people tend move out about a month after moving in”

Taehyung: “they all seem freaked out and the landlady even called a shaman to check out the place because it was deemed as ‘unliveable’”

You: “well, has anyone found evidence that he’s still there?”

Taehyung: “I don’t think anyone could handle it if they found out”

You: this is a bad idea but oh well

so you may or may not have bought a ouija board (you did)

and you try talking to him

you set up candles and a picture (which you got from Taehyung himself)

once the sun sets, you officially start

Jungkook thinks it’s hilarious so he plays along

You: “hello spirit of Jungkook, I’m (Y/N) and I wanted to ask if you are here”

after a couple of minutes of no response, you sigh, feeling ridiculous

You: well, this is stupid

and then

it moves

your eyes widen as your hands push towards the yes

you didn’t actually think you would get an answer so you were at a bit of a lost

You: “is it okay if I’m living here?”

he moves it towards the no

you let out a sigh of relief

You: “cool, so you aren’t a murder ghost, great”

he’s laughing but you can’t really hear him

although, you do hear a faint sound of wind chimes—even though you are very sure that none of your neighbors even have wind chimes

so you “talk” with him a bit more and eventually, you head to sleep

You: “thank you for not killing me and please look away when I’m in the bathroom or changing”

if Jungkook wasn’t dead, he was very sure there would have been blush on his cheeks

so you two live side by side peacefully

you were wearing a lot more hoodies to avoid the cold breezes that pass by

if you forget where something was, most of the time, they show up in front of you in courtesy of Jungkook finding it

when you often forgot, he would help you with

one time you didn’t push the cook button for the rice cooker

(he saved you from throwing the whole batch out)

sometimes you even leave a small bowl out for him like an offering

and, yeah, he can’t eat it but he does appreciate it

it goes like this for a while and you’re both content

and then Halloween comes

at previously midnight when Halloween begins

there’s another cold breeze that passes by and you wake up, dazed and confused

and, in the darkness, there’s a shadowy figure you spot at the end of your bed

and suddenly you’re awake, sitting up in your bed

you wrap yourself a bit tighter in your blanket as you hear your name being whispered

Jungkook: “I didn’t mean to wake you”

You: what. the. fuck.

Jungkook: “go back to sleep”

the last thing you hear is soft singing from an angelic voice before you drift back to sleep

you wake up the next morning

putting on Halloween movies, putting on the Monster Mash, and prepping candy for the kids that stop by your apartment

it wasn’t until Jungkook makes an appearance that you remembered what happened last night

and I mean APPEARANCE

you physically saw him in your kitchen

and screamed

he was just as startled as you

but you haven’t even seen him until today

(expect for the pictures Taehyung showed you, which is the only reason you recognized him)

Jungkook: “did I not mention that on Halloween I can physically appear?”

You: “NO BITCH YOU DIDN’T TELL ME”

Jungkook: “well, I’m telling you now” :(

after you calm down from the miniature heart attack, you get to spend a day together

well, mostly on your part since you can actually see him now

he’s just more…… visible

it’s fun, it’s like a longtime friend coming over and spending the day with you

so you spend the night watching more movies, dressing up (at least, you did), and giving candy to the kids

you learn more about him and it’s a super fun time for the both of you because it means actual conversations

like how good he is at singing

(it’s very clear how much he loves music)

how often he likes to play computer games

his cleanliness

how much he likes the romantic comedies you put on

his weird obsession with trying different ramens

Jungkook: “I had like 6 cups in a row once”

You: “well jesus, no wonder you died”

Jungkook: “stop making fun of me” ​😭​

he’s not sure how long he’ll be here, but he’s glad he’ll be living with you while he’s here

and when midnight comes and you’re falling asleep as Hocus Pocus plays in the background

you hear it 

“good night, (Y/N), until next Halloween” 

[smoochi-dazai]

✿ “ Bare Touch ” ✿

—> Bungo Stray Dogs, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa | reader / @akutagawasbitch​​

—> Sweet | Gift

—> Description | It’s a surprise, i changed my original idea for this. Sorry for any mistakes <3 I did this to win our affection contest. 

No matter how much flickering crimson coated Akutagawa, he couldn’t find himself fazed by the many mangled bodies in front of him. He was a hellhound, looking for someone or something to one day find a method for taming his spirit. That significant item in order to render his spirit vulnerable was none other then you, the women who managed to creep their way into his tar coated heart. Who knew something as fierce as him, could become a mere puppy beneath your praise.  

No matter how powerful he found himself become, Akutagawa couldn't satisfy the drought of his emotions, running dry of spirit. The boy no longer felt the urge to flaunt his power, for his old mentor's affections. At least for the time period where he found his distraction. 

Akutagawa never foresaw this happening in his life, where an angel could purify even a soul like his own. A heart coated with a thick layering of tar, only to puff into smoke and escape threw coughing fits. He could only wonder if Dazai saw this happening someday, the day where he got a woman of his very own. He cherished you, even if he didn’t always express it. 

The fact you changed his life for the better was odd, he was still a dog. But now he felt as though he had a home, besides the Port Mafia. 

Footsteps echo in his mind as Akutawgawa walked out of a large company building. Leaving a purse at the receptionist's desk. He claimed as though it must have been a lost item to be delivered to one of the women who work there, simply returning it for safekeeping, before they could question he already left the door. 

As the door shut behind him, a loud explosion could be heard from inside. The blast opened the door behind him, smoke escaping the now open windows and doors. 

Reaching to his hip, the raven-haired boy takes his phone within his grasp. Flipping it open before dialing a number. 

“ I’ll meet you at our usual spot. “

Ending the call before the other person could even reply, the boy tucks his phone back to his side. Making his way towards a park, ways away from the crime he just committed. 

Normally this park would have children flooding the area, but after the company building behind attacked, everyone flooded out of the area for safety. Leaving him there alone to wait for the person her expected to arrive. Even though the building was out of sight, the sound of the blast put many civilians into a full-blown panic. 

Coughing into his hand, Akutagawa's empty grey eyes meet with the faint glimmer of light that pierced into a pond of water. Allowing even a little beauty to flash in his dull iris’s. 

Without any sign of his guest being there beforehand, a calloused yet gentle-looking hand plunged into the water by someone other than himself. Turning his head, he noticed someone all too familiar.  

You.

Staying quiet, he observed as you seemed to try and grasp the light from the ponds clear waters. To no avail, as expected, your hand only slid right past all the light like a ghost. Unable to grasp it, he heard you sigh. 

You two were alike, yet opposites. He couldn’t find himself to understand your thought process, attempting to figure out your motives behind small actions like this. Both you and he were members of the infamous Port Mafia, not afraid to get your hands dirty to complete a task. 

The couple were not allowed to grasp the light, they dug themselves too deep to surface. Or so they thought. 

Lifting her head, their eyes met. 

Akutagawa could see the pain beneath that shimmer of light that reflected off the water into your beautiful eyes. You made him feel weak, and he hated it. 

He had a longing to be strong, strength was the reason to live for him, a purpose to breathe. Even in a trembling dark world like his, a place he could drown any minute, you still insisted on holding his hand. Reaching deep depths of darkened waters.

He yearned for Dazai’s praise, the man who abandoned him and the entire Mafia on the flip of a coin as he saw it. Without a word, he left without care. There was a creeping pain, but it was only a trivial matter at this point. Finding a substitute, maybe even better than the real thing, here at his side. 

You were better then Dazai even could be in his eyes.

Even if his body shatters, you’d pick up his pieces and fix him back to new. When others trampled over his pride, you’d protect him. Even when he didn’t need a savior. 

He yearned for you, not just your praise. But your body, heart, soul and mind. Everything, you were his desire. He refused to admit the weakness in his heart you’d send his way, the way your smile could falter his clear mind, coughing to cover up the smile you brought to his chapped lips.

Sometimes he would believe you were an illusion, holding his stray heart with tenderness.

“ Yoo-hoo? Earth to Aku, are you in there? “

Your voice snapped him out of his daze, not realizing he had been staring at your form for quite some time now. Akutagawa adverts his gaze, coughing into his hand while huffing.

“ Where else would I be? “ The cloaked in black boy inquired.

Before he could react, a pair of arms wrap around his neck while your body crashed into his. Forcing him to instinctively hold you up, a grunt escaping his lips.

“ You’d be in my arms of course! “ You exclaim happily, that dull expression from before now hidden behind a more cheery attitude. It wasn’t any mask though, that smile was genuine when it was shared with him.

“ You’re heavy, get off- “ Akutagawa groaned, knowing there was no way of convincing you to get off. 

“ First of all that’s rude, second of all I know you have no issues with me being here or you could’ve just dropped me. “

Arms wrapped around each other, Akutagawa shut his eyes for a moment, finding himself in the depth of darkness. Opening them again, he looks at the pond next to them. Gaining a newly found idea from your last comment. 

“ I see. “

Without a second thought, Akutagawa walked closer to the body of water without you noticing, and as soon as you grasped the situation, he dropped you in the pond. It was shallow where you landed, making an ‘oof’ sound as you felt your bottom pressed against the pebbles.

“ Hey! What was that for Aku?! “ You found yourself cry out to Akutagawa who stood triumphantly above you. That pout of yours was always cute to him. His expression remained unclear to you, 

If a thing called heart existed, he could only assume this is what it was. The way his heart would pound at the thought of your praise, your smile coating sugar on his visible skin, the way your lips would melt against his like chocolate. 

He would never be seen like this around others, remaining the violent dog working for the Port Mafia. With you he was normally an awkward mess, always going from cold remarks to instant regret. 

Meeting your gaze was... beautiful to him. 

The sun began to set, the light fleeting from the once vibrant water was now full of nothing but darkness, an endless abyss of shadow.

You’ve shown him something special, for sure it must be more than a trembling dark world he was used to.

Lifting yourself out of the water, your clothes were not completely drenched. Feeling a slight chill race up your spine. Crossing your arms both in order to keep yourself warm and to threaten Akutagawa which never worked but you try anyway. 

“ Do that again and I-... I swear ill make sure you’re the one soaking wet next time, Aku!! “

The night grew chillier as the seconds go by, stuttering on your words while a couple of wet strands of hair stick to your wet skin. 

Your skin began to emit a gentle glow from the moon, almost putting Akutagawa in a trance. 

Looking at your feet now, your clenched jaw and trembling body told Akutagawa that what he did has successfully backfired. Feeling a pang of regret in his heart, you felt something be thrown over your head. Darkness consuming your vision. Uncrossing your arms, you feel the fabric of whatever was thrown over your head, it was Akutagawa's signature black coat. 

Smiling to yourself, you shut your eyes, still hidden under its protection. The familiar scent of Akutagawa was captured in its contents, blood and smoke- two deadly things somehow turned into a more comfort waft. 

Another hand lifted the coat, your eyes meeting with Akutagawa who was peeking under the temporary cover for you. A concerned looked in his eyes was there, but hidden behind anything he could muster up. 

“ Why are you smiling like that? “ Seemingly flabbergasted genuinely by your small smile, you pull him closer to you. 

Your lips capture his beneath the coat, hiding your little scene away from the public along with your identity. His eyes widen, while a blush spreads to his ears and down his neck. Pulling away immediately, Akutagawa has a slight coughing fit. 

Pulling the coat from your head, you slip your arms through the sleeves to wear it properly. That same smile adorned on your features left him in utter shock and confusion. His coat was pretty big on you, but no the less fit well, it was nice to be wrapped up in his coat. His warmth still lingering on it, while he now stood with his dress shirt exposed. 

Pivoting on his foot, Akutagawa attempted to hide the blush against his pale skin. Walking away from you. 

“ I’m heading home, return the coat tomorrow morning or you won't be happy with the results of your mistake. “

Akutagawa loved you so much, unbelievably much. 

“ Roger that, Aku! “ You wave him goodbye, halting as you begin feeling a buzz in your pocket. 

A short messaged left your heart pounding.

“ You look cute in the coat, I’ll see you tomorrow. “

Looking up from your phone you noticed Akutagawa staring back at you, phone in hand, another buzz went off while he started his strut away again. This time he was gone for good, at least for tonight. 

His final words in text left you in bliss.

“ I love you. “

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 26

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (XIII)

----

After Mei Mu Lan had finished the task at hand, it was time for the crew to start filming.

When she arrived at the set, she met Ling Yi Yao in the dressing room, whom she had not seen for a long time. Because she was in a hurry to solve Bai Jieying's matter these days, she did not have time to go back to her villa in Jiangnan Town to look for Ling Yi Yao, and when she saw her again this time, she was actually in a bit of a trance, and thinking of the demented acts she was going to do, she immediately bear-hugged her.

She said with delight,

“It's been a long time, I missed you, didn't you miss me? Ah, no wonder I always feel that something is missing these days, so it is not absorbing your breath, O, instantly feel bad ......”

Ling Yi Yao listened silently to her exaggerated expressions, yet this time, instead of just tossing her aside as she had done in the past, she allowed her to hug her and then said,

“Have you had enough hugs?”

Seeing that Mei Mu Lan was a little dazed, she took the initiative and pushed her away, saying,

“We're going to start shooting the first scene in a few minutes, so go to the dressing room now and get ready.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Mei Mu Lan looked at her back in confusion, she always felt that there was something wrong with Ling Yi Yao today, or had she been abused too much and become a M, she was not used to it when people were slightly nicer to her?!

Tremble……

She was busy shaking off this frightening thought and went to the dressing room and changed into her costume. By the time she put on a red costume and walked out, she saw that, at this moment, Ling Yi Yao had already started filming.

At this moment, she was sitting in a furnished room, sitting upright in front of a mirror, letting a lovely, round-looking maid, brush her makeup,

“That is Ling Yi Yao's hair, it's my hair, none of you should touch it.”

But her sanity stopped her and she thought to herself: It's over, demented people have become the norm, how can I be normal now?

The first shot of the first scene of the 《Love in a Fallen City》is of the Major's wife, brushing her makeup in the mirror.

At this moment, Ling Yi Yao, who has become the wife of the Major in the center, is wearing a fitted and exquisite Republican costume, the maids are helping her to pull up her hair, she is sitting motionlessly on a stool, her face is delicate and numb, her eyes are hollow, the whole person looks beautiful, but just like a delicate doll, from her, no semblance of life and vitality can be seen.

As the most popular film queen in China, Ling Yi Yao's acting skills, surely, go without saying.

She got into her stride well and performed the Major's wife beautifully, acting very well, and after her it was time to change scenes and it was time for Mei Mu Lan, as the opera singer, to take the stage.

Mei Mu Lan went to another room that was set up, then started to pick up her ink brush and trace her make-up in the mirror.

She originally had the memory of the original owner's own make-up for more than ten years, so she became very familiar with it and began to apply it to herself according to the make-up strokes of the Peking Opera.

In that moment, she thought of herself as that opera singer in the novel.

Both Mei Mu Lan and Ling Yi Yao's acting is superb and each scene is shot through with no jams at all.

So it was soon time for the second act of the day's filming, this time outdoors. The plot mentions that this is a grand birthday party, and as a warlord in the south-east, Xiao Shi Yan has three legitimate sons, the eldest, the second and the fourth, all born to his main wife.

This was a sign of respect for a lady in such a large family, and many of the ladies envied the lady of the Xiao Sheng Banquet because she was respected by her husband, who gave him three sons, and at the same time, her three sons, all of whom were competitive, had now entered the army and enjoyed high official positions.

But, in fact, in addition to his three sons, Xiao Shi Yan also had a dozen sons with seven beautiful concubines. Every year, when he returned from war, he would bring home a few beautiful concubines, which were then secretly disposed of by his main wife, if they did not look good, to maintain the balance of numbers in the house.

And the thing, to outsiders, is that this warlord's wife, with her tact and scheming, is a model for everyone.

And, this time, it was his eldest son's wife's birthday party.

The warlord Xiao Da Shao, the strongest and best looking, has inherited the trait of Xiao's father, that is, he is good at beauty and cannot walk away when he sees a beautiful woman.

Fortunately, this current lady of his was not of low status, so although he did not see eye to eye with her, the respect that should be given was still given.

So, on his wife's birthday, Young Master Xiao invited guests and opened a grand birthday party.

And it was at such a grand banquet that the Second Young Lady, one of the female leads of this story, first met one of the other female leads, the opera singer of the troupe.

For this shoot, Miss S. had the whim to replace the names of the characters in the novel with pseudonyms for the actors' names, because in the novel, there are basically only codenames like "Lady" and "Opera Singer", with the madam's name mentioned once and the opera singer's, from the beginning to the end, was never mentioned by name.

And so, Miss S, set the lady, named Ling Yao; and the opera singer, named Mei Lan.

At this birthday banquet held in the morning, Ling Yao sat beside the Eldest Young Lady and watched a woman in red on the stage, who was performing a play by Ying Ying, her singing voice was melodious, her body was dancing, her movements were inexpressibly beautiful and moving.

Ling Yao is a person who likes literature and arts, she had also heard this play, and heard it many times, but this was the first time she saw such a good singer, she couldn't help but look at it a few more times, and it was these few glances that made the First Young Lady see it, so she said,

“What is the reason why my sister is looking at this opera singer so much?”

Ling Yao and this young lady were not on good terms, and she did not know why this person was asking her such a question, but she still answered honestly,

“I've seen this play many times in Shu, but I've never seen it sung so well, it's really a rare person, sister.”

The First Young Lady smiled, a look flickered in her eyes, as if she had not expected her concern to be so, and she said again,

“This is the pillar of the Lin Lang troupe, who has just come over from the North for a few days, but her reputation is very strong, and it is said that she has had as many as five guests.”

When the other ladies heard what was said over here, their hearts had long been filled with discontent with this opera singer, whom they had actually known for a long time, as their own husbands had spent much less time resting at home these days.

They had thought that their husbands were busy with military affairs, but at one point they felt something was wrong and asked the other underlings, only to learn that they had all run off to this new opera singer's side.

The women were not angry, but their husbands were in the mood for it, so they could not persuade them directly, lest they hurt the relationship between them.

At this time, seeing that the Second Young Lady Xiao, who seldom spoke out, had spoken up, and that she had the highest origin among all the ladies, they all looked at each other for a few moments, intending to put the matter on this lady and let her take the blame.

So, these ladies changed their posture from today's idle talk and began to chatter and sing about this woman's evil deeds, their words were so unpleasantly tight that Ling Yao's brow furrowed as she listened to their words.

Seeing her like this, the young lady thought her words had worked and smiled at the maid beside her, saying,

“Go and summon the opera singer who has just stepped down.”

The tone, disdainful and malicious, was like ordering a dog around.

Ling Yao was not clear about these ladies' intentions at the moment. She had just frowned because their words were too unpleasant for her, a woman who had been educated as a traditional woman since childhood, to bear.

She watched in a daze as these ladies sang and sang, then called for the opera singer.

Ling Yao looked at the woman who had taken off her makeup, and in keeping with the posture of a woman of the family, she didn't look at her face in depth and carefully, but only stared at her body seriously, thinking that this woman had a really good figure, and that a casual stand here made the heart feel tingly.

She was dumbfounded, while the other ladies, who had intended to watch the show, were not so happy.

How come Ling Yao is still on the outside looking in when all the people are there and the audience is here?

The eldest young lady still knows a few things about this sister-in-law; to put it bluntly, she is sour and has a bad brain.

Seeing that there was no point in standing around like this, she instructed Mei Lan,

“Raise your head.”

Mei Lan's body trembled at the words, and she looked up softly, with a look of fear and dread in her eyes, and although that face was certainly attractive, with such an expression, even the greatest interest was gone.

She was about to wave her hand to signal the person to stand down when Ling Yao spoke up. The ladies' spirits were shaken and they thought: Here it comes, here it comes, the good show is about to start, so this Xiao Er Shao is not brain-damaged, but just rather slow to react now.

As soon as Ling Yao's words hit the ground, Mei Lan's body trembled and she carefully raised her head to look at her, mumbling her lips as she asked,

“Lady, you called me, what do you want.”

Seeing her tender face, Ling Yao couldn't help but ask,

“I wonder how old you are now?”

Mei Lan lowered her eyebrows and eyes and whispered,

“I am a young woman of sixteen years of age.”

Ah, sixteen years old, how young, to be so well practiced in opera at such a young age is considered talented.

With this in mind, the Lady took off the turquoise bracelet on her wrist and handed it to the maid at her side, her chin gesturing to her, and looked at Mei Lan.

Her maid had been by her side for many years and had grown up together, so naturally the relationship was not ordinary, and after all these years as master and servant, there was a certain tacit understanding.

When the maid saw this look on her face, she smiled and answered in the affirmative, walked down the steps and bestowed the jade bracelet on Mei Lan, saying with a smile on her face,

“Here, this is our lady's reward for you, take it.”

Mei Lan was puzzled, she was ready to be beaten, how could this lady not follow the usual rules, and gave her such a nice jade bracelet, it looked like it cost several thousand taels, enough to feed and drink for the rest of her life.

The other ladies, who had originally planned to watch a good show, almost fainted from anger at Ling Yao when they saw the situation.

The young lady's face stiffened as she said with a fake smile,

“What does this mean, sister?”

Ling Yao smiled gently and said,

“This opera singer is a good performer, the best I've ever seen. She is a talented girl, she is so young and has achieved so much, her future success will not be underestimated.”

The Eldest Lady: "......"

All the ladies: "......"

Mei Lan: "......"

Mei Lan stepped backwards and backed away with a mocking smile on her face, it was a scene that she had faced many times in the years since she had become famous, but this time, it came as a big surprise to her, a wicked grin on her lips.

She thought: This lady is really interesting, the wife of the second young master Xiao, the golden master who throws money around, they are similar as a couple, they are not stingy in mixing, It was so ...... irritating to watch, I wanted to take the warm expression on her face and break it to see how much more interesting it must be then.

"Cut," the director shouted, and the second act of the day was over. The crowd breathed a sigh of relief, as it was still very difficult to shoot in such a hot day, and when they saw the interval, they immediately retreated to the side, drinking water and fanning themselves.

Mei Mu Lan walked to the dressing room. Because of her friendship with Miss S, she was assigned a separate dressing room by the crew, but after considering the filming expenses, this dressing room, at the same time, was occupied by Ling Yi Yao, who is the most famous.

In a nutshell: they both share the same dressing room.

When Mei Mu Lan entered the room, Ling Yi Yao was wearing a white loincloth, tilting her head back and drinking mineral water.

Perhaps it was because of the haste with which she drank, the mellow droplets of water fell down her neck and into her clothes.

Thus, in the dressing room, in addition to a sound of drinking water, there was another sound of swallowing.

Ling Yi Yao gave Mei Mu Lan a lazy, seductive look with her eyes half-opened.

When she saw Mei Mu Lan's eyes glowing at her at this moment, she did not petrify herself as she had done before, but curled her lips into a light smile, and immediately after seeing this smile, as if she had received instructions, Mei Mu Lan pounced on her as soon as she could.

As a result, Ling Yiyao skillfully carried her in her hand and brought her down to stand by the corner.

Mei Mu Lan closed her eyes tightly, covered her chest with her hands and said,

“Come on, I knew this day would come sooner or later.”

As soon as she said that, she undid her top drawstring.

Ling Yi Yao: “……”

The pace stumbled, and it was true that she was still underestimated.

[five-rivers]

Sleep Paralysis

Gift fic for @sporks-metal!  

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William Lancer had never been a superstitious man. He enjoyed reading about the supernatural, true, about mythology, legends, folklore, but he wasn't superstitious.

In Amity Park, believing in ghosts did not count as superstition. It was simply common sense.

Even so, this was pushing the limits of common sense. The almost-empty salt container rattled softly in his hand as he shook out the last few grains. Sweeping all this up, each white line he had drawn at every threshold and every windowsill would be a pain. A greater pain than the splinters and thorns he had picked up from the 'sacred trees' he had alternately planted in his yard and cut up to hang over his doorways.

William didn't have a choice. He was at his wits end, and he was being haunted.

He was being haunted, and the normal methods of dealing with such things hadn't done a thing. Of course, the 'normal methods' were 'wait for Phantom to show up' and 'call the Fentons,' so he wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting.

The teenage ghost didn't exactly have a hotline and while the Fentons did, their services had been less than efficacious. They'd camped out at his house for two nights, and the only things they had removed from it were all of his sweets. The ghost had not made an appearance. It (they, she, he, William didn't know) was smarter than that.

The Fentons had told him that he was most likely suffering from a case of nerves or stress (what nerves, what stress, in the middle of summer?) and had given him a small ectogun. On the house. Neither of these things comforted him.

Oddly, part of William insisted that if Mr. Fenton, that is, Danny, not Jack, had been there, things would have gone differently. Differently how, that part of William wouldn't say. When he thought about it, he honestly couldn't imagine why Danny's presence would change things. He liked Danny. Somehow, the younger Fenton had found his way to being William's favorite student, even if he was also an incredibly inconsistent student, but he was also shy, never in place when a ghost showed up.

... Huh. There was something there, but William's tired mind couldn't quite reason it out.

If the ghost would just let him be, let him rest.

William pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. What he wouldn't give for some rest... He'd even call the Fentons back, if it came to that. He exhaled slowly and sank into his armchair, the laughably tiny ectogun balanced on his thigh, his fireplace on his right. He had covered the hearth with salt, too, just in case.

He was losing his mind, wasn't he?

No. Ghosts were normal in Amity Park. He wasn't crazy. He wasn't even superstitious, for all that he was resorting to older apotropaics. There was a reason the garden supply store sold so many different varieties of holly, rowan, and sage.

He took a deep breath, let it out. Nothing had happened yet, tonight. Perhaps the Fentons had scared the ghost off. Perhaps he could pass this night in peace. His hand inched towards the small table next to his chair. He had a book there, one he had been reading before this started...

A fire roared to life in the fireplace. William's breath caught in his throat.

For several long minutes, the only thing that changed was how much sweat glued William's pajamas to his skin.

Then the whispers started.

.

The ghost haunting William was not like the Box Ghost. William could deal with the Box Ghost. He had dealt with the Box Ghost. That cardboard-loving spirit could have been a threat, in another world, in another life (death?), but in this one he was more of a pest, than anything. Sort of like a barking dog. A very small barking dog.

But this ghost, this ghost that William hadn't even seen but somehow managed to turn his life into a paranoid hell, this ghost wasn't like that. Wasn't like any of the ghosts he'd seen at the school. Wasn't like any of the ghosts he'd seen on the news. Wasn't like the ghosts the Fentons talked about.

This ghost, it was more like things he'd seen in stories, in books, myths, legends. Something ethereal, something that stuck to shadows, drove men crazy, stole the breath from their mouths and light from their eyes, or burned down their house while they slept.

Or pushed a person so far that their inattention and exhaustion did them in. If it was the school year, and he had to drive... But, maybe, if school was in session, he would have been able to flag down Phantom after one of his fights.

William's hands shook as he pressed buttons on his coffee machine. He needed to sleep. He couldn't sleep. Not with the ghost always, always waiting for him to relax.

He was a mess, and he didn't know what to do.

He did not save his coffee from boiling over until it was far too late to salvage. He felt sick. He needed air.

Going outside was risky. Too many accidents had dogged his steps yesterday, even accounting for his fatigue, but staying inside wasn't any better.

He stepped slowly and carefully over his salt lines and onto the porch. Fresh air hit him like a sledgehammer. The space just below the top of his head buzzed uncomfortably.

Looking to the side of his door, William noticed that his extra rowan cuttings were all gone. He shivered. He was only wearing his pajamas. This really wasn't dignified.

He was afraid to go back in.

Something across the street caught his attention. He looked up, half afraid of what he would see.

Danny Fenton.

William let his shoulders slump in a mixture of relief and intense embarrassment. What kind of a teacher was he, letting his students see him dressed like this?

What was Danny Fenton doing here, anyway?

Danny tilted his head to one side and blinked a few times. Slowly, William raised a hand in greeting. Danny seemed to take this as an invitation, because he smiled brightly, raised one of his hands, laden with a shopping bag, and crossed the street, walking right up to William's porch.

"Hi, Mr. Lancer!" he said, with an energy William hadn't felt in years. "Jazz and I are back from our college tour." Which was obvious, really. "Mom and Dad said you weren't feeling well, so I brought you some stuff." He shook the bags. "Should I just give them to you, or put them down somewhere?"

William's sleep-deprived brain was still caught on being embarrassed, but he did manage to make himself nod. He had been wishing for Danny to be here, like he was some kind of lucky charm. But... was it safe for Danny to be here?

"Safe?" asked Danny.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah," said Danny. Amusement mixed with worry in his tone. "You really must be sick. You look like you haven't slept in days."

William pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "Something like that," he admitted. "I'm being haunted."

Something William couldn't interpret passed over Danny's features. "Mom and Dad couldn't find it?"

"No."

"Well, maybe some of this could help. Have you tried candles? Or eyes?"

"What?"

Danny's face twisted into a wry grin. "Mom and Dad use modern methods," he said, "and I see you've been trying other things. Like salt, and the holly. But not all methods work for all ghosts." He put one foot on the steps of William's porch. "I can help you set up."

"But if the ghost comes-"

"Hey, I've dealt with ghosts before," said Danny.

William frowned. "So have I," he said. "So have your parents."

Danny shrugged. "Like I said, they prefer modern methods. They don't always work." His head tilted again. "Not all ghosts are like the Box Ghost, you know."

There was confidence, there. Quiet, yes, but... Danny wasn't confident. At least not in class, and... William felt like he was being trusted with something, almost. With a glimpse.

His head hurt.

"Alright," said William. He took a step back, towards his door. "Come on in."

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Danny laid boxes out on the dining room table. "This is just snacks," he said, pushing one box towards William. "Keeping your energy up is important. This stuff is apotropaics, which is mostly supposed to keep ghosts away in the first place, so I don't really know if they'll work." He picked up a rock painted with a blue eye, and a pendant with the same. "It can't hurt, though." He handed the pendant to William. "So, what's this ghost like, anyway?"

Feeling dazed, William just watched Danny take candles out of the bag and stand them up on the table for a few minutes. "When I relax," he said, finally, "that's when it comes. At night, mostly. Sometimes it doesn't. And then it does. It gets hard to move. I get-" He put one hand over his chest, and pressed down. "Then things happen. The fireplace. Stuff gets all-" He moved his hand up and down. Some English teacher he was, he could barely speak. Words escaped him. "What does it even matter?"

"Different ghosts have different weaknesses," said Danny. "Like, if you were dealing with a, um, more traditional Chinese ghost, you might be able to confuse it by breaking sight lines. They only like to move in straight lines, some of them. Feng shui or whatever. Spirit mazes." He wiggled his fingers. "But you've got walls and doors and stuff, so I don't think it is one of those." He stared down at the table and the objects on it, frowning slightly.

"What do you think it is?" asked William, tiredly. "And why didn't your parents bring this up?" He had the feeling that he really should find this whole situation more suspicious than he actually did, but he'd do almost anything for sleep, at this point.

"I don't know," said Danny, shrugging. "Did you ever have sleep paralysis? Or sleep walking? Night terrors?"

"Please don't try to tell me this is sleep paralysis," said William, scrubbing his hands over his face. His jaw felt like sandpaper. "I know what that feels like."

"But you did have it."

"Yes," said William. "I used to. But it stopped."

"When?"

"When I got a new medication."

"Which was?"

"I don't know. Last March, or February."

"Right before the ghost king stole the town?"

"What are you getting at, here?" asked William.

"I think-" The windows rattled, cutting Danny off. "Oh, it doesn't like that, does it?"

William felt the weight in his chest like a stone. Couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think-

Danny pulled on his elbow, and suddenly he could move. "We need to get out of here," he said. "Sunlight."

"What?"

"You never had sleep paralysis," said Danny, pulling William along. "You were possessed, and it wants back in."

"What?" wheezed William, and it was getting really hard to breathe. Black spots danced in his vision. He fell.

"Hey!" shouted Danny. Something like a growl rippled in the air. "Back off! You can't have him. He's mine."

Which didn't make any sense, but then, nothing made sense right now, he couldn't think except for terror.

And suddenly the missing holly branches were in Danny's chest. Danny staggered. Went down on one knee.

"Don't think you can kill me that easily, pest."

And William's vision went black.

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William woke up in bed. In his bed. With the covers drawn up to his chin. He'd been sleeping on his back. He never sleeps on his back.

Other things are off, too. His slippers were in the wrong place. His throw rugs have been moved. A picture shifted to hide a burn mark on the wall. The dishwasher has been run. Several cups are missing.

So are all the supplies Daniel had brought him, earlier.

It was as if someone, or something, wanted to make William think that everything that had happened was just a dream, but William knew that it wasn't. There were too many discrepancies, too much evidence, and, more to the point, he remembers.

He hoped it was Danny trying to cover things up. He really did.

If it was the ghost... William didn't want to think about that.

Should he call the Fentons? He still has their number.

But he didn't know what happened. He could remember, but... it didn't make sense. It didn't make sense for the ghost to cover this up, or to let him sleep. Except-

William nearly threw up when he remembered the branch embedded in his student's chest. That was- That was awful. That couldn't have been real. He must have been hallucinating. He had passed out, right after.

He shook his head. No, this was how people convinced themselves that something was 'just a dream' in movies. That hadn't been a dream. He hadn't dreamed that whole awful, terrible thing. He hadn't dreamed he was being haunted. He wasn't going to gaslight himself.

That thought turned over for a few minutes, then he lunged for his phone.

.

This was stalking. William was stalking his student.

That sounded bad.

It was bad, honestly, but William needed to see for himself that Danny was intact, and it wasn't the school year. He couldn't just wait for Danny to stroll into the classroom, thirty minutes late.

What if the ghost has latched on to him?

But, no. Even if the Fentons hadn't found it when it was haunting William, if it was after their own son, surely they'd realize it.

William just had to see. He'd look, he'd see, he'd maybe knock on the front door if Danny insisted on staying inside all day, and-

Danny walked out of his front door and bounced down the front steps of Fentonworks. He turned and started walking up the street.

Great. Now William should go, Danny's fine, but...

William did not go. Rather, he did go, but not home.

Now he really was stalking Danny, and he was being as stealthy as possible, given that this could likely cost him his job if anyone noticed. Stealth was difficult. Danny walked surprisingly quickly. Deceptively quickly. His half-skipping gait looked slow, but it ate up the ground, and trying to keep up with it left William feeling winded.

Of course, that might just be the effect of barely sleeping for who knows how long. Who knew? Not William.

But Danny went up the street and so did William.

They had almost reached the local park, when a ghost attacked. Because of course a ghost attacked. This was Amity Park, after all. Thankfully, for William's nerves, it was a normal ghost, not like whatever had been tormenting him. He even knew this ghost's name. Skulker.

Which was less of a comfort considering that the ghost was intent on attacking Danny. Why this was the case, William didn't know.

The metal-covered ghost sent missile after missile after Danny, and Danny just. Kept. Dodging. Oftentimes, by little more than an inch.

It was terrifying.

Danny didn't look particularly scared. Which was somehow even more terrifying.

After what couldn't be more than a minute, the ghost swooped low and close, and Danny whipped something white and green from behind his back, and a blue light poured out of it, engulfing the ghost and sucking it in.

Danny continued down the street.

William went home.

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When school started again, William watched Danny more closely. As closely as he dared. Now that he had his eyes open, it was easier to see that there was something off about Daniel. Not really wrong, per se, but not normal.

It wasn't just skipping class, although that was part of it, or the way he and his friends hold themselves aloof from the normal social hierarchy, or how there were sometimes burn marks on his homework, it was something deeper and more elusive. Something more fundamental.

Halfway through October, William realized Danny didn't move nearly as much as someone his age should. He's still. Too still.

In November William found a pattern to Danny's absences. He didn't like it, and he tried to forget. He tried to stop looking, stop watching. Tried to tell himself that it wasn't possible.

But by December, William was fairly certain: Danny was dead.

Danny was dead.

His student.

Dead.

And a ghost, on top of that.

William had no idea how to cope.

But he didn't know for sure. Didn't know that Danny was out there, day and night, fighting ghosts, so he simply... ignored it. Treated Danny like normal. Like a student. Even if he was a ghost, he still had a right to an education, didn't he? Being dead was simply... a disability, of sorts. William's training covered exceptional students and accommodations. He couldn't very well set up an IEP meeting with the Fentons to discuss how Daniel was no longer among the living and how that might affect his ability to learn, but as a classroom teacher and as vice principal, he could make things a little easier for Daniel.

None of this really settled his anxiety, but it kept it at manageable levels.

It helped that his sleep paralysis did not come back. He didn't want to think about that too closely.

But then he couldn't ignore it, because he walked in on Danny changing, peeling off his skin and burning it like flash paper, in an unused classroom, and now there was a ghost tearing up the school behind him, and a ghost tearing up and hyperventilating in front of him, and he didn't know what to do.

"Just," said William, holding up his hands, "just breathe, Danny." He had no idea if that would help, no idea if Danny even needed to breathe.

"Mr. Lancer?" asked Danny. His voice wavered beneath a supernatural echo. He blinked hard, deliberately. "You-" He inhaled raggedly. "You can't- Please don't tell anyone!"

"I-" started William, unsure if or what he should promise. Now that he knew... Did that change what he should do? As a teacher? As an adult?

He didn't know.

Something crashed behind William. Far behind William. Somewhere in the vicinity of the cafeteria, he'd guess.

Something flickered over Danny's face. "I've gotta go," he said. "Please, just, don't tell anyone."

And then he vanished.

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The next time Danny reappeared it was in front of William's house, between two of the holly trees William had planted that summer. He was wearing a coat that was much too thin for the weather, and had a box in his hands that just screamed 'bribe,' for all that it was wrapped in Christmas-tree themed paper.

William watched him through the blinds. He wasn't sure if he should invite Danny in.

Danny was a ghost. A dangerous ghost. Arguably the most dangerous ghost in Amity Park. A ghost that beats up other ghosts on a daily basis.

Danny was also his student, and he was standing out there in the cold, looking terrified.

William walked over to the door and opened it, slowly. It creaked and the cold made his toes curl inside his socks.

"Mr. Fenton," he said, "Danny... Why don't you come in?"

[deviatedwinter]

(Josh Washington x Reader)

Come back

ANGST

Request: A Josh x Reader angst where reader breaks up with Josh after the prank (requested by @frostca11, I didn't know which prank so I did Josh's!)

Word count: 1.7k

Authors's note: Aight just so y'all know: I feel sympathy for Josh and I know that in his mind he thought he was in the right, but for the sake of the angst, reader is going to be against Josh's actions and not understand his reasonings.

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All you could remember was your assailant's terrifying grip. The obsidian eyes of the clown stared into your own as an oxygen mask was brought up to your mouth. The cold gas burned at your nostrils before your eyelids gained weight and your vision faded, his grip appearing to soften as he laid you on the cold floor.

"I'm sorry.." You could faintly hear before you drifted off.

Now, you were in a dark room, the only light coming from a hanging lightbulb on the ceiling, the only sound being a moth that buzzed as it collided with the warm glass.

Your mind was groggy as you accustomed to your surroundings. A thick layer of dust rested on everything in the room except for you.

Where were you?

You had to be in the lodge. There were no signs of any melted snow on your body, so you couldn't have been taken outside.

You gazed down at your body as it sat in a wooden chair, your ankles free from restraint while your hands weren't.

You wiggled your wrists, but the nylon restraining them wouldn't budge.

Oh God, where did the maniac go? What was he gonna do to you?

Fear set in. You unconsciously let out a whimper as you began to struggle.

Then, you heard voices.

"What was that?" A feminine voice asked, it laced with concern.

It was Sam.

"I don't know, where did it come from?" Answered a male.

Mike.

"Sam! Mike!" You cried, your wrists starting to itch from the restricting fabric.

You heard footsteps before their two faces met yours in the doorway.

Quickly, Sam knelt behind you to undo your binds while Mike stayed in the doorway on lookout.

"This guy..he.." You began, still in a daze.

"We know, we're gonna get out of here. Are you alright?" Sam asked, looking you over.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank God you found me." You replied, slowly standing.

"Where's Josh?"

A silence set over the room, a brief glance being shared between Sam and Mike that you almost didn't notice.

"The psycho..he got to him." Sam explained, knowing she couldn't stomach a lie to her friend.

You felt like the world turned upside down and gravity was shut off, your body flying into the darkness of space. The darkness consuming you like you were drowning. Your heart hurt, and tears broke the surface of your eyes before spilling over like a splintered dam.

"Hey, stay with us, come on." You heard Mike's voice, it snapping you from your pained daze. His hands were on your shoulders as Sam looked at you with a sad look as well.

You only nodded, your eyes still having a far away look to them as your mind raced.

If only you had stayed with him, you could have protected him.

You could have saved him.

But no, after the seance, you were dead set on being alone. The thought of communicating with Hannah's spirit took a toll on you. You needed to think, and so did Josh as Chris and Ashley explored the library.

Meekly, you followed Sam and Mike as they snuck down a grimy corridor. You tried not to think about the amount of dust you were inhaling as the particles danced in front of your face.

Then, you heard crying. It was muffled, but there.

"Is that.. crying?" Mike questioned before hesitantly opening a large metal door.

The sight that was brought to your eyes caused your breath to catch in your throat.

Ashley and Chris were tied to chairs, a gun in Chris's hand as he sobbed, a pair of rotating sawblades slowly descending upon them.

Coming in for the kill.

The three of you rushed over, a mix of yells coming from all of you.

"Chris!"

"Ash!"

"No!"

Then, a figure stepped in from the shadows, his mask sickeningly familiar.

The sawblades slowly stopped moving, the dwindling whir of them leaving the room in silence.

The silence was interrupted when Chris pointed the gun at the masked man, firing it several times.

But there was no blood. The man didn't even flinch.

"Ah, Chris, Chris, Chris. You've heard of blanks before, right?" 

Your blood ran cold as the maniac reached up to take his mask off.

But nothing could prepare you for who lied under it. 

The small smile, the glint in his eyes.

Josh. Your Josh.

"Josh?!" you cried, confusion gripping you. Was everyone pranking you? Why would Sam tell you he was dead? What was going on?

"See, did you feel humiliated, scared? Like my sisters did one year ago? It's not fun being pranked now is it?" He wasn't talking to you, but rather the group standing in front of him.

"What the hell is happening?! Because as far as I know, I've been knocked out for the past hour." You snapped, feeling like everything was hitting you at once.

"Your boyfriend dressed up as a killer and has been terrorizing us all night!" Ashley cried from her seat as she trembled.

Your gaze met Josh's, his mouth slightly agape as he was met with your hurt expression.

"Babe..I didn't hurt anyone..I made sure you were just asleep, nothing more." He said, his tone sounding like a child who was just scolded.

"Josh that's still-"

You were cut off by Mike, his voice filled with rage.

"You're fucking lying, Jessica is dead!" 

The room stood still, a breathe catching in your throat. 

"What?" Josh whimpered.

"She's dead! You're gonna fucking pay you-!"

He was cut off as you intercepted him, your hand grabbing his wrist before the gun in his hand could touch Josh.

"Mike! Let's think clearly for a second!"

He was seething, his dirt covered face portraying a scowl.

"You were in on this, huh?! You a fucking murderer too?!"

"No-!"

He shoved you aside before grabbing a hold of Josh, Chris joining him as they restrained him.

"Babe! I didn't do anything wrong! Tell them that! I did not hurt Jessica!" Josh yelled as the two men pulled him out of the room.

Your gaze was locked into the ground, your frame trembling as a hand rested on your forearm. Sam gave you a sympathetic look before backing off to check on Ashley, who was distraught as well.

You shakily ran out of the room, finding a set of stairs before making your way outside. From there, you followed the sets of footprints to an outbuilding beyond the lodge.

"Mike, she didn't do anything, don't hurt her!" Was the first thing that met your ears. Josh, his voice was desperate as he pleaded.

The snow crunching under your feet alerted the three, causing you to become uneasy as they turned to look at you.

"I'm not gonna hurt her you asshat." Mike huffed at Josh before facing your distraught expression.

"Can I please just talk to him? For a minute?" You asked, your eyes pleading more than your words.

Chris and Mike exchanged a look before shrugging and stepping out, Chris speaking as he passed you.

"Good luck. He's totally out of it."

And with that, they were out of sight.

You shakily stood in front of your boyfriend, his wide eyes softening at your presence.

"I didn't kill anyone.."

You gulped, wanting to believe him. Why hadn't you known this was going to happen? What had you missed?

After his sisters went missing he went to therapy. He stayed at an institution for a while. Meanwhile, you responded to every call, every text. You visited as much as you could, and you held him as he sobbed into your shoulder. Was there more you could've done?

"Josh... if that's true, a lot could've still gone wrong! What if the sawblades killed Ash and Chris?? What if you gave me too much gas when you grabbed me?"

His head tilted, his jaw clenching.

"I made sure it wouldn't! Why don't you believe me?!" He yelled, his eyes filling with anger and hurt.

"Josh, you dressed up as a clown and chased me like you were going to kill me! I can't trust you right now, even if I want to!" You cried, not believing what you were hearing. You wanted so desperately to wake up and this be a dream.

"They turned you against me! You're just like Mike and the others huh? Go and sleep with Mikey boy if you don't trust me!" He yelled, his outburst ending in random mumbles as he shook his head, his shoulders slouched.

"Josh.." Tears pricked your eyes "What you did turned me against you. You need help.."

"Shut up! I should've known you were like them! You can't take a joke either! You're a fake! A phony!"

His words felt like stabs in your chest, tear spilling over onto your cold cheeks.

"Josh, you're a good person, but until you get help, we need to be apart. I can't be with you when you're like this, when you think torturing your friends is right!" You tried your best to steady your wavering voice, trying your best to stay strong.

"You never loved me! If you did, you'd understand! Go! Leave me alone! Let those assholes beat me up if that's what, what you want!" He panted, his mouth forming more mumbles as he rocked back in forth in his restraints.

"No Josh, That's not-"

"GO! GET OUT HERE!"

You couldn't hide the sob that escaped your throat as you backed up into the cold outdoors. You turned your back on him as you ran towards the lodge, the bitter wind not hurting your skin as much as his words hurt your heart.

He's not himself. We'll take him to get help and he'll be alright. He needs to take his meds, it'll be alright.

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

Josh gazed down at his blue overalls as he rocked back and forth in his stool, tears slowly running down his cheeks. A shrill shriek sounded in the distance, and he wasn't sure if it originated from his mind or not.

"Please..please come back. I'm sorry. I didn't..I didn't mean it..I love you.."

[tae-cup]

Run | JJK Oneshot

Inspired by: BTS’ “Run”

Pairing: non-Idol!Jeon Jungkook x Runner!Reader

Summary: He never enjoyed running until he met you, sadly, life has a way of taking a turn for the worst.

Warnings: Mentions of disease/illness, ANGST, but also lots of fluff!

Word Count: 3.3K Words

A/N: We all need a little Jungkook in our lives. Alternative Song Alive (acoustic) by Dabin & RUNN

Other: Masterlist

Make me run Make me run more Let my feet rip apart with wounds At least I can smile when I see you

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you paced yourself through the streets of Seoul. The annual Seoul Marathon. You had been dreaming of this for a while. The burning in your lungs, the strain on your legs, the crowd. You loved it. 

Running made you feel alive. It reminded you that you were breathing, that your feet knew the way. Step after step. Just one more step and you’ll be closer. Your water bottle was crushed in your hand, wrist coming up to swipe at the sweat. Training your body wasn’t an issue, you wanted to do this. It started small; around the block and back. Then it became ‘to the end of the neighborhood and back’ and finally, across the city and back. It was quite the feat. You may have almost passed out once or twice. 

That’s how you stumbled into a man that would change your life. Jungkook. He smiled beside you, trying to hold back his competitive spirit. The finish line was in sight, unbroken. How easy it would be for him to cross it before you, but you had been dreaming of this moment; to cross the white line and call yourself The winner. 

So he slowed down, pretending to be worn out. You glanced behind you, but you didn’t slow. The crowd cheered so loud, it was like thunder in your ears. One more step. The next step was fine, and so was the one after it. Then that third step felt...wrong. You couldn’t tell why it felt that way, so you continued to run, step after step. The moment passed, but you couldn’t rid yourself of the uneasy feeling. 

The white band made contact with your stomach and you fell to your knees, gasping for air. Cameras flashed, white ribbons were strewn across the pavement. A water bottle was shoved into your hand and you took it gladly, downing half of it before handing it back. It was a cold day, perfect for a marathon, yet you felt your cheeks flush with heat when Jungkook fell, panting, beside you. 

“Kookie, we did it.” You said, wonder in your voice, as your back hit the pavement next to him. 

“Yeah, we did.” He stared blankly into the sky and you missed the small smile on his face. 

Two Months Ago

The world’s a little blurry. Billie Eilish sung into your ears. You blinked, trying to get rid of the black spots in your vision. Yeah, the world is pretty fucking blurry. You thought to yourself. You would have laughed had it not been for the pain in your chest. You swerved to the side, peripheral catching sight of a wall. You reached out, vision getting dizzier. This is what you get for pushing yourself. 

As you stumbled over, your hands flailed around crazily. A couple people looked concerned, but most minded their own business. Your hands found the wall and you collapsed against it. Except the wall let out an Oomph and was warm. You blinked wearily, not as bothered about mistaking a human for a wall as you should have been. He seemed more surprised than anything. His face was youthful and he looked around your age. You grasped his arms to steady yourself. Oh, so he works out? You thought, wanting to slap yourself. 

“Are you-are you okay? Do you need me to call 911?” His voice was panicked, seeing your face scrunched up. Actually, you did sort of need medical attention, but you weren’t going to admit it to this handsome stranger. You would look like a fool anyway. 

“It’s fine, fine. I think I’m just dehydrated.” You muttered, reining back in your consciousness. The man grinned widely. 

“Then how about you come out for a drink with me?” He asked slyly. You frowned, sighing. 

“Fine.” Why not? 

“Great! But seriously, are you alright? You don’t look too great.” 

“And I’m seriously fine.” You retort stubbornly. “I mistook you for a wall.” 

He chuckled at that and gripped your arm, keeping you steady. 

“I think you should rest a bit. Why are you running so hard anyway? The only time I run is when I’m in danger.” He quirked an eyebrow at you. 

“I’m...” You pulled away, laughing uneasily. You had never been a runner, but you always enjoyed it. When you told people of your dream to win the Seoul Annual Marathon, most laughed. You didn’t exactly fit into the typical ‘fit’ person lifestyle. You liked to bum around your house, eat whatever, and binge T.V. “I’m training for the Seoul Annual Marathon.” You carefully explained. “I want to win it.” 

Instead of a scoff, a sigh of disapproval, or a pitying look, he smiled impossibly wider. 

“That’s so awesome!” He cried. “I’ve never been much of a runner, I hate it.” He held out his hand to shake and your vision had gone somewhat normal. “I’m Jungkook.” 

You took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly. “I’m Y/N.” 

A runner. He basically called you a runner. You found yourself grinning like a crazy person, completely pulled into his carefree and open nature. 

“About that drink...” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, drawing a chuckle from you. You probably looked like a mess and you could appreciate a man that had no regard for that and still asked you out. 

“I’m free any time.” Your schedule was flexible. Work as a graphic designer was never consistent. 

“Okay!” His eyes lit up. “Is tomorrow at 2, good?” When you nodded, he sheepishly scratched his neck. “I mean, I’m sorry to just spring it on you, I’ve got a busy schedule with my company.” He said. 

Jungkook so far was proving to be the opposite of you entirely. Carefree, happy, consistent, reliable. You had none of those things, often doing things on a whim. The only thing that could be counted on was your perseverance. Once you decided on something, you saw it to the end. Every. Time. 

“No, it’s fine.” You waved him off. “I don’t mind. Like I said, I’m free any time. My schedule is flexible.” 

He tilted his head, thinking over your words. You couldn’t help thinking he looked like a bunny, or maybe a dog. 

“Oh, what do you do for a living?” He questioned. 

“I’m a graphic designer.” You grimaced and you noticed he caught your bitter expression. 

“Not what you wanted?” Jungkook sighed as you nodded your head a little. “Yeah, I feel the same.”

“Well, It’s not that I didn’t want to become a graphic designer...I just wish I had kept it as a side project and let my parents talk me into business.” You shut yourself up after that, not wanting to pour out any more of your damaged soul to a stranger. Sometimes strangers are the best listeners. 

“I let my parents talk me into business.” He mumbled, lively energy dissipating. “It’s so stuffy just sitting inside all the time.” 

“That’s why I run.” you answered immediately. “It relieves stress.” 

He smiled softly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Of course.” 

It was silent after that. He wordlessly wrote his number onto a scrap of paper and handed it to you. You murmured a thank you and called for someone to pick you up. There was no way you were going to run back, you were dehydrated enough. He waved as you pulled away and you couldn’t help but wave back. 

“So why do you want to do this marathon anyway?” Jungkook tapped the coffee mug with his fingers. 

You thought for a moment, taking a sip of your drink before answering. 

“I just want to feel like I’ve finally accomplished something in my life.” You shrugged, though there was an air of sadness to your tone. People had always thought low of you. To them, you were just...average. You looked average, you did well in school, you spoke to your parents once a day. Average. Becoming a runner, indulging in your silly fantasies, made you above average. Not great, but just a bit above the normal standards. Yes, you’d been studying in school and passing all your exams, but you didn’t have any other passion. Well, you did, but they were never nurtured to their full extent. So you picked up running. 

“Yeah, I get it.” He looked out the window distantly, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. 

“What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a manager at Bangtan inc.-” 

“Bangtan inc?!” You almost spit out your coffee. “You mean the Bangtan inc.? The one that owns every billboard in the city and invests in companies with a 99% success rate? That Bangtan inc.?” You gaped. This man was successful. Way more successful than you. 

“Hah, yeah, but I mean, that’s not my passion.” He explained. “I’ve always wanted to be a singer, maybe an idol. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve accomplished things, yes, but nothing I particularly care about.” 

You nodded slowly, a small smile creeping onto your face. He was blushing. Blushing! He seemed way too young to be so stressed all the time. 

“You should join me on my runs, they’re really stress reducing.” You reached over and poked his hand. He jumped, dazed expression returning to his usual happy expression. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What time?” 

“6:00 A.M. everyday.” 

“Yeah, no.”

You frowned, sipping at the last drops of coffee in your cup. You set down the cup and sighed loudly. 

“Come on, it’s not like you don’t work out.” You said pointedly. His ears burned bright red. 

“How did you know?” He said softly. 

“You think it’s hard to dismiss your abs? It’s like you’re blatantly shoving them in my face with that shirt.” You huffed, pointing to his white dress shirt underneath his suit jacket. He raised an eyebrow, confused by your upfront personality. It was so unlike his coworkers who hid behind carefully practiced smiles. 

“Would you like me to?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you pouted, crossing your arms and tossing your hair. 

“You’re so unfair.” 

“Fine how about this.” He propositioned, fingers pressing together on the table. “If I go running with you, will you let me take you on another date?”

“Date? I would hardly call this a date.” You said playfully. “And you didn’t need to bargain with me, I would have said yes either way.” 

“So that’s a yes?”

“Of course it is, dumbo.” You chuckled. “See you tomorrow, 6:00 A.M. sharp, you hear?” 

You were definitely surprised to see him, hair tied back and a sweatband on his forehead, the next day. The dark haired boy was wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You smiled at his appearance as you stepped out your front door. 

“Now what are you doing here?” You slyly smiled. 

“Here to run.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Some old crazy lady said it was good for me.” He grinned. You pretended to be shocked, placing a hand over your heart. 

“How dare you call me old! I am not that old at all!” You shouted. 

“Yeah? How old are you, granny?” 

“24!” You defended yourself. 

“Hey! Me too!” He shouted back, though more excited. You grinned. 

“What month?”

“What?” He looked at you, bewildered. You stepped down the concrete stairs of your apartment. 

“What month were you born, lover boy?” You said smoothly. 

He noticeably swallowed, a little taken aback. 

“September.” 

“Year?”

“1997.” He mumbled, now clenching the fabric of his shirt awkwardly. 

“Hah! So you’re the granny here!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I was born December 1997. Now keep up!” 

You started jogging ahead. He muttered a curse under his breath and then easily caught up. He began running a little faster, getting ahead of you to your dismay. 

“This isn’t a race, Jungkook! Conserve your energy.” You called, trying to subdue his competitive nature. He just laughed. 

-

Well you were the one laughing now. He was gasping for air not three blocks later as you continued on. 

“Please, Jungkook, you are a fit 24 year old man. You can do better.” You chided as he wheezed. 

“You’ve been training for what, a month?!” He gasped for air. 

“And?” You rolled your eyes, jogging in place beside him. 

“Obviously you’re better than me!” 

You grinned and slowed to a stand still. 

“I know. We’ll get you there, Kookie.” 

He glanced up at you through his sweat soaked bangs. His slender fingers brushed them aside and he stood, stretching his back. 

“Say it again.”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“My name. Say it again.”

“Jungkook?”

“No, no, the other one!”

“Kookie?” 

Jungkook smiled brightly, his gaze a little more than innocent. “I like it when you call me that.” 

He chuckled as you blushed furiously and swatted at his arm. 

Present

You stiffened, willing your legs to move. Jungkook gazed at you as he stood and you pretended to still be resting. 

“Hey, let’s go, people want to talk to you.” He smiled, offering a hand. The issue? You couldn’t get your legs to cooperate. You just chalked it up to being exhausted, but it was worrying nonetheless. Usually they felt like jelly, but not like...like nothing. It was a numbness. 

“Sorry, just give me a moment.” You murmured. He tilted his head, sensing something wrong. Then he sat down next to you. 

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

“Extremely.” You smiled weakly. You really were happy, truly, but your mind was focused on your legs right now. 

“Then why do you look so...worried?” He gently placed his hand on yours. 

“I just, I think my legs are a little exhausted.” You admitted, trying not to get too much into it. “I don’t know if I can stand.” You said it lightly, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to chuckle. Luckily, Jungkook did it for you. 

“You’ll be fine, come on.” He stood, smiling his bunny smile. 

“Kookie, you don’t understand.” You sighed, covering your eyes with your arm, not wanting to see his expression. “I can’t. My legs won’t move.” 

One Week Later

He did the same thing as you; chalked it up to exhaustion. You even convinced yourself of it because after a moment’s rest, you could walk perfectly fine. Now you stood swung your legs, sitting at the kitchen counter while Jungkook prepared his breakfast of cereal that was mostly cornflakes with a couple drops of milk. 

“Where are we going today?” You asked. You had long since come to an agreement with him that you would only run during the week. Weekends were time spent sleeping in and spending time together. Besides your morning runs, you rarely saw him. His job with Bangtan was booming and becoming more stressful to manage. This meant long nights waiting up for him to come stumbling tiredly through the door and early mornings rising to see him before he left. 

“I was thinking we should go to the movies.” He smiled warmly at you. You liked that idea. It had been a while since you last went. 

“That sounds great! I’ll go get dressed!” You hopped from your place at the counter and left for the bedroom. That wasn’t without being dragged backwards and receiving a loving kiss on your forehead beforehand. 

You fumbled for the light switch and then set to work to create the perfect outfit. Black jeans, a button up white blouse, and a pair of black flats. You placed a gray cardigan next to a yellow one, wondering which one to choose. Your outfit was already dark enough so you settled on the yellow one. It was easy to slip into the jeans, zipping and buttoning the brass button at the top. You slipped into a bra and then tugged the blouse over each arm, moving to the full body mirror to button up the shirt. 

Then panic seized you. Why can’t I button this? It was as if you physically could not remember how to button your shirt. It had been fine just moments ago. You felt a bubble of anxiety pushing up your throat in the form of a sob. 

“No, how can this be.” You croaked to yourself and you couldn’t help but remember the scene from a week ago. It was as if you’d been transported back into that moment. The panic. The futile nature of the situation as you begged for your legs to work. To move as they should for a healthy 24 year old. You shakily brushed a hair from your face and tried again. No luck. Your fingers clumsily moved over the buttons, not able to make the right configuration to button up. You let out a cry of anguish and within moments, Jungkook appeared in the doorway. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, staring at your reflection in the mirror. He glanced to your red eyes. You spun around, open shirt whipping around you. 

“Kookie.” You said miserably. “I can’t button this.” 

“Oh? Is that all?” He raised an eyebrow, obviously still concerned. He stood in front of you and his gentle fingers buttoned up the blouse. 

“I don’t know what went wrong.” Your tears dripped onto your shirt. “I just-It’s like my fingers forgot.” 

“It happens to the best of us.” He suggested, but even he knew there was something wrong. 

“No, you don’t understand!” You took a shuddering breath in. “Why won’t my body cooperate anymore?!” You hyperventilated. 

“Ah, Jagi, you should probably go get it checked out.” He murmured, looking at you with a soft gaze. You nodded numbly, clutching your hands around your arms and rubbing as if you were freezing. 

“I know, I know.” You said pathetically. “I’m just scared of what they’ll tell me.” 

You had looked up your symptoms. Google said you were going to die. You had scoffed at the time, but now you really felt like it might be right. 

“I’ll go with you, love.” He said carefully. He then pulled you into a hug, letting you breathe in his scent. It was safe, in his embrace. You wanted to stay in it forever. 

The doctor entered with a serious expression and your heart dropped, mouth instantly going dry. He sighed deeply, sitting on his rolling chair. 

Jungkook squeezed your hand, seeming even more nervous than you. 

“How long has this been occurring?” He asked, peering up from his glasses. 

“Two weeks.” You answered. 

“Uh huh.” He said automatically, writing down the symptoms. The doctor didn’t look like he was about to give good news. “Well, you’re definitely on the young side, but I think you have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.” 

“What?” Your head was spinning. How? You were so young. Everything went underwater, noises blurring out. Jungkook was madly inquiring what could be done, only to have his hopes dashed when the doctor explained it’s not exactly curable. 

“Well, there are treatments that can prolong life, but it’s not curable.” The doctor tried to tell him. It was obvious that Jungkook was distressed and you were in a state of shock. 

-

Leaving the doctor’s office was grim. Jungkook placed a soft hand on your arm. 

“Are you okay?” 

You wrapped your hand around his, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah. I saw it coming.” You breathed. “Google was right for once.” You tried to joke. 

He didn’t seem in the mood, shoulders tense. “I don’t want your days to be numbered.” He shook with...anger? Sadness? You couldn’t tell. “I want to be with for longer than, than, than-” He stuttered. “than five years!” 

“Well five years is what you get.” You said gently, oddly calm. You had purpose to your life. To live as much as you could. “So spend them well.” 

“What do you want to do?” His gaze immediately softened, his hands came up to caress your face. You leaned in and kissed him passionately. He made a noise, caught off guard before wrapping his arms around you. You moved your mouths together in a well practiced dance. You slowly pulled away, leaving a little space, your noses almost touching. 

“Right now?” You chuckled a little. “Right now I just want to run. I want to run until I can’t anymore.” 

“Then let’s run.” 

I run, run, run I can’t stop Run, run, run again I can’t help it This is all I can do anyway All I know is how to love you Run, run, run again It’s okay to fall Run, run. Run, again It’s okay to get hurt I’m alright, even if I can’t have you Pitiful destiny, point your finger at me (Run) Don’t tell me bye bye (Run) You make me cry cry (Run) Love is a lie lie Don’t tell me, don’t tell me Don’t tell me bye bye