#this is a long ass gif set but it's been FIFTEEN YEARS it's what they deserve <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ahappyphjl]

♡ happy 15 years of dan and phil ♡

[rootedinrevisions]

Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

 Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog. 

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you.  “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable. 

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

[dixons-sunshine]

Make A Move | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Summary: Murphy had liked you for years. However, he was always scared to make a move, too afraid that he’d damage his friendship with you if he made a move. Thankfully, a small push from his brother made him brave his fear, making for an unforgettable moment for the man.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble. I didn’t intend for it to be this long. However, my muse took this idea and bolted with it, and I let her do it because it rarely happens anymore. My first story in a while that’s longer than 500 words, and I’m proud of myself for it. Let’s hope the muse stays for a while so I can power through some requests. Anyways, happy Murphy Monday, my loves!

“If ya stare at ‘er any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole straight through her skull.”

Murphy jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound of his brother’s voice close to his ear. Some of his beer spilled out of his glass, trickling down his shirt and onto his jeans, making Murphy glare daggers at his cackling brother. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is!” Connor laughed and shook his head, slapping his knee just for the dramatics—and to piss his brother off even more, because he found it rather amusing. “You’re so lovestruck, starin’ at her, you haven’t even heard a single word I’ve said these last fifteen minutes.”

“Of course I’ve been listening,” Murphy tried to defend himself while placing his beer glass on the bar’s counter, trying to dry the wetness on his shirt.

Connor snorted in amusement. “Yeah? Then what was I busy sayin’?”

Fuck. “Somethin’ ‘bout...” Murphy trailed off, trying to hone in on his ‘twin power’ to see if he could read Connor’s mind.

“About Y/N...” Connor began, waiting to see if Murphy would catch on to his ruse. However, much to Connor’s great amusement, he didn’t catch on at all. This is going to be great, Connor mused silently.

“Yeah, about Y/N! ‘Bout how she...”

“She looks...”

“Yeah, she looks...”

“Real cute in that dress.”

“Real cute in that dress!” Murphy finished as if knowing exactly what Connor had been talking about. However, Murphy quickly realized that Connor had set him up, and he punched his brother’s shoulder in a weak attempt at retaliation. “You’re a real dick, y’know that?” he grumbled in annoyance.

Connor doubled over with laughter, nearly spilling his own beer. “You’re just so gullible sometimes, brother.”

“I hate you,” Murphy retorted, picking up his beer and taking a big swig from it. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Murph, you can’t say that about your brother.”

The sound of your beautiful, angelic voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he almost spilled his beer again due to being startled—again. He looked up and locked eyes with you, his cheeks flushing at the radiant smile you sent his way as you wiped the countertop in front of him.

“Aye, tell him, las,” Connor laughed, wrapping an arm around Murphy’s shoulder and lightly shaking him. “Tell him he’s bein’ mean to his dear brother. Tell him he needs to quit or otherwise he’s gonna hurt his brother’s feelings.”

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s words, a small, light laugh escaping you. “Yeah, what he said,” you ‘agreed’, placing the rag down behind the counter and leaning on top the wooden surface. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“Nah, I’m alright. Pretty sure Rocco already ordered me somethin’. I’m about to wipe the floor with him once I beat him at that.” Connor motioned over to the pool table. He took the final swig of his beer, placed the glass down on the countertop and sent you one final smile, before looking back at Murphy with a look that the other twin knew clearly meant “this is your chance. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, Connor walked away, leaving Murphy alone with you.

Murphy shook his head and toyed with the rim of his beer glass. It was no secret to anyone—except you—that the MacManus brother seated at the bar was head over heels for you. However, as flirtatious a man as Murphy was, this was different. You were different. You weren’t just some random lady he wanted to charm to get her number or something along those lines. He had known you for three years at that point in time. You had become one of the most important people in his life, and he greatly valued your friendship. If he were to ask you out and you happened to say no, would your friendship be irrevocably damaged? Would you cast him out of your life? Would he ever be permitted to even breathe the same air as you?

“You’re thinking really hard, Murph. Penny for your thoughts?”

Your voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he wished that you would never stop talking. He could listen to you ramble on forever. Your voice was so addictive to listen to. However, he quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself that you had asked him a question. “I’m alright, las. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” you giggled, unknowingly making Murphy’s heart leap at the beautiful sound. “What are you thinking about?”

Murphy shrugged and looked down. “Nothin’.”

“You know, people can’t usually think of nothing, because the human brain, according to what I know, is incapable of comprehending nothing. When you think of nothing, you see black, a void, right? Therefore you aren’t technically thinking of nothing, because a void is still something.” You let out a small laugh at the confused frown that spread across Murphy’s face. “Sorry. I just had to. It’s my favourite response for when people say they’re thinking of nothing. It confuses the hell out of people.”

Murphy chuckled and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Is that true? That whole thing you just said?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m not a scientist,” you replied with a small smile.

Murphy chuckled again. “Could’ve fooled me. That sounds like something straight out of those science articles in the magazines.”

“Why, thank you. I am pleased to know that I am able to sound intelligent enough in the presence of true intelligence,” you stated in an over exaggerated posh voice.

Murphy frowned at that. “Me? Intelligent? Where’d ya get that from, las?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “You’re kidding,” you laughed in a disbelieving tone. “You speak, like, two thousand languages fluently. How the hell’s that not intelligent?”

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. “It isn’t that hard. You just gotta keep practicin’ ‘em consistently. It also helps that I’ve been exposed to those languages from an early age. Anyone could do it, though. Even you.”

“Yeah? Literally all I can say in another language is “bon appetite”, and the only reason I know what that means is because I took one semester of French back in high school.”

“That’s still impressive, though.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile. “No need to try and make me feel better about myself, Murph. I’m not trying to seek pity. I’m sure there’s something I can do that you can’t.”

Murphy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, there’s probably plenty of things you’re better at than me. Hell, I can think of one right now.” Murphy leaned back and stretched, his shirt riding up slightly to expose the skin beneath the fabric, and the man missed the way your eyes trailed over it, and the way you quickly averted your gaze when you realized what you had been doing. “You crochet, right? I’ve tried that before. All I managed to do was somehow poke myself in the eye.”

You giggled at that. “One point for me, I guess, and a hundred points for you, still.” Before Murphy could protest and reassure you that you were indeed talented and that you could do things he couldn’t, you moved on. “But enough about that. What were you and Connor talking about before I came over? I heard my name being mentioned.”

Murphy’s eyes widened at your question. What the hell was he supposed to say? Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? Should he make up an excuse and hightail it out of there? However, Connor’s look from before, the ‘don’t fuck it up’ look, appeared in Murphy’s mind, and he sighed. There was no time like the present, he supposed. Might as well test the waters and see where he stood with you.

“Connor was teasin’ me, las, ‘cause I was busy starin’ at ya,” he admitted quietly, his cerulean eyes staring into yours, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

To say you were shock would be the understatement of the century. Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart beginning to pound out of your chest. However, you tried to school your expression to a more neutral one, attempting to hide your nerves—and excitement. “You were staring at me?” When Murphy nodded, you inhaled once, scraping together the confidence for what you were about to say. “You like what you saw?”

Be cool, be cool, Murphy thought to himself, trying not to expose how nervous he actually was. “Oh, I love what I see.”

See. He had used the present tense. It could’ve meant nothing, but you clung to the hope that it meant something. You locked eyes with him, a small, flirtatious—well, you hoped it was flirtatious—smile spreading across your face. “Yeah?”

“Aye,” Murphy nodded. You weren’t repulsed by his ‘advances’. He took that as a good sign. “I always love what I see when it comes to you, las. You’re a beautiful lady. I could stare at ya for hours.” You giggled shyly and ducked your head, making Murphy smile affectionately. “And that’s the truth. You know I hate lyin’.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. With each compliment he gave you, your confidence grew immensely. “You’re not too harsh on the eyes either, Murph,” you replied jokingly. That was an understatement. He was damn pleasing to look at. You could stare at him for hours.

Murphy chuckled at that. “That’s good to know, otherwise this would’ve been embarrassin’, me makin’ a move on a beautiful lady while lookin’ like a dried out pickle.”

Your heart both simultaneously sped up and stopped. Making a move. So it wasn’t just playful, flirtatious banter? You were immensely pleased to hear that. “You’re making a move on me?”

Murphy readapted his earlier shy demeanour. “Um, no. I don’t—” He cut himself off by taking a deep breath, before exhaling and continuing. He was already in too deep. There was no backing out now. “I mean, yeah. I am. I jus’... I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for a while now, but I was too afraid. I’m sorry if that’s weird or anythin’, las. I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable. I can leave if ya—”

Murphy never got to finish his sentence. He was effectively shut up from his nervous rambling by your hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him up from his seat to lean over the counter, your lips crashing against his for a kiss. This first kiss exchanged between the two of you wasn’t like the ones he’d seen in those cheesy romance movies Connor would sometimes force him to watch. It was sloppy and messy, yet tender and gentle, too. It was perfect.

Whoops and cheers filled the air around you, making you and Murphy pull apart. The two of you looked towards the pool table where everyone had gathered to watch Rocco and Connor compete, and saw that everyone’s attention rested on the two of you, and you quickly became aware that everyone had witnessed the kiss happen. The cheers and clapping proceeded, making Murphy duck his head as his cheeks became ablaze in embarrassment. You simply waved the men at the pool table off, rolling your eyes at them to mask the embarrassment you felt as well.

Game forgotten, Connor made his way over to the two of you and wrapped his arm around Murphy’s shoulder, lightly shaking him a few times, a huge, satisfied grin on his face. “Atta boy, Murph! I knew ya could do it.” His blue eyes trailed over to you, his grin now directed towards you. “Proud of you, too, las. I’ve known ‘bout your little crush on ol’ Murphy here for a while now.”

Rocco, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, hoisted himself up onto the counter and sent you a teasing smirk. “I’m surprised either of ‘em made a move. Thought we were gonna be stuck in an endless loop of lovestruck staring.”

As Connor and Rocco continued on with their teasing, your eyes drifted over to meet Murphy’s. He sent you a small, shy smile, his cheeks tinted with a crimson colour. You sent him a smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest. Let Connor and Rocco tease you for all you care. Your moment with Murphy was perfect, and it was an amazing turning point in your relationship with the MacManus brother.

Now all you had to do was wait for another minute alone, and then you’d definitely repeat your actions, albeit this time, away from prying eyes.

[inkpot909]

Rohan Kishibe Falling for an Assistant!Reader

↳ Reader’s gender is not defined/is gender neutral. Reader is in college and not a stand user.

A/n: ‘roHan KisHibE wOuLd nEveR hiRe an asSissTant-‘ Rohan Kishibe loses in fights against teenagers. He’s been famous since the age of sixteen; there’s no way he can even do the dishes properly.

Warning(s): Swearing.

Rohan Kishibe began the process of finding a personal assistant not a year after Yoshikage Kira’s death.

Not too long before, the idea of hiring an assistant was one the mangaka would openly mock. Him? Needing assistance? Not a chance. His work ethic is unreal; able to disregard what other artists would consider as valuable help. The Great Rohan Kishibe works solo at every opportunity and everyone ought to know it.

Although his reputation to many of the people around him can be rocky, one would be hard pressed to find anyone with the opinion that he needed an assistant at all.

However, the kind of aid he sought was, for lack of a better term, a glorified maid.

The Kishibe resident itself is big enough to comfortably home a family of five, and Rohan famously lives by himself. And completing tasks associated with home ownership had always been a big pain in the ass to the artist. Too much of his time was wasted on ‘unnecessary’ trivials (things others would describe as regular adult responsibilities).

Not only does he lose precious work time to maintaining a house, but also to grocery shopping, sending messages to his editors, and even cooking.

In short, he independently searched for someone to take care of his home and busybody tasks on the regular. Releasing an ad, he felt confident that he’d find someone. Even if the job itself turns a handful away, a generous payload would be sure to entice a fair amount of people.

Trudging through resume after resume, interview after interview, Rohan eventually came across you.

A young college student, taking a small yet steady stream of classes. Your resume was average to many your age, but stood out to him for other reasons. Namely, your application was well-written and to the point (something he had increased appreciation for at that stage in the interviewing process). Not only that, but the specific experiences you have had in the workforce was good insensitive as well. The final nail in the coffin was a general feeling of honesty pooling from your written words. Judging by how it was written, he could sense genuine realness. In short, you didn’t bullshit.

Amidst your educational endeavors, you searched tirelessly for a stable income. Spotting Kishibe’s ad, you resolved it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot. And as fate would have it, you were contacted in order to set up an interview.

Unsure of what to expect, you dressed yourself up and swallowed your nerves. The interview itself was to take place at a tiny coffee shop in Morioh Cho and you were thankful for the short trip.

Meeting one another at the agreed time, Rohan’s character quickly confused the hell out of you (as much as it was intriguing). He’s certainly the type to leave a lasting first impression, while seeming careless to your own thoughts on him.

It was intimidating, overwhelming, and admirable all at once.

Also, he made it clear his work’s extremely important to him, the sole reason behind why he searched for help in the first place. More time to work; more time to dig for inspiration.

His dedication is what truly sold you, finding it weirdly motivating. Within just fifteen minutes of speaking to him, you’d forgotten that he’s only a year or two older than yourself.

That was, until the interview went on longer and he let it slip that certain worries plague him. Especially between chapter releases. The prospect almost made you sad; both his ego and anxiety possibly due to being a well-renown artist from a relatively young age.

Your personal response to the questions plaguing your brain was to disregard them, and instead focus on an expectant Kishibe. His eyes were sharp, looking down at you and impatiently awaiting a response to a question you completely missed.

You didn’t need to hear the exact words, though. Smiling sheepishly, you reached out your hand and shook his own. In the back of your mind, it was assumed any answers to your questions would eventually arrive one way or another.

They were bound to, considering Rohan Kishibe was- from that moment onward -officially your boss.

And to say it was a rough start for the both of you would’ve been an understatement.

Initially, you were a little shy about making any more assumptions or even observations. Hell, you were shy in general. Adjusting to the new job became a top priority over any curiosity about your peculiar boss. But when working with a man like Rohan Kishibe, it’s difficult not to hang over his every last word despite yourself.

However, time brings with it familiarity. Not only with a usual work routine, but with Rohan himself. His initial sternness made meeting his expectations all the more satisfying. Without a doubt, you were proud of how quick you got into the swing of things.

He prioritized quietness and swiftness, but was also surprisingly fair. Even after accustoming to the work environment, he always comments on a job well done.

Except for when he’s deeply invested in his work. To you, it’s difficult to tell if he even notices your presence upon entering the art room. However, it’s not as if you slipped into the background, but he simply grew used to you being there on occasion.

Months passed. You grew to have less and less questions about a man you no longer called Mr. Kishibe, but instead by his first name.

The two of you don’t necessarily need to speak in order to be communicative. You’re at a point in your relationship now where you found reading into his actions to be surprisingly easy.

That’s an aspect he certainly wasn’t expecting either, not used to such things.

Just the smallest shift of his facial expression- just a lift of a brow -and your eyes light up with understanding. Sure, he can ‘read others like a book,’ but you’ve seemingly mastered the language of Rohan Kishibe’s demeanor without any stand power.

Then he notices that you’ve started doting on him. An extra selection of sugar with his morning tea. Always taking an enthusiastic intrest whenever he shares his art. And a specific kind of contentment or pride you put into your work that he honestly would have never foreseen.

For the longest time, he was adamant that he wouldn’t use his stand to peak at your past and present. His power had grown considerably, and became more selective of who he investigates. However, his curiosity overcomes a sense of restraint on his own abilities.

He couldn’t help but take a peak. Besides, he could find something usual for his writing. Regardless of whether or not he did, he found something else as well. Written in on your second page, his name was the most recent in a list of people you harbor (or have harbored) feelings for.

Rohan can move on after that. No problem. It wasn’t the first time he’s found his own name written down in someone’s book as a crush. It’s nothing to pester you about; nothing to even ponder. Nope. Just go back to work. Not a hint of romance is going to suddenly appear in his manga (it’s psychological horror, why would it be?) out of thin air.

A week passes. Two weeks pass. He’s become a little more silent as of late, but it’s nothing you care to mention at all. Rohan gets absorbed in his work often, and you figure you’ll get the chance to ask him about his work a later time.

Your patience is respectable; it’s downright endearing. But the lack of investigation on your part made his teeth grind together in frustration.

He doesn’t think of you that much. Not really; don’t flatter yourself. His mind just lingers on your memory when you leave. Rohan’s thoughts merely turn to you when introducing a noticeably beautiful character in Pink Dark Boy. And it’s nothing special that he gets agitated when he doesn’t see you for a few days.

While you put him out of your mind (the thought of him is far too flustering), Rohan’s lingers on your more and more. The glances he throws at you dwadle, observant in the way you’ve been for months.

Standing in the front hall of Rohan’s home, your body is leaning against the wall while you pull your shoes on. The sun hangs low in the sky, kissing the horizon line. A pinkish blush spreads across Morioh Cho, dusk signaling the end of your work day. While making your effort, footsteps travel from the top floor and down the stairs.

Lifting your head, a smile spreads across your face when meeting your boss’s gaze. He’s made his way to the bottom of the stairs, stopping a comfortable distance in front of you. “Taking a break?” you ask gently.

“For a short while,” he confirms, before adding in a mumble, “Although I know you’d lecture me about working late.”

“You said it, not me,” you jest, straightening your back upright after slipping on your shoes. You fold your hands behind you, long coat softly swaying as you momentarily rock back and forth on your feet.

“Only so you don’t say it yourself.” Rohan crosses his arms, shifting his weight onto his right foot.

“Because you prefer the sound of your own voice?”

Rohan opens his mouth, only to close it anticlimactically a moment later. His brows furrow, and eyes dart away from your person. Biting the inside of his cheek puffs out his lips subtly.

It’s times like this that you wished you were the artist. He’s so insistent on capturing reality, in all it’s forms. But he’d be your muse of choice. Yet he neglects that he’s a work of art himself, you mentally note with an audible giggle.

Rohan’s demeanor changes, his pondering expression morphing into a curious one. It merely strengthens your smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rohan,” you finally speak.

“Yes, of course,” he replies dismissively, as if it was redundant of you to mention.

Chuckling once more, you move forward. The mangaka’s breathing catches in his throat when you wrap your arms around him, and forehead collides with his chest. The hug is short, but noticeably warm.

You pull away far too quickly, waving him ‘goodbye’ and going on about buying him a St. Gentleman’s sandwich for lunch the following day while walking out the door. Rohan merely nods, watching the front door delicately shut behind you.

He’s stunned. Unmoving in his spot, only his eyes blink dumbfoundedly. Is he really going to head upstairs like nothing happened? Even now? Just continue working a few more hours of the night away? Maybe he should mull you over in his mind for a moment or two. Maybe for a couple of minutes. The way he’s starting to feel around you may not be a problem, but it certainly is something isn’t it?

He bites his lower lip, silently cursing your name. He attempts to ward away the rising heat on his cheeks with a shake of his head. For once, he’s glad he cannot use his stand to read his own mind. Because even without such ability, he has no doubt it would clearly state that The Great Rohan Kishibe has grown much to close to his assistant.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

CONGRATS STAR!

I’m here for Jake and “What are you doing up?” “My personal heater went away.” 🫠🫠

Cassie! Thanks for your congratulations! Here is your cute and fluffy Jake blurb for “What are you doing up?”, “My personal heater went away.” I hope you like it! 🥰😁

I Wouldn't Want This Without You

In hindsight, you should've known that you could take the Texan out of Texas, but he'd never really like the snow. Jake was so fond of you that when you'd suggested spending two weeks skiing in Colorado over Christmas and New Year's, he'd agreed almost immediately. He'd gone all out. He'd booked an apartment with a fireplace and views of the slopes, purchased ski gear and premium passes for the slopes, and done everything. And his excitement was catching. You'd been starry-eyed, dreaming of the trip for the entire month before you were due to leave.

The two of you had driven up to your AirBnB in the middle of a snowstorm the night before. Seeing the fat flakes drift lazily down from the sky, glistening in the late afternoon light, was intoxicating. While Jake had checked you in, you'd hopped out of the passenger seat, your head upturned, letting the flakes dust across your cheeks and catch in your hair and eyelashes. Jake had twirled you about in the snow, a childlike gleam in his eyes at the sight. Of course, the cold had set in later that night, and you’d walked out of the bathroom in a t-shirt and sweats to find the fireplace roaring and Jake wearing flannel-lined pants, thick socks, a long-sleeve t-shirt, and a sweater over it. He’d complained that he was cold until he fell asleep.

On your first day on the mountain, you’d been up with the birds, excitement flowing through your veins at the thought of the crisp, clean powder that had been falling from the sky all night. Jake, on the other hand, had reached for you, grumbled under his breath while still asleep, and rucked all the blankets around his body until all you could see was the top of his head. It made you giggle, looking at him as you got ready to hit the ski lifts.

Jake finally left the bed 45 minutes later when the scent of coffee yanked him out of his dreams. That was pretty much what the rest of the day had been like. You'd had a blast coursing down the slopes, rejoicing in the perfect snow and conditions. Jake spent most of the day falling on his ass. You should probably correct yourself in your earlier statements. Jake had thought of everything on your trip except ski lessons for himself.

"Sweets, I'm going to have a bruise the size of Texas on my ass when we get to the apartment." He'd groused on more than one occasion before he sidled up to you and murmured, "You're going to kiss it better, right?"

And you’d brushed the snow out of his parka each time, kissed his cold-bitten pink lips, and told him to try again. As the day progressed, you’d seen how the cold had sapped his good mood and how he struggled to stay cheerful for you. He’d nearly fallen asleep into his food when you ate dinner at the lodge. When Jake had face flopped onto the bed exhausted, you’d undressed him and tucked the blankets around his shoulders before curling into his arms. You’d fallen asleep soon after him, your body and mind just as exhausted after the relentless onslaught of the weak winter sun and biting cold.

Everything is dark when you wake up. The bedroom is illuminated only by the glowing embers of the fire and the blue glow from the snow piled up on the mountain town. The alarm clock glowing on the coffee table tells you it is just past 3AM. You’re still exhausted, but your mind won’t let you sleep, no matter how you curl into Jake’s arms. Fifteen minutes of tossing and turning later, you carefully slip out of his arms, padding silently out to sit on the sofa in front of the colossal windows in the living room. It’s started snowing again since the two of you had turned in for the night, and you’re content to sit and just observe the snow as it falls.

As you do, your mind turns to Jake. Things hadn’t always been smooth between you.  In fact, he’d hated your guts when you were first introduced to each other. You were a friend of Natasha’s, Phoenix, as her squadron knew her, and she’d wanted you to meet the people she trusted her life with every day. You thought you’d been nice when you met him, introducing yourself and striking up a conversation with him like you would have anyone else. Phoenix had told you he flirted with everyone under the sun, so that’s what you’d expected. But what you got instead was a stand-offish rude man who’d greeted you perfunctorily and then walked away. Your rampant lack of self-esteem had taken it to mean that you were too ugly to flirt with. The more you saw Jake, the more you hated yourself. Everything had reached a fever pitch the day you’d been stood up at the Hard Deck on a blind date. You’d walked up to the pool table, handed Tasha your bag, and locked yourself in the bathroom.

Jake had been the person to get you out of there a couple of hours later. He’d wheedled and charmed until you giggled on the other side of the door and hugged you tight when you finally stepped out. The rest, as they say, was history. Of course, he’d gotten the shovel talk of all shovel talks from Natasha, but you adored him. It’s been nearly a year since that fateful night, and you couldn’t imagine your life as it was before Jake. You love Jake. You love him with all your heart. So how are you going to tell him? You’re not a nun. Far from it. Your sex life with Jake has been mind-blowing. Every time you’re intimate with him, your orgasms take your breath away. And you know he loves you too. So why can’t you tell him?

You’re startled out of your thoughts when an arm wraps around your shoulder.

“Jake, what are you doing up?” You nuzzle into his chest as he drapes the blankets he’s carried from the bed around you.

“My personal heater went away, sweets.” He presses a kiss against your temple before tugging you into his lap. “The real question is, what are you doing up?”

“I just woke up, and my mind wouldn’t quiet down enough to let me get back to sleep.” You shrug, playing with one of the tassels on the blanket’s edge as you stare out over the snowy vista.

“What’s on your mind, darlin’?” His arms are so warm as you cuddle closer to him. “Please tell me, beautiful, especially if I did something wrong. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did. C’mon, sweetheart.”

Your resulting sigh is shuddery as you play with his fingers. “It’s not anything you did, Jake. Not intentionally, anyhow.” You turn in his arms and straddle his lap. His hands rest on your waist as you cup his face in your hands. 

“So, what is it, gorgeous?” You can see something way too close to resignation on his face as you peer into his eyes in the half-light. “If you want to break up with me 'cause I can’t ski to save my life, can it wait until we’re home?”

“I’m not breaking up with you, Jake.” You swallow, trying to collect the words. “I love you. So, so much. But what’s happened, I don’t know if we’re, if you’re ready for.”

You can’t see his face when you say the next words, so you snap your eyes closed before finally spitting the words out. “I’m pregnant. 10 weeks. I found out a week ago. And I know I should’ve told you sooner. But you’re away so much, and while you love being an uncle, that’s different than being a dad. I didn’t want this to be the reason why we fell apart. M’so”

You’re cut off by the sweetest kiss Jake has ever pressed against your lips. His tongue slides soothingly across your bottom lip, pressing into the seam of your mouth until you’re kissing him with all the passion he’s kissing you. You’re breathing raggedly when he pulls away, and you open your eyes. This is a look on Jake’s face you’ve never seen before. 

“I love you, gorgeous. You make me the happiest man in the world every day I wake up by your side. And now you’re giving me a family? I never thought I’d have that happy home to return to before you. I’m going to take care of you and this baby. I promise.” 

You kiss him wrapping your arms around his neck before fishing your phone out of the pile of blankets around you both.

“Want to see the pregnancy test and come to my 12-week scan when we get back home?” 

“Yeah, sweets.” His voice sounds so fond as the two of you go through the pictures.

“Merry Christmas, Jake.” He presses a kiss against your jaw before setting his palm against your lower stomach. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I love you both. We’ll figure out all of the rest of this together.”

Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!

- XOXO Star

[rainyweeds]

Home is where the heart is {Part 2}

Part 0 | Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Ao'nung x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: Finding out the events that happened after you were shot out into space wasn’t exactly what you planned for when arriving in Pandora. But now not only do you have to process all that has happened, but you also have to learn the was of the Metkayina. Which doesn’t sound all that bad when you think about it. Except your teacher isn’t helping. Like at all.

Warnings: Brief mentions of death(?), Swearing at the end

A/N: I left this series alone for over a month 💀 but it’s back now! These updates will still be pretty spread out but they won’t be more than a few weeks (unlike this one🧍‍♀️)

Make up post before I take a few days break to plan out my other works

Italics will be na’vi

15 years.

You have been in cryo for fifteen years longer than you were supposed to be. Just what the hell caused the ship to malfunction while you were put under? "Then what happened in the total of twenty-one years I was asleep?"

Even though you were asleep for fifteen extra years, you still went through the original six to get out to Pandora. And despite all the lost time, you were still technically nineteen.

"It's a long story." Jake sighed. Where was he even supposed to start? So many events have happened in the past two decades. Many of which he'd much rather leave buried in the deepest parts of his mind. But it also felt wrong to keep it from you. After all, you were asleep for way longer than you should have.

"I have all the time in the world apparently." You take a seat across from him.

"There was a war between the humans and the na'vi. Many lives were lost in the process. Including Grace. Quaritch was the one in charge of the whole mess." Jake began.

You remember hearing about how you would probably meet him once you arrived because he was some important figure within the RDA. "And then he came back as an avatar a couple of years ago. Killing our oldest. So the Metkayina aren’t particularly of humans all that much. It's a miracle Ronal even let you set foot here." The atmosphere around you darkened.

Grace was gone?

You sat in silence, slowly processing all the new information. Where did everything go wrong? All you wanted to do was live a simple life on Pandora and a xenobotanist with Grace in the forest.

Of course now, that was impossible. She was gone. Quaritch had destroyed the sacred home tree that she had always told you about. He had caused not one, but two wars between the human and na'vi races.

“Oh. I see.” You continue to stare at the floor.

Everything just seemed to go wrong. So of course the na’vi would be so distrusting of you. Your kind has been nothing but destructive to their home. And you couldn't do anything about it. All you could do was process and continue on.

"So... You somehow managed to find someone who can put up with you." You smirk, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Never thought the day would come."

Jake gave you an offended look as the woman next to him let out a laugh. The girl beside you, Kiri as you learned, covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle. You always loved poking fun at Jake whenever he was on call because he was always the only one who wasn't in the science field. He was always the easiest target.

"At least I have someone. Your nerd ass could never, in your nineteen years of existence, date someone. You were always a weird one." Now it was your turn to look offended.

"Low blow man." You clutch your heart in false agony. The two of you never took any of the insults personally, always laughing it off. "I will have you know I would probably have someone by now if I wasn't asleep."

Jake simply rolled his eyes. You always had a way to lighten the mood no matter the situation.

“I believe I'm supposed to find Ronal soon.” You excuse yourself from the family.

As you walk along the sandy beach, you feel various pairs of eyes on you, watching your every move like you're a ticking time bomb. Just how far did Quaritch go all those years ago?

Not long after your search began, you saw Ronal wading through the water. She meets your eyes as you make your way over to her, keeping a guarded stance when you reach a few meters away.

“I’m supposed to begin lessons today?” You gave her a nod of respect, raising your fingers up to your forehead.

“Yes. My son shall guide you and teach you our ways.” She didn’t take her eyes off you, like you would attack the moment she turned away. “You can go now.” Ronal waved you off as a warrior approached her.

You quietly took your leave, stepping back onto the dry sand.

“Why did you allow that demon to stay?” The na’vi hissed in their native tongue. You freeze, back still turned to the pair. Did they think you couldn’t understand them?

“It was willed by Eywa. She spoke of a human who would heal the clan of its tragedies.” Ronal only sighed a response.

Someone who would heal the clan? What the hell did that mean? Whatever it meant, it got the gears in your head turning. You were so immersed in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the na’vi that you were about to bump into.

“Ah I am so sorry.” You look up. Before you stood a tall na’vi, around nine feet if you had to guess, long curly hair that was tied half up and half down, tattoos that covered many parts of his body, and various necklaces that hung around his neck.

“Watch it, demon.” He glared down at you.

“I said I was sorry.” You scoff, responding in his native language. To say he was shocked that you spoke na’vi was an understatement.

“Ao’nung.” A female voice called out to him from behind you. Ronal stood beside you, looking at the male before her. “You will be in charge of this little sky demon.”

Little sky demon.

“What?!” He hissed. “Why not Tsireya! She’s better suited than I am!”

Well, at least he was honest about it.

“Your sister is learning to be the next Tsahìk! She is too busy.” Ronal replied in a calm manner.

“I’m not? I’m next in line to be Olo’eyktan!”

“And I am your mother.” She effectively shut the boy up. “You will teach her our ways. End of discussion.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, turning from Ronal to you. So he’s the one you’re going to be stuck with? Awesome. You’d rather have literally anyone else on this island at this point. You could practically feel the hostility rolling off of him in spades. He clearly didn’t want you around him and vice versa.

“Fine.” He spat through grit teeth.

You watch as his figure grows smaller and smaller before stopping a short distance away, leaving you to actually realizing that you were supposed to follow him. Quickly jogging up to him before he could walk any further away from you.

“You better pay attention when I teach.” He spoke in English for you. “And no more demon language.”

“Fine by me.”

He lead you to an isolated spot away from the village, a small patch of grass surrounded by trees in the middle of the forest.

"Why are we all the way out here?" You admire the flora surrounding the two of you.

"I don’t need my people seeing me with a sky demon.” He sat down.

“Yeah yeah. What are we learning today.” You roll your eyes, joining him on the grass.

“Sign language.”

He watches as your eyes light up at the sound of it. He remembers how Toruk Makto mentioned something about how the hand gestures underwater was similar to something he had back on Earth.

“We have that back on Earth!” You remember when you’d use it to communicate with some scientists back at the lab.

“Show me.” He watches you move your hand in confusion. He had absolutely no idea what you were saying through the gestures. “Yeah no. That’s not even close.”

Ao’nung watches in amusement as your brows furrow in frustration. What did you expect? Your little Earth language couldn’t possible be the same as one from a completely different planet.

Sure, some of the gestures were similar when referring to certain things, but others were way off. You let out a noise of defeat before taking in a deep breath and finally accepting your fate.

You were going to be here for a while.

And you were right. You spent the next 2 hours straight learning all of the basic hand signals to communicate with the other na’vi. Although you were sure it wouldn’t have taken as long if Ao’nung was a better teacher.

“Eywa you are terrible at this.”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Come on it’s not that hard demon.”

Yeah. You were certain that the lesson would have gone much more smoothly with a better teacher. “Will you shut up.” You grumbled. “You are such an asshole.” The last insult was spoken in your ‘demon’ language.

Ao’nung scrunched his nose in distaste. He didn’t enjoy listening to you talk without being able to understand anything. Especially when it’s the same language as the species that caused destruction to his home.

“I said no demon language.” He gave your arm a light slap. “It’s bad enough that I have to be the one to teach you.” The task if teaching you gave him an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. Back when he was given a similar one as a teen.

You groaned as you were finally let off for the day. “Jesus fuck. That was the worst fucking lesson in my entire life. Shit, I think i just lost even more of my life from that.” The words just seemed to spill out of your mouth like a waterfall. All your foreign curse words escaping faster than you could register what you were saying. Old habits die hard you suppose.

“What are you saying.” Ao’nung simply sat there as you grumbled to yourself. You really were a ‘weirdo’ as Lo’ak would say.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how different the signing is here." You flash him a big, fake smile.

“You really don’t belong here.” He scoffed, standing up to walk away. Leaving you alone to wander back to the village by yourself. "Freaks like you should just go back to where you came from."

There he goes again. Acting just like his teenage self.

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[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 1

summary: Natasha identifies a girl who needs their help and makes a case to the rest of the team. the problem? the girl who needs the help was genetically engineered to oppose their friend.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

chapter list

________________________________________

Three Months Earlier

The team filed into the conference room at The Avengers’ Compound in their usual order: Steve and Vision (fifteen minutes early), Peter, Bruce, Wanda, and Sam right on time, and Tony striding in five minutes late. 

“I have to admit, when I heard you wanted to see me, I was hoping for more of a one-on-one situation.” Sam joked as he plopped down in his chair. 

“Keep dreaming, Wilson.” She shot him a side-eyed glance, a shadow of a smile on her face. 

The room held a strange energy, remaining unusually quiet as everyone waited for Natasha to explain the reason for calling the meeting. Steve and Tony had historically been the only ones to call official team briefings. 

“I found a girl.” Natasha slid a stack of folders across the table. 

“Hey, love is love. As long as I can watch.” Tony grinned. 

“Shut up.” She ignored him and clicked a button on her computer, bringing a set video footage to life on the screen behind her. “Her name is Charlotte Julianna Rossi. She’s 21 years old, according to her Drivers’ License. According to her birth certificate, she’s closer to 100.” 

The room fell quiet, Steve and Natasha exchanging a sobering gaze. The screen on the wall showed several clips at once, all featuring a pretty young girl. Her hair was different colors across all of the clips, some showing her with long, blonde locks and some showing a cropped dark haircut with severe bangs, others showing varying shades of red. 

“She’s hardly been on the radar until the past two years. In that time period, she’s been hospitalized seventeen times for injuries consistent with overuse and extreme fatigue. Rhabdomyolysis, kidney damage, severe muscle strain, dehydration, the list goes on. Every single time, she’s admitted in a critical state but checks herself out against medical advice less than 24 hours later.” 

As the team shuffled through the documents in front of them, putting pieces together, Natasha continued. 

“I found her because she made headlines earlier this year after getting kicked out of Team USA Olympic trials for women’s gymnastics. They tried to cover it up, didn’t want to get any questions they didn’t have an answer for. From what I was able to gather, she came out of nowhere, competed at the last National Championship meet as an unaffiliated gymnast, and won every event with a perfect score. The entire gymnastics community was up in arms about it. They tried to figure out where she came from, where she trained, but there was nothing. No record. Of course, Team USA begged her to come to the tryout, she blew them away. Somehow, one of the families of the gymnasts at risk of losing their spot got her kicked off for use of performance enhancing drugs. The thing is, there’s no record of her ever even being tested.”

“No offense, Nat, but we aren’t exactly looking to start a Cirque Du Soleil Troupe here.” 

“Tony, shut the fuck up and let me finish.” She gave him an austere look as he put his hands up defensively. 

“Since then, she’s won a dozen amateur MMA matches, three boxing matches, and won fifteen straight games of poker before being banned from the majority of Vegas casinos. She’s making her money drifting, picking up random things and kicking everyone’s ass at them. Clearly, it’s not without a toll, if you look at her hospital records.”

She clicked a button and the screen shifted, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. A grainy document had been scanned in, the HYDRA symbol emblazoned on the top of the letterhead. 

“Project Mockingbird. It was pioneered two years after the Winter Soldier project. Specifically, it was initiated only ten days after a record seventeen HYDRA agents were critically injured trying to contain their primary test subject during an attempted escape.” 

Wanda spoke slowly. “You mean…”

“Bucky.” Steve breathed out. 

“Right.” Natasha was solemn. “I didn’t want to leave him out of this, but I didn’t know how he’d handle it. I figured it was better to tell him once we have more information.” 

Steve nodded, brow knit together in concern. 

“Okay, so I think I’m tracking all of this, but if you could - just so I’m clear, what exactly does all of this mean?” Peter leaned forward nervously. 

Taking a deep breath, Natasha answered. “This is just a hypothesis, but I don’t see much wiggle room. It appears that when HYDRA was working on the Winter Soldier project, on Bucky…they had difficulties containing him. Controlling him. When it became apparent that ordinary agents couldn’t do it, they took to experimenting on others. Orphans, mainly. People no one would miss. Trying to create something…someone to be able to stand against him.”

She pulled out a chair and sat for the first time, regarding all of them seriously. “They had dozens of test subjects. The majority of them didn’t survive the initial round of experimentation. A few others suffered complications in cryo. She’s the only one left.”

“Forgive me for being so forward,” Vision spoke up. “But, if I’m understanding correctly, we have reason to believe that Ms. Ross, she was created to oppose Sergeant Barnes.” 

“Yes.” Natasha avoided Steve’s eyes like her life depended on it. “I believe that Charlotte Julianna Rossi was enhanced by HYDRA as a sentient weapon with the primary purpose being containment and control of The Winter Soldier.” 

Present Day

“Thank you.” Natasha gave a polite smile to the driver as he opened the car door for her to step out. They’d arrived at the Wynn, one of - if not the nicest hotels on the Las Vegas strip. 

She’d wasted no time after the mission was approved, spending the majority of the flight putting on full glam and finishing it off with the perfect red lip. Black cocktail dress, gold heels that caught and reflected all the Vegas lights, studded clutch purse with cash, lipstick, and a pistol. Tony had offered to book her a hotel room through his connections, but she’d waved him off. 

They’d be back in New York by sunrise. 

It didn’t take long for her to locate Charlotte. Though 8pm was early by Vegas accounts, the casino was lively. Natasha dodged several attempted pick-up attempts by drunken gamblers as she wove through the tables to her end destination: the high stakes room. A sultry smile paired with her low cut dress made quick work of gaining entry. It wasn’t unusual for beautiful women to be welcomed into the high stakes room. The only thing rich men loved more than blowing money was doing it in front of a pretty audience. Nat slipped into the intimate room, the air full of cigar smoke and jazz music. 

Seated at a small table was a pretty brunette, eyes dark with smudged shadow and lips glossy. A martini sat in front of her, completely untouched, judging by the lack of a gloss print on the rim. Charlotte tapped the table in front of her, signaling for the dealer to give her another card. She already showed a nineteen, meaning standard play said she shouldn’t hit. The crowd murmured, exchanging glances. In the betting circle was a stack of $1,000 chips that Natasha estimated to be around $20,000. 

To the shock of everyone but Natasha and Charlotte, the dealer flipped a third card to reveal a two of diamonds. Blackjack. 

Charlotte grinned, leaning back and relishing in the applause as the dealer paled and began counting out chips to pay her. Nat cracked a smile but immediately felt a jolt in her stomach. The dealer had given a nod to the guard at the front, who was now touching his earpiece and speaking softly. She couldn’t hear him over the music, but his lips read clear as day: She must be counting. 

Acting quickly, Nat stepped to the table, making herself wobbly and heavy lidded.

“Ohmygod, THERE you are,” she put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, who immediately tensed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, c’mon, the girls are waiting with the Uber,”

She squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder and briefly broke character to give an urgent look, hoping she’d pick up on the fact that the drunk persona was intentional.

“Oh, look at the time,” She said in mock surprise. “It’s been fun, don’t have too much fun without me!” Her manicured hands slid stacks of chips into her purse, a few falling to the floor with wide-eyed spectators locked onto them. 

“Get yourself something nice, Gary.” She flicked a purple $1,000 chip to the dealer who fumbled to catch it. Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw two men approaching them from across the casino floor. She elbowed Charlotte, who tracked her gaze and clocked them immediately. 

Waving her arm, Natasha knocked the still-full martini glass onto the felt of the Blackjack table. The gin spewed across the cards and glass splintered on contact. “Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have taken that last shot,” She called the apology over her shoulder into the chaos that descended over the mess, linking her arm through Charlotte’s as she fumbled to close her small bag around the massive amount of chips. 

They slid out the door under the cover of the bachelorette party walking past, slipping right into the middle of the drunken parade. 

“What’s going on?” The brunette hissed through a fake smile, keeping the facade up. 

“You were about to get busted. I thought I’d help a girl out.” Nat said through her own plastered smile, eyes darting around the room in search of their next problem. 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. That’s why I’m here in the first place.” 

Charlotte side-eyed her as they walked through the casino, still covered by the herd of pink boas and giggles. 

“Stark sent you.” 

“No.”

“I’m not stupid, I-”

“He’s the stupid one. I wanted to come in the first place, it was him who thought the testosterone brigade was the way to go. We can get into that later, but right now we’ve gotta move. There’s two coming up -”

“Yeah, six o’clock. Two more probably waiting around the corner up ahead. If we cut through the floor, we can make it to the cashier before they get to us.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, impressed at how they jumped to the same wavelength. “You still want to cash out?”

Charlotte grinned, a wild gleam in her eye. “Duh.” 

A few minutes later, they’d steered the group of girls to the cashier and fanned them out so that each of the six windows had two girls standing in front of it. Each of them with roughly $4,000 worth of chips in their hands. They got through the exchanges in record time, leaving the bachelorettes in a flurry of drunken “iloveyou’s” with a stack of bills to show their appreciation for the help. 

“That should cover the rest of their weekend.” Nat smirked as they strode quickly to the lobby, positioning her body slightly in front of Charlotte so as not to draw attention to the thick wads of cash she was zipping into her bag. 

“I don’t know, I can blow three grand pretty quickly on my own, let alone with ten of my closest friends.” 

“I don’t think I want ten friends.” 

Charlotte matched her pace, the bag finally zipped. “I don’t even know ten people, I just thought it sounded good.” 

They reached the front doors, nodding at the valet who held the door open for them. 

“I have a driver, this way.” Natasha cocked her head to the front of the valet line, full of sports cars and sleek SUVs. Glancing over her shoulder at the casino, the men seemed to have lost them in the crowd. Charlotte weighed her options quickly, deciding that taking a getaway car with the Avenger was preferable to whatever awaited her if she stayed.

They slid into the backseat of the black sedan, breathing quickly from adrenaline. 

“You’re back so soon, Ms. Romanoff.” The driver called from the front seat. 

“It was getting stale, figured I could find something more fun.” 

The driver’s eyes crinkled in a knowing smile in the rearview mirror. Charlotte had a feeling he knew much more than he should, choosing to live in ignorance. 

“You hungry?” the redhead asked nonchalantly. 

“Starving.” 

_________________

The duo sat in a secluded corner booth of a dark bar. The remnants of two burgers sat strewn across the plates, a few leftover fries getting cold. Natasha signaled to the bartender for another round of martinis, extra dirty. 

“Who knew the best burgers in Vegas would come from a strip club?” Charlotte downed the remnants of her drink to make room for the new one. 

“Hey, I’m no stranger to Vegas.” 

“So I can tell.” She shifted to sit up straighter. “Do you wanna get into your sales pitch now, or should we wait for the drinks?”

Natasha remained casual, leaning against the pristine leather of the booth. “There’s no sales pitch. Just an offer. Take it or leave it.” 

“And the offer is…?” 

“Come with me. Back to New York. Live at the compound. Be around people like you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “There are no people like me.” 

“Spare me the pity party bullshit.” Nat leaned in. “I don’t know the specifics of your story, but I know enough to tell you that we are like you.”

Taken aback by her forcefulness, the brunette narrowed her eyes. 

“Enhanced individual? Pretty much all of us. Dark, twisty past? We’ve got ‘em. Done things we aren’t proud of? Goes without saying. No friends, no family? We have a very dysfunctional Thanksgiving of our own.” She gave a small smile. “Experimented on, dehumanized, controlled, stripped of autonomy? Specifically by one particular Nazi rogue science division?” Natasha changed her tone, speaking gently. “One of my very best friends knows a little something about that, too.” 

Charlotte tensed, eyes glazed as she stared into the dark room in front of them. “James Barnes.” It wasn’t a question. 

“We call him Bucky.” 

Chewing her lower lip, Charlotte seemed lost in her thoughts. A cocktail waitress interrupted with two fresh drinks, setting them down with a smile. Eyes still defocused, she reached out to sip the drink slowly. 

“I don’t think it’s smart.” 

“Why?” Natasha took a sip of her own. “There’s nowhere safer for you. The Compound is literally the most secure place on Earth, except maybe Wakanda, and before you say you’re worried about hurting someone there - don’t. We live with Dr. Banner, who you probably know as the Hulk. I’m sure you’re a force to be reckoned with, but I can assure you that even on your worst day you wouldn’t be putting us at risk.”

She spun the wooden stick adorned with olives between her fingers, thinking. “I don’t want to be an Avengers. I’m not a hero. I don’t want to fight.” 

“Then don’t.” Natasha shrugged. “I’m not a military recruiter. I just remember what it was like to be alone, scared. Unsure where to go or who to trust. I’m offering you a home and a group of people you can count on. Anything else is up to you.” 

Charlotte smirked. “You’re much better at this than the last three.” 

“Story of my life.” She rolled her eyes.

“So, what would happen if I said yes? Hypothetically.” 

“Well, hypothetically, I have a jet waiting at the private airfield. We’d go to whichever hotel you’re renting the penthouse out of, get your stuff, and fly back tonight.” 

“Why do you assume I’m renting out a penthouse?” 

Natasha grinned, biting an olive off the stick. “It’s what I would do.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Charlotte cocked her jaw. “I’m at the Cosmo.”

“Great choice.” She held her martini up, signaling for a toast. “How about this, we go out tonight. Do Vegas right. Do it big. If you have fun, you come back with me and try living with us. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll accept that I’m no better than the guys and go back on my own. We won’t bug you anymore, but the offer will always stand.”

“You know, a bet predicated on having fun in Las Vegas seems like a very unfair advantage.” She raised her own glass.

“I’ve never been much of a gambler.” 

“That makes one of us.” Charlotte grinned. “You’re on.” 

_________________

It was just after 4:00am when their dutiful driver opened the door on the tarmac. Heels in hand, two sets of bare feet walked up the steps into the sleek jet, Stark Industries emblazoned on the side. 

“I still can’t believe they kicked us out.” Charlotte rubbed her temples as she sunk into the white leather seat. 

“Well they don’t really encourage doing backflips off of the craps table.” Natasha sat down across from her. 

“Here I thought Vegas was the one place where anything goes.” She dropped her purse on the table in front of them, the thud echoing in the empty cabin. “At least we made out alright.” 

“I expect a cut for saving your ass.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

“You like pancakes?” Natasha punched a few buttons on a screen embedded in the wall.

“Um, who doesn’t?” 

Grinning, the redhead slid her feet onto the seat, getting comfortable. “They’ll be ready in fifteen. Probably best if we get something in our stomachs besides tequila.”

“If I knew you were offering private jets and pancakes at four in the morning, I might have been an easier sell.” 

“What are you talking about? You hardly put up a fight.” She winked. 

“Whatever, you won fair and square. I’m just holding up my end of the deal.” Charlotte tucked her knees under her, relaxing into the chair as the plane ascended.

“We’ve got a couple hours back to New York. Eat, rest, and we’ll be there before you know it. If you aren’t up for meeting people when we land, I’ll sneak you to your room. You can socialize when you’re not coming off of an all-night bender.” 

“What, you don’t think I’d make a good first impression right now?” She joked, fully aware of her smeared eye makeup and tousled hair. 

“Au contraire, I think you’d make too good of an impression. I’m just trying to give the guys a fighting chance here.”

Giggles subsiding, Charlotte looked out the window at the pinpricks of light shrinking beneath them. The smell of pancakes and overly sweet syrup filled the air as a stewardess wheeled the food out towards them. 

“Natasha?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you came.” 

She smiled, warmth extending to her eyes. 

“Me too.”  

[fearthereaperx]

WHERE: Stargaze Station WHEN: October 2000

Michael Monroe didn’t have the slightest comprehension of what he was doing, though judging by the stern set of his jaw and his steady, forward facing eyes, no one would have ever known. It was only apparent in the little tells– the way he occasionally reached up to scratch at the stubble lining his jaw, or how his hands tensed with a reflexive need for a cigarette. To anyone else, Michael would have appeared as calm and composed as he always was, but inside? He was reeling.

He didn’t know how to be a father. How could he when he’d never had an example to follow? Without that blueprint in mind, Michael had no idea how to confront his new reality– the one in which his sister had overdosed on heroin and god only knew what else, and he’d been called upon to pick up the pieces. He hardly knew where to begin, but as he glanced over at his fifteen year old now motherless nephew and noted the way the glow of moonlight betrayed the smallest glimpses of the grief that consumed the boy, Michael knew that he had to try.

He just didn’t know where to start.

Admittedly, Michael didn’t know much about Cole, and he knew that was largely by his own doing. When Diana had told him she was pregnant all those years ago and who the father was, Michael had done what any brother would have. He’d gotten her the fuck out of Tonopah Valley. And then he’d done the thing he doubted he’d ever fully forgive himself for– he’d stepped back. He’d stepped back and let Diana fend for herself hundreds of miles away when she hadn’t been in a position to do it.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty– naturally– and as Michael looked back, he knew the decision he’d made hadn’t been the right one. He’d allowed selfishness to guide it– the Sons of Silence had been in its infancy and he, along with the other founding members, had desperately been chasing that dream into a reality. The short and long of it was that he’d pushed all of his focus at the club, rather than his own flesh and blood.

"See that?” Michael began, gesturing up at one of the constellations overlooking the valley. “That's Orion, and just below him, there’s Sirius, one of the brightest stars we can see from down here. Something, ain't it?" He’d always liked the stars, for more reasons than he could possibly name. They were a nice reminder of how vast the universe really was, and how small he was in comparison. In a lot of ways, it helped him scale his problems, one by one. Not make light of them, no, but place them in a way that made it all seem that much easier to manage.

"Guess so,” came the mumbled reply from the teen at his side.

One thing he’d noticed about Cole? He didn’t say much. And that was fine– Michael had grown quite accustomed to leading conversations over the years and had learned to take certain cues for exactly what they were. Glancing over at his nephew, he eased out a long sigh and reached into the inside pocket of his cut, hauling out a worn pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter. Setting a smoke between his lips, he offered another to Cole, already hearing Laura scolding him inside his head, but for half a heartbeat? He didn’t think about the consequences– particularly how much Laura would have his ass for offering their nephew a smoke– but perhaps that was because it didn’t take a genius to realize that Cole had already smoked his fair share.

"Y'know why I like coming out here?" Michael continued, picking up where Cole’s silence had left off. “When I’m at my worst, I like to look up there,” he paused then, gesturing up at the deep indigo night sky and the bright stars that dappled it. “For every star I see, I try to think of something good. It’s almost like I sorta assign ‘em, in a way,” he explained, shrugging a shoulder. When he said it out loud, Michael figured it probably sounded silly, and maybe it was to a degree, but it helped steady him when little else seemed to work. “When I need reminding of everything that’s good in the middle of everything bad, and I need something to ground me? I just look up, and I can name ‘em one by one.” Perhaps it was just a more elaborate way of saying count your blessings, especially in a life that afforded so few of them. 

"But more than that, you see how vast all of that is? Reminds me of how small I am,” he started again, hoping that the message was coming across the way that Cole needed to hear it. "Not insignificant, no. But it’s got a way of putting things into perspective– makes you realize just how much of this world is out of your control.” If he wanted Cole to take anything away from his monologue, it was that, because he knew what his nephew was thinking, what he was feeling, without him uttering a single word. There was a name for that weight he saw in Cole’s eyes. It wasn’t just sadness, or grief. It was guilt– something Michael knew so well and could spot from miles away. In this situation, it wasn’t justified– Cole hadn’t done anything wrong, he hadn’t let his mother down in some way– but still, Michael could understand why the boy felt it anyway. It was the way he was wired. Like Michael, Cole felt everything so deeply– whatever emotion it was, he tapped into the deepest parts of it and felt it on a visceral level…and because of that, Cole would always be in pain, just as Michael was.

Peeling his eyes away from the night sky, he eyed Cole, a soft frown sinking between his brows, "What happened with your mom wasn’t your fault, Cole. You know that, right?"

Beside him, the boy unleashed a smoke stained sigh and shrugged, "Ain't so sure," he muttered, head shaking before he swallowed hard and dropped his gaze.

“I am,” Michael countered, glancing down at him with a raised brow, “If that means something to you.” He liked to think that it did if only because he hoped it might bring Cole some measure of comfort. Maybe it might relieve him of some of the weight he carried on his shoulders. "Your mother was a complicated woman," he continued, sighing heavily, "Complicated kinda runs in our blood, in case you hadn't figured that out already." He’d never known a Monroe to live simply, or breathe easily. It just wasn’t in their DNA, he was convinced of it. They were all complicated people, stubborn, and hard to love, and yet somehow, they carried on. Softening then, Michael found himself smiling in spite of the somber turn the conversation had taken, "But one thing that wasn't complicated was the love she had for you. It was the single most straightforward thing about her." 

Admittedly, Michael and Diana had grown apart over the years, and it was something he wasn’t proud of. It haunted him, really– if he was being completely honest about it. But on those rare occasions when they did talk and catch up, all Diana ever talked about was her son. It wasn’t about the big things though– no, Diana told him about the finer things, those that required a keen eye to pick up on. She told him all about Cole’s expressions and what certain ones meant, and about how she’d always known when something was bothering him when the way the warmth of his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Diana saw all the things Cole probably thought she didn’t– because she loved him. 

"Your mom had a passion for life unlike anything I've ever seen,” Michael murmured, raising his cigarette to his lips and inhaling a long drag.

“So why’d she run from it?” Cole fired back without missing a beat. 

It was a fair shot, Michael figured. Diana’s death looked an awful lot like a suicide, but he had a hard time believing that his sister had set out to end her life. He wanted to believe it was a miscalculation, an honest mistake on her part. Or maybe that was just what Michael kept telling himself to hold his own guilt back. After being so absent from Diana’s life for so long, how would he even recognize the difference? “I don’t think she meant to, Cole,” he offered, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more– Cole, or himself.

“How ya figure?”

It was a loaded question, but not an unexpected one. The bitterness sneaking in between each word wasn’t unexpected either. Michael shook his head, knowing neither one of them would ever know for sure, but he liked to think Diana hadn’t done it on purpose. That reality was one he couldn’t bear to stomach. “Because she would’ve never left you intentionally, no matter how awful things got,” he offered, shrugging a shoulder. Michael had to believe that the love Diana had for her son outweighed her demons, but even as he sat there, trying to convince Cole of that, he knew just how troubled his sister had been– how deeply she hurt. 

“It’s easy to feel angry. In your shoes? Hell, I’d probably feel the same way. Feels easier than facing the hurt, sure,” Michael started up again, switching gears the slightest bit. He couldn’t take back what happened to Diana, nor could he explain it. But what he could do was try and get through to his nephew– a boy who knew more hurt than he should ever have to and who’d been forced to grow up long before he was ever supposed to. “But hurt ain’t a bad thing– not if you grow from it. And you’ve got a real shot at doin’ that now.”

Still, even as he said it, Michael knew that was easier said than done. Diana had been all Cole had ever known for his entire life and within an instant, she was gone and his world had flipped on its axis. He’d been sent to live across the country with an aunt and uncle he didn’t know. He could only imagine how overwhelming it was, how angering and frightening. Whatever Cole felt, Michael figured he had full rights to it. “I know your world’s been flipped upside down, son,” he murmured, reaching over to tuck an arm around the teen’s shoulders, “You’ve got every right to be twisted up, spun out– whatever the case may be.” But he didn’t want those feelings to bulldoze the warmer memories of his mother. Cole deserved a softer landing than that– he deserved to think about his mother and not hate every second of it, or hurt. It wouldn’t happen overnight, Michael knew that, but he hoped that one day, Cole could remember the good before the bad– the beginning before the end.  “I ain’t ever gonna tell you how to feel, but I will say this,” Michael started, tossing his dying cigarette down into the dirt. “I dunno if it’ll ever make sense, if it’ll ever not hurt…but I’m here every step of the way, alright? We don’t know each other all that well, but I’ve got you, Cole– I’ve got ya.” Shaking his head, he glanced down at his nephew, and when he did, the sight before him damn near broke his heart. That sad, lost look in Cole’s eyes had only grown, finally reaching that point where it was bound to spill over. He could see Cole holding it back, fighting to keep his tears at bay, but as one managed to slip and slide down his face, Michael only held the boy tighter and swallowed hard when Cole clung back to him, nestling himself against his side. “Your mother was more than the worst thing she ever did– some of us are.” Michael had to believe that– it was the only way he could reconcile with what he was and the awful things he did. "And before you let her go, I hope you look for her– for who she really was," he murmured, reaching up to wipe that stray tear away. "Think you'll see a lot of yourself whenever you do." Michael smiled then because even in the midst of his grief, he’d been able to spot the similarities between his sister and his nephew. In a lot of ways, Diana was still very much alive through him. "And that ain't a bad thing."

[coveredinmula]

It’s been nine months since my father was diagnosed with a rare blood cancer, we caught it in time thanks to the doctors at the University Hospital. I knew it would only be a short time before it got worse, the meds were expensive and the trials also cost an arm and leg. It was just the two of us, my mother left us when I was ten years old. If I saw her I’d be liable to punch her in the face, she was being saved by her ex husband.

‘I’ll be fine Jenesis, you need to focus on those books.’

Having to lie to my father was even harder, I put classes on hold and did all I could to keep us afloat and the bills paid on time. I gave him the best smile I could muster, my nerves were fried thanks to my home girl, Stormi pulled some strings and hooked me up at the club she works at. At first I said no, shaking my ass wasn’t an option, what if word got back to my dad? He’d be so disappointed in me.

“I’ll be back before four okay? Nurse Vanessa will be here in twenty minutes, don’t give her any trouble this time.”

‘Who’s the parent here? Now go on, babe. Tell Stormi I said hello.’

My father Kaine said, giving me a hug and shooing me out of the house with a laugh. I shook my head, closing the door and locking it. I walked to the waiting car, Stormi was already blowing smoke out of the window with the music turned up enough for me to hear when I got close. I snatched the door open, slid into the seat and looked ahead.

‘Calm down, Jenesis. Remember this is just a try out, don’t think too much about it. You got a body for it, you take dance lessons from Mari. You’ll be fine.’

She passed me the joint, I took three long puffs and handed it right back. The drive to Club Milli was a quiet one except for the music playing from the speakers, twenty minutes later we were pulling up and getting out. With the line out the door, my stomach was touching my ankles. I wanted to go back home, find another way to get money for the first round of trials. I have a date to meet and it was Friday which was two days away.

“Storm there’s so many people here, Jesus.”

‘I know, it means more money for your pockets. Let’s go.’

Storm grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards the back entrance. After scanning her badge, we were in and the bouncer was patting both of us down. His large palms stayed a second too long on my ass, ick filled my head as I moved out of the way and headed for the dancers room. I came with no outfits, however I was assured that the house woman or whatever would see to me getting the appropriate clothes.

I looked around, women in skimpy outfits, some with just those pasties on their tits and vaj. This was the kind of club I did not see myself working in for long, getting completely naked wasn’t something I wanted to do for a living. Not bashing those that do it, ugh my mind was all over the place and I needed to focus on the task at hand right now. I sat when told to sit, the lady who does make and clothing came over.

‘Hello, mami. I’m Cindy and I’m here to help you get ready, I already have your outfit ready and you’re on after Lori.’

Cindy spoke and did my makeup, after fifteen minutes I was done. I looked at the mirror with a gasp, she smiled, I smiled. I look good as fuck, standing up and getting dressed. I came back dressed in a two piece set, pink and white with a frilly flare. My ass was sitting up nice, tits perky and I was once again becoming self conscious. Storm came over with a bottle of Casamigos and two show glasses, pouring into both. I knocked back mine, then I got another.

‘You ready? Lori is almost done, the MC is going to announce your name and you’ll go out there and show out.’

She was more excited than I was, another shot and I was feeling better about this. After the last song went off, the Lori chick walked back in with a smug smirk.

‘Good luck after that.’

I ignored her.

‘𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭!! 𝐖𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝!! 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬!’

The MC got the crowd hyped, I walked out to men and women cheering. The club was a multi level club, people were on all levels and had the perfect view of the stage. He played the first song Stormi told him to: 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗠𝘆 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 — 𝗣𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗲 𝗙𝗼𝘅𝘅 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲-𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺.

When the song started I moved to the front of the stage where the pole was, I leaned back against the metal, pushing my hips back and forth, hands moving down my body. I spun around the pole next, lifting up and letting gravity take over. I stopped and slowly slid into a split, pushing away from the pole. I rode the ground, before poking my ass out, closing my legs and getting into doggy style.

The next song played: 𝗜 𝗜𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝗲𝘅 — 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘆 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘇.

I crawled to the pole, lifting myself up and practically fucked the damn thing, climbing up and l locking my legs around it as I bent back. My hips bounced, pumped and gyrated to the beat of the song. Money rained over the stage, climbing even higher and spun in circles, clapping my heels. I let go, closing my legs again around it to stop myself. I stood up, bent over shaking my ass.

When Trey said who’s coming home with me, I looked at the crowd and pointed with a grind of my hips and a little hand moving down my body. I dropped to my knees, pulling my body to the edge of the stage. The liquor was having me out of pocket, turning around and pushing, legs spread open in a V-shape with my palms on the ground. I popped each cheek, the guy was so enthralled that he threw all his money.

Standing back up, blowing a kiss to the crowd as they erupted into applause and throwing whatever money they had. I walked off the stage in utter shock, like I wasn’t even in control of my own body. Stormi was screaming and clapping, telling me I did that shit. She told me that my money would be collected and given to me.

——/——/——

That was six months ago, I’ve been stripping and dancing for almost half a year now and I’ve loved it. My dad got onto the trial list, what I didn’t know was someone was watching me the entire time.

End.

[godborn]

  ❝– my LONELINESS, is KILLING ME... ❞ cue NARANCIA subtly turning the radio up as the banger plays.

 source :   unprompted   /   status :   i ,   giorno giovanna ,   am britney’s #1 fan .

    though unspoken ,   the expectation of   maintaining a low profile   grips the atmosphere of the provisional hideout .   giorno hasn’t yet attained any extent of certainty as to how long they’ll occupy the space   ━━━━   bucciarati has only expressed an intent to   play things by ear   for now   ━━━━   but for all of the chaos that had unfolded within the last twenty - four hours ,   a turbulent   butterfly effect   he had unwittingly set into motion with polpo’s assassination ,   he is grateful for the stretch of relative peace   &   stability ,   even if he knows it is not likely to last long .   

    at bucciarati’s request ,   he had taken a turn to check on trish   &   ensure she hadn’t found any trouble ;   with an unknown throng of   stand users   actively scouting her location ,   they can’t be too paranoid .   &   though she seems rather   exasperated   with the constant monitoring ,   she doesn’t outwardly complain much ,   diluting whatever hostility she may feel toward the cluster of testosterone she’s been flung into .   giorno can’t imagine that her situation exhibits any   ease ;   he doesn’t know much of her relationship with her late mother ,   nor would he really be able to understand the potential of that pain ,   given his   disdain for his own ,   but regardless ,   he knows what it’s like to be a fifteen - year - old navigating the   cruelty of reality   with only one’s self to rely on   ━━━━   with one parent dead   (   metaphorically or otherwise   )   &   the other a   haunting mystery .

    upon emerging from her room to leave her be ,   giorno had not expected to hear music rattling through the atmosphere of the lower floor .   he stills for a moment ,   listening to the   familiar rhythm   as it pulls a response from his core even before his brain fully recognizes it   ━━━━   only to encounter the revelation that  he’d know that tempo from six feet under .   swift feet carry him toward the stairs ,   neurons firing like   bursts of lightning   as he pursues the source of the melody ,   noting the spike in volume with the approach of the   illustrious chorus .

    unsurprised is he to find narancia perched on the island of the small kitchen   (   though abbacchio had   bitterly urged him   not to   ‘  put his ass in the same place food is meant to be  ’  ) ,   a new ,   far more durable   stereo at his side following the curious   decommissioning   of his last one   (   giorno recognizes it as a higher - end japanese brand ,   which in turn engenders a fleeting wonder if narancia had acquired it   less than legally   ) .   whatever of giorno’s attention that had deviated from the song is quickly restored to its   rightful place ,   the   power   of his affinity for it   &   the artist that brings it to life transporting him to an immediate place of rapture .

    when i’m not with you ,   i lose my mind   ━━━━   give me a siiiiiiiiign   ━━━━   

    despite himself ,   giorno reaches for narancia’s hands ,   dragging him up to his feet   &   whirling him around the kitchen as the lyrics flood past both their lips .   surely it’s an odd sight   for someone so restrained   (   &   through most of the   well - rehearsed   choreography ,   he actually maintains a somewhat   serious   expression ,   as if he is embodying a   popstar onstage   rather than a teenager in the mafia   ) ,   but giorno is less than concerned about appearances ,   for once .   maybe the others will come to chastise them for being so immature ,   or maybe they’ll join in   &   indulge in a rare   expression of joy   that can unravel the stress   &   apprehension encroaching on them from every corner .   with one of his   favorite songs   blaring through the tension ,   for just a few minutes ,   giorno allows himself   not to care .

    hit me ,   baby ,   one more time .

[cloveroctobers]

SPEND IT / holiday edition?

A/N: haven’t done one of these pieces in awhile and I should at least do one once a year? Maybe. Idk. My ask box is still on hiatus but I felt inspired to write for this time around—also I’m sick with a sinus infection and needed a break from binge-watching shows lol. Also based on the we’re not really strangers couple or relationship edition questions? + stream coco jones 🫶🏽 + NOW EDITED and I hope you enjoy this!

OJ HAYWOOD

Black Friday’s didn’t include much planning unless you dragged OJ out from the ranch to do so. He was always up at the crack of ass anyways…so you didn’t see what the issue was when it came to being in stores to catch a deal. Nonetheless it still irritated him, that man hated being around people too long and obviously preferred hanging with his horses.

However he’d tolerate it for a hour or two just to be with you.

You’ve been together for three years—long distance but been the best of friends since middle school. A lot had changed since you came back from Alaska, learning about this new found species? that took over Agua Dulce had your mind spinning, especially as a biologist.

You missed out on all of it and couldn’t be there during the lost of Otis Sr. due to the snow storms in Alaska, lack of flights and by the time you got back home…you were there for the aftermath. Which meant getting all the details and wondering if the lab you worked for had any further information. Of course they did. Most importantly, you wanted to be there for OJ but he seemed to brush it off, as if it was just another obstacle on the Haywood ranch.

He knew he could be vulnerable with you but it’s not something he wanted to do. It’s not something OJ simply did. You couldn’t recall a time OJ ever got emotional—even when his mother passed back as a child and to learn that it didn’t change as a adult was interesting.

What did change was the amount of eyes OJ had on him now. It was Emerald’s idea to have the four of you participate in this questionnaire that would be filmed, you know like those ones you see on YouTube? Emerald and Angel would be paired while you and OJ would be together. At first everyone assumed it was some interview to get further information on Jean Jacket but Emerald convinced you all that it wasn’t. It would be like gathering around for another round of “Friendsgiving,” she threw yesterday.

Except you would all get a check at the end of the session.

“As if you need more money,” OJ muttered on the drive to the studio.

Em smacked her lips, “why wouldn’t I? No, why wouldn’t all of us? We have to catch the bag especially with the way inflation is treating us. You’re welcome, negro!” She slapped the back of his headrest while OJ just hummed.

You were only participating because you knew OJ wouldn’t do it otherwise. You even took off work to be here and to be honest, it didn’t hurt to have extra money in your pocket for the upcoming holidays. However you got what OJ was hinting at since those pictures and interviews not long after the Jean jacket incident went viral. And Emerald Haywood was all about the business; if she was eating good, so was the rest of her people, period.

Which brought you to this very moment. You could tell OJ was ready to go home after the first round of questions. He didn’t understand why it had to take over a half hour to get the both of you ready and set up. Plus those bright lights were so hot that OJ had to toss his hat onto the table fifteen minutes into shooting.

It was your turn to start the first question to the second round, “What type of social situations make you feel the most awkward?” You read off the card, watching as OJ lolled his head around to look at you.

His large round eyes gave you a look as he sat up straight in the chair now. He drummed his fingers against the table pretending to think about it, “Situations exactly like this one.”

“You guys walked right into that.” You laughed, glancing at the camera and then a few of the camera crew.

A woman added, “Can you please elaborate?”

OJ sighed pressing his elbows into the table, “I don’t care to be in social situations like that. If you haven’t noticed I’m not a big talker and this is probably the most y’all got me to talk today. I can go a whole day without saying much and be fine with it. Put me in a bar and people start conversations with me there, awkward. I used to go to bars with my late father and he had no issue chatting with anyone there. Me? I’m ready to go after one drink. Send me to the store? I don’t browse, I go there for a reason, get what I need to and I’m going back home. I don’t need all eyes on me given what I’ve just been through and ‘specially right now. It’s uncomfortable and the only reason I didn’t get up after level one and leave is because of my honey that’s sitting right across from me.”

The room went silent as OJ voiced exactly what he was feeling. Those that didn’t know him would feel like this was a outburst but you knew better as his frame visibly relaxed after he said his peace. His eyes went back to yours as you placed the card to the pile and reached out for one of his hands. OJ’s ebony calloused but warm hand gave yours a nice squeeze as you dipped your head at him.

“You okay to continue baby? Or you wanna scram? I’m sure they have enough content from us to edit.” You asked while OJ gave out a brief turn of his lips.

OJ thanked you with his eyes, “Mm. I’ll ask a question to you before we do. Cool with you?”

“Sure.”

He tilted his head with a nod before holding a card up to his eyes to read, not caring what the crew thought at this point, “what would you change about the world?”

Taking a deep inhale, your mind scrambled with multiple options. The mistreatment of the environment would be the most simplest answer.

OJ always loved watching you as your brain tried to process everything you were thinking. It was almost as if he could see the light bulbs in your eyes as they scanned for a answer from your brilliant brain.

A smile erupted on your own lips as you said, “I’d change everything it’s done to you.”

OJ immediately pulled the back of your hand up to his lips. He didn’t need you to further explain like he knew the film crew was expecting, your words attached to the genuine light in your eyes was all he needed to make his heart swell. He’d wouldn’t tell you that but he showed you with a kiss to your skin.

JESSIE “JR” RAYMOND

What started out as a light hearted segment during what this production called, “round one,” quickly shifted as you sat across your boyfriend of a few months.

You didn’t want to hear anyone call you a bad sport (since you weren’t keen on this whole idea in the first place) so you showed up. It also put you at ease because you would be doing these questions with JR which you had no knowledge of thanks to Nate. You assumed it would be you versus which ever friend production pulled out a hat or whatever Nate told them.

It was Friendsgiving after all but you weren’t complaining! You considered JR your friend who you easily fell in love with but always fell back because it wasn’t the right timing. You only just got around to being friends your senior year of high school and you never thought you’d be friends with a whole ass jock. It wasn’t really your scene not after you’ve seen plenty do your friends dirty…yes that means you were bias but JR so happened to be different.

Which meant he had shameless girls falling over and after him. You vowed not to be one of them despite your own mother, aunties, and your own “Christian,” grandmother telling you to get JR on lock as soon as you could. Like? Why couldn’t you just be friends? He had such a good heart, you knew that but it took you going to college together the first two years to want that heart full-time.

JR cleared his throat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours underneath his eyelashes. You knew from the expression on his face that this was serious or it could be him putting on a dramatic effect. However usually a smile broke as he got the question out but that face did not change as he held the card.

“Will I find your ex on your instagram/facebook feed? Why or why not?” JR flicked the card onto the table as you laughed a little.

“What’s funny?”

“I’m only on Instagram and Twitter. I deleted my Facebook after some country ass great-uncles got creepy and their girlfriends got mouthy like we’re not related so…no.” You started while JR carefully took in your words.

You reached out to run a hand up JR’s clothed sleeve as you kept smiling, “y’all got my man stressed over this and for what? I don’t nearly have as many exes as Jessie…”

“Don’t deflect, baby. Stay on track, please.” JR encouraged while you rolled your eyes.

“For Twitter no. I don’t know if they follow me or not and I don’t want to take the time to find out,” you continued, “I know for sure I don’t follow them. I had one or two request on Instagram but i didn’t feel like it was necessary to allow that. Even before JR and I decided to be official. Those relationships didn’t end bad or anything like that but that’s the past and I don’t need to know what’s they’re doing in their daily lives. I wish them well though but I’m focused on my life and what I have going on.”

“Well alright,” JR was all grins then while you shook your head at him in disbelief.

Then the film crew had to stir the pot, “what about you JR? Would they find any of your exes on your feed?”

JR stopped smiling then which made you quirk up a brow before you glanced at your gel-x nails.

“Uh—it’s kinda similar to my baby’s Twitter but with Instagram. My page isn’t on private though and anyone can follow me and I do have more relationships than them. So yeah I have exes from high school that still follow me and I follow them. I haven’t unfollowed them because I’m now in a relationship.” JR was honest with his answer.

You now toyed with JR’s initial necklace that was now on your neck as he said this.

“Does this bother you?” One of the film crew asked.

Lifting your shoulders you replied, “this wasn’t my question for JR but…not really? I’m secure in our relationship, although it’s fresh but we’ve been friends for a couple of years now and I have faith in us. I feel like I know him well enough to not think negatively about what he maybe thinking about his past encounters. That’s a closed chapter. I’m the new one. Therefore, I’m not going to demand what he does on his account. Simple.”

“We solid.” JR confirmed, holding his hand out for dap.

You did your signature handshake, “real bad but we’re not gonna ignore the double standard here. That’s a private conversation for another day.”

JR dipped his head, now looking at you a bit sheepishly, “Agreed.”

Plucking up a card you read off your question to your boyfriend, “What could you have done better in your previous relationship(s)?”

Huffing to yourself you placed it down. You wondered if these questions were instigating anything between your friends too because it definitely seemed like they were trying to start something between you two. However the both of you knew how to handle yourselves quite well.

“Communication,” JR told with furrowed brows as he said this, “most definitely. I had that issue all throughout high school when it came to disagreements and was ready to call it quits with a swiftness. The childishness was so bad at fourteen.” He laughed to himself before saying, “I even struggled with that in my last relationship freshman year in college.”

You knew of this situation and empathized with it. It was not your relationship to pass judgment on but you were there when JR broke it off and seen how hurt he had been. It pained him even further when he learned the truth and how he felt like he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend. Ultimately to know what his ex had truly been through and how she would live with that for the rest of her life, bothered him.

He shut her out because of his assumption and lack of communication.

“How’s the communication going between you two?”

JR lifted his brows, searching your eyes for this answer. He didn’t want to say something when you may not feel the same.

Keeping your eyes on JR’s you spoke, “we take the time to. I actually think Jessie’s great at it, he really listens to understand and not listen to speak since you know how there’s people like that? Not my man.” You winked making JR slowly beam at you, “He also knows how to ask open ended questions when we really need to discuss something.”

“Yes, I learned a little something something in my behavioral course.” JR smiled, “they’re a different communicator though. It’s lots of non-verbal cues I have to pick up on to get a sense if talking is what is needed at the time. We kinda just know what works after being around each other for a bit.”

You mirror his smile.

“So it’s all peaches and cream?”

JR glanced at the crew, sensing what you were feeling as the conversation shifted this round. He wasn’t sure if it was to get content or was the purpose truly trying to get the both of you to get closer. To connect. However that phrase felt…shady as you would say. Y’all were being open with complete strangers so why was it feeling like no one in the room was rooting for you when they didn’t know you?

“Yeah,” JR refrained from turning his eyes into slits at the main person that was prying, “and if it isn’t? We’ll do our damn best to figure it out because that’s what a team does.”

He turned back to you, watching as you got up to sit down in his lap, arms slipping around his neck. You two shared a slow peck solidifying that as his hands rested on your waist.

“Team work makes the dream work.” You stated staring into his eyes briefly, before looking back at the crew as JR placed a kiss along your jaw.

“Yes ma’am, you’re my dream.”

You face JR again, knowing he meant that as you caressed his brows; staring down at his lips knowing he was awaiting another kiss.

“We’re being corny.” You mumbled, knowing you were still attached to a mic but it didn’t matter.

JR lightly gripped your jaw as he shrugged, “I know but we still cute though.”

Which earned him a laugh and another kiss.

LANDO JOHNSON

“What did the people who raised you teach you about love?”

Lando let out a low whistle as you read the question. You chuckled to yourself reaching for the glass of water to cater to your growing sore throat. Just imagine being sick around turkey day? What the hell were you supposed to enjoy without your throat hurting? Cranberry sauce?

“Oh, we getting deep huh sweetheart.” Lando rubbed his hands together, before glancing upwards at the lights in thought.

“Times two.” You held up a peace sign, making Lando laugh as he watched you.

Lando fell silent, pressing his elbows into his upper thighs as he thought about his parents marriage. “I’m a military brat, my father is a marine and plans on retiring as soon as I graduate and go pro. So we’re all supposed to accept change but my mother? She wasn’t like that. She hated change and was your typical Georgia peach. Georgia is all she’s ever known so when she met my dad she wasn’t willing to go over all the place, she liked traveling but not if that meant she had to spend it alone. Once she got pregnant with me that stopped, she had seen enough and my mom was always set in her ways.”

Placing your hand on top of Lando’s for comfort you listened to what you already knew.

“My parents are complete opposites. My dad can be tough, disciplined, active, and prideful. My mother was a artist, one of her paintings is actually in the library at our university. She was quiet but stubborn, kind-hearted, and goofy at times…” Lando described the two that raised him, “They taught me that love is patient and love is not a need or a want.”

You felt like Willow at the red table talk as you listened to your boyfriend tell you this. Whenever you had conversations like these, lando can have you thinking about a lot and you admired that. He had a way with words and knew how to challenge you by looking at things from all perspectives.

In the end, not all things are one sided.

“How so?” You commented as his eyes found yours.

Lando used his free hand to caress his chin as he explained, “my dad would be off on duty in other countries while we stayed here in Georgia. To anyone on the outside it appeared as if that was what worked for them but I knew there were times that they both grew tired of this. Yet they were patient with each other, learned that together. However they taught me the difference between need and want. Need can be based around fear, and a lot of people feel like they can’t live without someone so they need them. Fear is the opposite of love, you shouldn’t be fearful in a relationship. Wanting gives them the freedom to leave but you still love them. When my mother got diagnosed…my dad and I both learned more about the need and want aspect.”

“Wow,” you breathed feeling like the two of you were the only ones in the room—which was often.

“My parents could live without each other and love with distance. I think that was the universe preparing them for my mother’s future departure. It all makes sense to me. To some it won’t but I know love can take work and isn’t always what you expect.” Lando finalized.

“Shout-out to Mr. And Mrs. Johnson.” You clapped it up for the pair while Lando just shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

Lando reached for his own card to read to you, “they’re pretty cool but I’m cooler right sweetheart?” He winked before he awaited your answer.

“You aight.” You teased while Lando shook his head and looked directly into the camera.

“We don’t rock with liars.”

“Oh, shut up.” You lightly kicked his foot underneath the table.

Lando inhaled trying to get comfortable in this ugly bamboo chair, “okay, croaky. I mean love—this is your question.”

Balling up your fist at the man you laughed, almost going into a coughing fit before he slid your water closer to you. Raising the glass you mouthed at the camera, ‘it’s not COVID.’

“So…how’s your heart today? Really?”

It was almost as if Lando had this question memorized with the way it said it with such ease. He didn’t even have to break eye-contact to ask this and seemed pretty intuitive to your response. Lando didn’t mind having chats like this and thrived on discussions, if he had something to say you were gonna hear it no matter what tone.

From the moment he started going to therapy after enduring panic attacks, he was pretty open about talking things out. He had his mother to thank for that, she didn’t allow him to bottle things up whereas his father preferred to get his frustrations out at the gun range instead. Which Lando knew wasn’t the healthiest since the military had this agenda that you had to be this stone cold person…he just accepted that was something his father wouldn’t change.

Don’t get the man wrong, his father knew when it was time to ask for help; once Lando started having panic attacks but that didn’t mean he didn’t let his pride lead the way in the beginning. And the man tried as Lando got older because Mr. Johnson also found that he needed someone to talk to too and what better person to do that than with their own son?

So yes Orlando Johnson did not mind having these conversations with someone he was spending time with.

He watched you intently, like he always did when you spoke. Just as much as your eyes shined watching him talk, his own heart felt fluttery? Whenever he looked at you.

“…somedays it’s like woooo I’m at the top of the world or a rollercoaster and then sometimes its like the drop from a rollercoaster then I’m feeling like a ogre crawling out some quicksand you know?” Your eyes were wide as you rambled, which made Lando chuckle as he zoned back in on your reply, “that’s that seasonal depression hitting but as for today? I’m a nice…I don’t know 6.5/10.”

“I receive that,” Landon said, “what can I do if anything to help make it better?”

“You’re already doing it, handsome.” You held out your glass to clink against Lando’s.

DAMON SIMS

There you two were sitting across from each other in the room with bright lights and cold air.

Damon was leaning towards you, elbows pressed into the table, while you leaned into your fist as if you were in some deep studying session and Damon was on the field ready for whatever.

“Damon, What question are you trying to answer in your life right now?”

Damon lifted his hands as he chewed on the back of his lip and then said, “how to continue moving forward in a lot of my relationships right now and what the rest of the year is gonna look like?”

You nodded your head, not shocked about this answer but felt a little worried. Did those relationships also include you? You knew most of that answer was based on Damon’s relationship with his father, although you knew he was ready to move on with his biological mom and proceeded to give the same treatment he felt his biological dad gave him when he gave him up, you knew damon still wanted answers.

“I got a lot going on although the gorgeous smile may have a lot of y’all fooled,” Damon peeked at the camera flashing a grin that you lightly shook your head at, the man couldn’t help but to let that ego out every now and then, “but I’m still human. I got shit to figure out and I know I don’t have to have it all planned but I need further direction by the end of this year. I already got my New Year’s resolution planned.”

“Will we be experiencing a New Year’s Eve kiss in the city?” You quizzed.

Damon scratched at his nose, “in cold ass New York? I might see something like a rat on skates when we’re in the moment so I dunno about all that doll.”

“See how I’m disrespected?” You tossed the card at Damon who laughed, “like I don’t cater to my man. Like I don’t have many ways to keep him warm. Damon thinks I’m gonna pull a shitty move like rose did Leo DiCaprio when I told him I’m not her.”

Damon pushed out his lips but didn’t miss a heartbeat, “let me tell y’all what she did. She made dinner for us the other night and while we were eating, her mom calls her on FaceTime right? She tells her mom that she made us Mac and cheese, asked me how I liked it and I said it was cool. Before I could even say anything further she tells her mom there’s cream cheese and onions in it. Her mom has her own successful catering business. Her mom starts to go off on her but she proceeds to tell momma that I made it and it wasn’t her! Guess who got cussed out that night? Now y’all tell me if you think she wouldn’t do me like rose?”

“Is this true?” The camera crew asked you.

Looking away over your shoulder, you curled a strand of hair behind your ear mumbling, “I’m sorry mom.”

“I need a apology too. I got the brunt of it.” Damon tried to catch your eye but you just fanned him off, “we not about to make it to New York with this stank-ness.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

“Sometimes, bro.”

You battled your eyelashes while Damon just let out a low sigh.

“When was the last time someone made you feel special on your birthday?”

“Birthdays that I remember?” You questioned.

“…we not twenty-one yet.” Damon whispered, while you mockingly covered your mouth.

“They don’t know if I got what Harriet Tubman had.”

“What?” Damon laughed, “I can’t deal with you.”

“Alright, alright,” you sighed, “I’m a winter baby but i love the summer and celebrate half birthdays yet I can’t remember nobody’s else’s—don’t quote me on that. I’d have to say I felt the most special when I celebrated my last birthday with my friends back home since we only had months left together. They wrote me letters and it all played out as a monologue at the movie theater. I thought we were going to see the new scream but nope, it was our lives played out on the big screen.”

“Dope ass friends.” Damon commented, “can’t wait to hang with them in New York in January.”

Smiling you gripped Damon’s arm to snatch the card out of his hand up to your lips while leaning on the table. “IN NEW YOOoOoOORK!”

“Here she go,” Damon pinched his brows laughing as he turned to the camera cutting his fingers against his neck, “y’all might want to stop filming, this’ll take about ten minutes since she’ll try to transition to any other song that says New York or is by a New York artist.”

Keeping the card to your mouth you gripped the sleeve of Damon’s cardigan, “these lights will expire you—

“Inspire.” He attempted to correct you.

“In New yooooooork. New York. New yooooork!” You ignored him before tapping him, “it’s your turn to rap Jay’s part.”

“No.”

“Forget you then,” you sucked your teeth before licking your lips and attempting to pull some fuckboy light skin cringe mess, “Say what up to Ty-Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais.” You started to rap what you remembered until Damon got up from his chair.

You tried your hardest to work your camera time, although you were sure this wouldn’t make the cut as Damon gripped onto your cheeks to get your attention.

And he did when he pressed his lips to yours.

“New years came early.” You breathed, smiling up at Damon who pulled you to your feet.

He tossed an arm across your shoulders before clearing his throat and began rocking you from side to side beginning to sing off-key himself, “One hand in the air for the big city…”

You wrapped both arms around Damon’s frame; grinning at both of your foolishness.

EMMETT CULLEN

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” Emmett read the question off to you with a sigh.

He found this whole ordeal kinda lame until he persuaded the camera crew to provide shots, which wasn’t originally part of the plan. At this point in the game, he was taking shots after asking you questions just because. It wasn’t even a truth or drink segment but Emmett was charming and knew how to get his way.

“Ha!” Emmett laughed, golden eyes scanning over the card once more after downing his shot, “We don’t need to guess. I’ve got a sister who—

Slamming your hand on the table, you widened your eyes at your husband who sent you a dimpled grin. He held his hand out to calm you as he carried on.

“My sister Alice, what’s up if you’re watching! She’s a legit psychic and could tell us anything we need to know regarding my babe’s future.” Emmett admitted but knew the people were reluctant to believe that.

Especially since the room went quiet.

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t believe me! I can call her up right now!”

“Emmett—

“It’s not that we don’t believe you. We get all sorts of people on this show for different things so maybe you can give us her contact info after?”

“Oh yeah,” Emmett smirked, “did you have vampires and witches too?”

“No we haven’t had any of those that I can recall.”

Emmett whipped his head around to yours, wiggling his brows while you scoffed at him. Of course he wouldn’t be on his best behavior, he wouldn’t be himself if he was.

“Put your library on shuffle. Explain the first song that comes up and why it best represents your relationship or in our case, marriage?” You moved on as Emmett couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

He lifted his body with ease, yanking his phone out to open Apple Music. He was the Apple Music guy and you were a Spotify girl, it was a whole debate that you didn’t want to get into right now.

“Alright, here it is. Starting the countdown! In three…two…one…!” And he pressed play followed by the music.

Emmett tossed the phone on the table after turning up the volume that would most likely blow out his speakers. He then began mimicking the guitar and drums as the band began to sing.

I never believed in things that I couldn't see

I said if I can't feel it then how can it be

No, no magic could happen to me

And then I saw you

I couldn't believe it, you took my heart

I couldn't retrieve it, said to myself

What's it all about

Now I know there can be no doubt

You can do magic

You can have anything that you desire

Magic, and you know

You're the one who can put out the fire

You know darn well

When you cast your spell you will get your way

When you hypnotize with your eyes

A heart of stone can turn to clay

He paused it, “well, well, how ironic for this song to best describe our marriage, huh babe? For the too young out there or uncultured, this was released in 1982 by a band called America. It’s a feel good song and when I’m with my babe, my wife, that’s what it feels like all of the time. Good vibes. Some might even say magical.” He snorted to himself, tipping a imaginary (most likely witch) hat.

The insiders he was throwing right underneath these people’s noses was actually a little funny, stupid but funny regardless.

“She’s from a wicked place herself, Louisiana and this was actually the first song I remembered hearing when I met her at this restaurant you have to take a boat through murky water to get to. That was a sign we should be together from the music itself.” Emmett told, keeping his eyes on you before he grabbed another shot, “and I’m a big believer in the signs.”

“Not the love spells?”

“So you admit you did a love spell on me?” Emmett dipped his head as he stared over at you, a sly grin threatening to appear.

“Please, I don’t need to do much to get you falling at my feet.”

Emmett’s booming laughter was heard, “she’s not wrong,” he tilted his head then took the shot, “and I love putting in the work if that means I get to have you.” He winked.

LEAH CLEARWATER

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” You blew out a breath as you could feel the heat radiating beneath your girlfriend’s dark brown eyes.

Leah chewed down on her bottom lip and you weren’t expecting her to answer this. However she wanted to be transparent and honest with you mainly, fuck the cameras.

“I love my mother,” Leah started, “she’s always been a good mother. I just always felt like there was a disconnect somewhere. I was always closer to my late father and Seth is closer to mom. It’s the usual weird dynamic, the son gravitates to the mother and the daughter with their father. We were no different.”

This you knew. It wasn’t something intentional but that was just the way it was and that did not necessarily mean that one parent loved the child any less or vice versa. You’ve seen Sue Clearwater plenty of times out of the five years you’ve been dating her daughter and she had the whole maternal vibe. She was sweet, constantly trying to get you to eat, nurturing, courageous and not to mention beautiful.

Leah sniffed, “like I said there’s this disconnect there long before my dad died but it seemed to increase afterwards? She’s currently in a relationship with this woman’s—that I don’t particularly care for father. He’s fine or whatever but it makes me feel gross that he literally helped produce someone who has caused one of my friends pain. He’s a reminder of that along with trying to take my dad’s place as if he wasn’t friends with him. It’s almost like he spit in my face being with my mom, that colonizer.”

Charlie Swan and Sue Clearwater had been in a relationship for over eleven years now. It still bothered your girlfriend to this day simply because she did not want to sit down and have a conversation about it. Leah did not want to waste her breath but it was evident that Charlie wasn’t going anywhere. Especially since him and Sue moved out to Oklahoma years ago to start a new chapter in lives together.

“So I say we’re content. There’s just things we don’t want to see eye to eye on. I have no problem voicing my opinions to my mom, that’s my mom. And she understands how I feel and that it’s not going to change. We love from a distance but if I need her she’ll be here in a heartbeat and if she needs me, I’ll be around.” Leah informed with her signature lisp and a sting in her eyes.

You knew Leah didn’t want you comfort her. She didn’t like to be seen as weak and you told her showing emotion never meant that you were weak. Leah’s been through a lot of hurt, was bitter towards certain people with every reason but was still healing after all these years.

There was no timeline for that.

“Let’s change the subject already!” Leah rubbed at one of her eyes as she continued sitting slouched, “What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“It plays a prominent role in my life. Family is very important to me, we’re all very close. Very affectionate. I lost both of my parents at eighteen and was thankful enough to have godparents that were willing to look after me. My parents were very loving and my godparents are the same. I carry that with everyone around me, including Leah. I love giving love as much as receiving it.” You answered making Leah scowl, who bit down on her nail as she shook her head at you.

“She’s the grumpy girlfriend but a big softie at heart that just simply wants to be loved.”

“Oh god,” Leah wanted to sink into the floor, “don’t talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Okay, Leah. Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah of course I do. What kinda question is that?” Leah frowned.

“Good and I’m going to keep loving you in public and behind closed doors. We’ve been together five years, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

You exhaled, “We’re not focusing on the what if’s, we live in the now remember? So shut up and let’s make out.”

“Ew, not in front of these strangers.”

“Aw come on, live a little. You know you can’t resist all this.” You ran a hand down your body making Leah snort and look away in horror.

“…Later.” She whispered, peeking back at you, although the mic was still on.

You kissed your lips at Leah who flicked the card at you, knowing you wouldn’t be stopping the love any time soon and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

[shuadotcom]

Familiar Hauntings | KNJ

⤷ Summary: You and Namjoon have worked hard to become expert paranormal investigators. You’ve successfully investigated and exorcised a number of demons and ghosts all over the world and your followers believe in you enough to keep you confident and going. That’s why when you get a call about a family with a teenage daughter experiencing traumatizing hauntings, you and your team don’t think twice about going to help.

It isn’t until you get there do you realize that you may be in over your heads when you come face to face with a familiar evil. It’s going to take more effort than you thought you’d need to get rid of this sinister force before it destroys an innocent family, and even you.

⤷ Pairing: Demonologist!Namjoon x Clairvoyant F!reader

⤷ Film/Franchise: The Conjuring

⤷ Genre/AU: Thriller, horror-ish, angst, established relationship au, supernatural au

⤷ Rating: PG15

⤷ Warnings: Demons and ghosts, violence, possessions, profanity, mention of blood, mentions of death (nothing too graphic though!)

⤷ Words: 10k

⤷ Note: Written for the Bangtan Cinema: Horror Night collab!! Thank you a million times to @the-boy-meets-evil​ for betaing this in only a few hours! You’re literally the best ❤️ And thank you to @rkivian​ for this bomb ass banner!! I asked for something spooky with Joon in glasses and Kiri delivered!! 😍

Horror is my favorite movie genre, but I quickly found out how hard it is to write 🥴 It’s a whole different set of skills that I don’t think I have down very well, but it was fun to try - especially to pay homage to my favorite horror series!

I’m trying really hard to finish up my remaining collab fics for the year because I have more writing plans for 2023 so please bear with me y’all!! 🖤

“Ugh, that flight was so much more cramped than I remember,” Namjoon complains, rubbing his sore neck.

“Do we have enough time to grab something to eat before the hotel?” Mingyu questions.

“We have just enough time for a drive-through stop before dropping our stuff at the hotel and heading to the assignment.” Your assistant Jeongyeon reads off of her phone. “The Jacksons live fifteen minutes away so the ride won’t be too long.”

“Hey, everyone, we just landed here in the U.S. Say hi to everyone!” Jungkook, bringing up the rear of your group, catches up to walk in front of the four of you, panning the camera around. You wave, giving the camera a tired smile.

“Jeongyeon, can you tell us about the family we’ll be helping today?” When you’re all in your taxi, Jungkook turns the camera towards the woman as she’s triple checking the address for the hotel.

“The Jacksons, a family of five from New York,” she begins, barely missing a beat. “Their teenage daughter Siobhan has been experiencing what they believe to be a haunting for the past three months. She’s claiming to hear and see things that none of the family saw until a month ago. They experienced the usual: things moving when no one touched them, doors slamming, even voices in the house that aren’t any of the family members.” Jeongyeon pauses swiping the page on her tablet before continuing.

“The last month has been the most troubling. She’s been waking up with bruises and small cuts all over her body. She’s also been sleeping for days straight and the family can’t wake her up. It’s at random sometimes when she’s napping or sleeping. It’s to the point where she tries to stay up as long as she can which she can barely do anymore.”

“Do you think this thing is trying to take her body or something?” Mingyu asks you and Namjoon.

Namjoon shrugs. “It’s likely. Just hearing the story on the surface, it’s definitely something trying to possess her or take her soul. The question really is just what it is and what exactly it wants.”

“They have two other kids too - a nineteen-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter, so they’re even more nervous that this entity will attach to them too.” When Jeongyeon reminds you of that, your nerves spike. You’ve had to help other families with multiple kids and a demon can try and possess multiple people at once. It makes this situation go from a normal emergency to an even more dire one.

Jungkook continues to prattle on to your audience about New York while you take the time to yourself to mentally prepare not only for your job but also to be mindful of the camera and your virtual audience as well.

At times, you can’t believe the way that so many people on the internet tune into your videos to watch you and Namjoon use your gifts to save people’s lives. You didn’t start online, showing people that you have the power to communicate with demons and ghosts and Namjoon didn’t become an exorcist and demonologist to be famous.

The gift of clairvoyance came to you as young as five. Sightings of ghosts started to be as normal as seeing alive people. It took a while for you to realize that everyone around you wasn’t like you - your family and friends couldn’t speak to the old woman that lived in your living room in your childhood home. No one else could hear the little girl crying in the back of your school bus in third grade; no one except you.

For years your parents were concerned for you and your sanity and you couldn’t say you blame them. Your mom stuck by you though and even today, while she doesn’t know how you even acquired this gift, she supports you. Your father, on the other hand, died a nonbeliever when you entered middle school and even though you still wish he was here today to see what you’ve done with this “disturbing part of you” as he called it, you’re surrounded by nothing but support now.

It did take years admittedly, for you to find anyone who supported you as much as Namjoon though. When you moved to Korea for college, he caught your eye immediately. Something about him was different than anyone you’ve ever met and he felt the same. It didn’t take long for you to share this part of yourself that was private. Even though you’d lost countless friends and partners because of it, Namjoon didn’t even bat an eye when you told him there was a spirit in the stairwell of his dorm building.

“I knew there was something!” He had practically yelled, nearly getting you kicked out of the library. He didn’t have the same gift as you but he could always feel the presence of things no one can see. It’s what made him obsessed with the supernatural and the afterlife, wanting to know more about the things he sensed.

It was when you were close to graduation and you’d been inseparable since your first year that he broached the idea of becoming paranormal investigators and learning how to do exorcisms. You’d never thought about it, but it made sense. Both of you felt as though you can be doing more with what you know about demons and ghosts and so you agreed.

Things fell into place after that. You learned how to do exorcisms from a friend of your mother’s in the church. Neither you nor Namjoon are religious people, so you took what you learned from there and spent another year tweaking it to fit more into what you both believe in. You still remember being laughed at by a former friend who also believed in the supernatural for wanting to do exorcisms with crystals and spells instead of the bible, but it’s what felt right to you.

You felt even more secure in that decision when you and Namjoon performed your first exorcism. A friend from your office job at the time was complaining about her cousin’s son who was acting so differently.

“Different how?” You’d asked and she explained that he’d often sleep a lot all day, have extreme mood swings, and would even talk and engage with empty rooms. He was being written off as puberty and maybe schizophrenia, but something in you disagreed.

To your surprise, the mother agreed to let you and Namjoon visit her son and see how he was doing. She was so desperate on the phone when you got her number from your co-worker. She babbled about how she felt insane at even contemplating something like possession but every doctor she’d taken him to said all of his tests were fine and there was nothing they could do.

That’s how you and Namjoon discovered a low-level demon was possessing the boy. It took you two days to gather the necessary spells and crystals to banish the demon, but with shaking hands and nervousness you still can’t quite describe, you banished the demon within the child. The sheer relief in the little boy’s eyes is still one that you can never get out of your head. He cried, his mother cried, and you cried because holy shit you just exorcised a demon out of a kid.

Namjoon retold your experiences on his blog and on a demonology Reddit forum he frequented and miraculously, someone in Busan found his post and truly believed him, messaging him, begging for his help.

That was your second exorcism. Then there was a couple in Gangnam. Then a family in Daegu. Then came the emails from Japan, and Europe and then in just three years, you and Namjoon were getting inquiries from all over the world. His blog had turned into both that and your website where people could reach out and ask for you to help their spouses, their parents, their children, and anyone that they care about that was being haunted somehow.

The two of you were busier than you could keep up with and you knew you needed more help and more equipment to be able to detect entities more effectively. That alone took another six months of research and interviews to gather a team of people you trusted and could help.

Jeongyeon was first. She was formerly an assistant to other celebrities and idols but left due to the high-maintenance attitudes. She says she loves working for you and Namjoon more than anyone else because you were just normal people who just so happened to have a following and liked helping people. You know that you’re not supposed to be overtly friendly with people who work with you, but Jeongyeon is admittedly your best friend and keeps you in line when you get too emotional or forgetful.

Jungkook and Mingyu were next. They were best friends and were fascinated by demons and what you and Namjoon do, in addition to being fans. When they saw Namjoon’s post about looking for a team to put together, they wasted no time in messaging him to meet. You only needed one additional person to help work the camera and the equipment you could finally afford to buy, but the of them were a package deal and were passionate about one day doing what you do, so you brought them on.

The five of you have been a team for the last year and you and Namjoon quickly found that you now couldn’t be nearly as successful and efficient without them.

With your bags safely in your hotel and the group fed and sufficiently briefed on the family, you pull up to the house. The suburban neighborhood is quiet and the house in front of you is a brick two-story home. The front yard is normal, with a tree in the front and the lawn decently manicured. There’s a small garden and two cars parked in the driveway.

From the outside, the house is completely normal and no one driving by would ever suspect there’s a dark, evil cloud hanging heavily over it that you can feel as soon as you start up the walkway.

Namjoon rings the doorbell and takes your hand, already feeling how uneasy you are.

The door opens only seconds later, a couple looking expectantly at your group. “Mr. and Mrs. Jackson?” The woman nods hesitantly and you give them a smile that you hope is reassuring.

“Thank you so much for coming, please come in,” the husband says, the couple stepping aside and ushering you all into the house. The atmosphere of the home is so cold and frail compared to how warmly decorated it is with knick-knacks and family photos everywhere. Your eyes take in one particular photo showing the family of five standing in front of Cinderella’s castle at Disney, their smiles wide and jubilant.

A stark contrast to the solemn looks you were greeted with.

“Where are your children?” You ask, turning back to the parents.

“Oh, Siobhan’s upstairs. Our son and other daughter are at my mom’s while we, uh… do this.” Mrs. Jackson wrings her hands as she speaks, glancing back at her husband.

“That’s good. These things tend to work best when there are fewer people involved.” The couple shares a look at Namjoon’s words before ushering all of you into the living room. This space is also decorated with mementos and feels just as rigid.

“So, uh, how exactly will this work?” Mr. Jackson asks, glancing at you and the rest of your team.

“Well, Namjoon, Jeongyeon, and I will talk to Siobhan and get to know a little more about what’s going on. We have the information you gave us of course, but talking to her may give us a better idea as to what we’re dealing with. Jungkook and Mingyu will use some of our equipment around the house and see if they can pick up anything that may be roaming around.” You point to the two men that wave as they unpack some of their gear.

Mrs. Jackson gives everyone a watery smile before zooming in on you. “Rich and I have done a lot of research on you guys. You’ve helped a lot of people over the years and you seem to always know how to get rid of whatever is…haunting people.”

“That’s right. We do our best.”

“We were still skeptical, but we want to trust you. No one else has been able to help. We went to every church in the county and damn near the state before emailing you. They all either didn’t believe us or couldn’t do anything at all. We just want our daughter to be safe.” Her voice cracks at the end of her words and her husband pulls her into a hug.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jackson -”

“Please, call us Rich and Mona.”

Namjoon nods. “Rich and Mona, I promise you we’re going to do everything we can. We’ve had a few occasions where we’ve been up against some forces that we needed to call in reinforcements for, but we would never leave a client without help. You can count on us.”

You and the team then spread out to jump into your work. Mona leads you up to Siobhan’s room and stays in the hall as you knock.

“Come in,” The voice is quiet but you still hear it.

Siobhan Jackson is seventeen years old but looks much younger in person. She’s hunched over at her desk chair, a large sweatshirt draped on her with her laptop illuminating her tired expression as she stares blankly at it. Her curls are in a bun, tendrils of hair hanging around her face.

She looks up and meets your expression, brown eyes full of exhaustion and something else sad that you can’t quite place, but you know it’s a form of sadness. The room is stifling, something in the air filling your lungs as soon as you inhale. You don’t know what it is, but you know it’s there and you know it’s not good.

“Hi, Siobhan. I’m Y/n. This is my husband Namjoon.”

“Hi.” Her voice is soft and her tone is low.

“I suppose you know why we’re here.” She nods. “Would you mind if we asked you some questions? We’ve heard from your parents, but I’d like to hear from you.”

She nods and waves you the three of you on. You and Namjoon sit on the long ottoman at the end of her bed while Jeongyeon takes her vanity chair, tablet at the ready. Siobhan’s laptop is open to YouTube, but it’s just sitting on the homepage.

“Um, well, when we moved here, I knew something was weird in the house, especially my room. Everyone said it was just because I was homesick but I knew I was right. He popped up when I turned seventeen and was nice to me at first. It sounds weird, I know, but he was someone I could talk to since I don’t have too many friends at school.

I thought he just was lonely too and wanted someone to be friends or whatever with, but then my eighteenth birthday happened and he got mean. He’d tell me how my family doesn’t love me and how no one at school likes me and how there was nothing left for me here and why should I stick around.” Her voice cracks at these words, making you frown. The memories of a similar experience with a demon when you were her age crop up, but you will it away. You need to concentrate on Siobhan.

“Did he make any offers or propositions to you?”

“Yeah, he um, he wants me to go with him. I don’t know where, but like, he wants me to be his bride.” She says it with disgust, which is relieving. You’ve run into more people than you’d like that considered being possessed willingly or who were disillusioned into believing that their entity cared for them. Siobhan doesn’t seem to be a victim in that sense so there’s still time to save her.

“Okay. And do you know anything else about him?”

She looks visibly flustered, her tan skin turning the lightest shade of red. “Oh, yeah, um, at first he was just a voice, but then he showed up in front of me. He doesn’t look like a demon or anything. He looks a lot like my favorite singer.”

Frowning you glance at Jeongyeon who has been jotting down her words on her tablet.

“And who’s that?”

“Um, Park Jimin.” Siobhan gestures around the room and you finally notice the sheer amount of posters of the K-Pop singer on her walls.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed about. Demons are sneaky and will use anything they can to make us let our guard down. Just remember it’s all a trick and he just wants to hurt you.”

“I know. I just want him to go away.” Her shoulders sag as she picks at a stray string on her sweater sleeve.

“Of course you do,” Namjoon chimes in. “And he will. Is there anything else we need to know? Anything helps so that we can do a little more research and try to find his name.”

Siobhan looks to the ceiling, thinking of anything else to add. “Um, he’s mostly in my room. Like, he can go all over the house obviously since he keeps terrorizing everyone, but he spends most of his time in here.”

“Makes sense. You’re what he wants so he’s going to stick by you. We’ll have to draw him out and also do the banishment spell in here then.”

You and Namjoon share a look and get up, ready to go see what the rest of the team found.

“Um, Mrs. Kim?” Siobhan’s timid voice squeaks up before you’re out of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do I have anything to do? Like I don’t know how this works.”

“You don’t need to do anything. We’ll be casting a banishment spell once we draw the demon out then we’ll cleanse the room and house when he’s gone to clear a lot of the dark aura that he’s cast. It isn’t that crazy. Most of the entities we banish go with a minimal fight. All you have to do is stay back and let us take care of it.” You hope your voice offers her some ease and it seems to work as she gives you the first smile you’ve seen since you entered her room.

The rest of the day is spent researching and setting up equipment. Jungkook and Mingyu have EMF meters, digital thermometers, and infrared cameras around the house and they also have a few motion-activated cameras near Siobhan’s room and scattered around elsewhere.

You and Namjoon have been flipping through your archives to get a sense of who this demon is. He’s some sort of love or lust demon, wanting to make Siobhan his bride. This narrows it down, but not nearly enough to be able to pinpoint him yet. There are far more entities that desire a human soul as a partner out there than people may realize.

The majority of demons that want a human soul or vessel will play any mind games they have the power to use to manipulate their target. It’s all textbook 101 demon behavior so far, so you have to wait to catch a glimpse of something on one of the cameras around and maybe make out the demon’s form to help figure out who it is.

“So are we doing the usual thing here when we find out who this demon is?” Mingyu plops into the kitchen chair next to you, peering over your shoulder at your laptop screen.

“Likely, yes. What the family has described sounds like a normal love-hungry entity. We have to try and draw him out in Siobhan’s room, then immediately we’ll need to start a banishment spell. Depending on who it is we can decide which crystals we may need for the ritual and then go from there.”

“Do you think we’ll need anything extra?”

“Unless this demon surprises us, I don’t think so.”

You ignore the nagging feeling in your gut that something about this job feels off and chalk it up to casual nerves, opting to proceed as usual.

Hours tick by with no movement in the house. You’ve done the most research you can and are just waiting for some signs in the house. This is the most normal part of what you do - sitting around and playing the waiting game.

When it’s nearly midnight and you’ve been in the house almost all night, you decide to call it quits and go back to the hotel until tomorrow. Sometimes the entities know when someone like you are in the house and attempt to hide their presence as long as they can, but they always make an appearance eventually.

The next morning, when you’re back in the house, you find out your hunch was correct. The various cameras you left around the house were able to pick up something walking around last night while the family slept.

“The images are hard to decipher. This is definitely not a person, but we can’t tell who or what.” Jungkook explains as he points to the shots on his screen.

The image from the motion detector camera shows a blur that’s dark, misty grey, and is tall - very tall - but you can’t make out much more. The infrared findings picked up massive cold spots moving around the house, specifically around Siobhan’s room. You stare at it, a vision clouding your mind at that moment.

It’s Siobhan, even if this is a particularly murky vision. She’s flailing around uncontrollably on the ground, looking as though she’s fighting for air. Her screams echo in your ears, loud and desperate.

“Y/n?!” Namjoon’s voice rips you from your vision as you blink, trying to clear the blur.

“What?”

“You were gasping as if you couldn’t breathe and you started yelling” He’s concerned, his eyebrows scrunching up on his forehead.

You hadn’t even realized that what was happening to Siobhan in your vision was happening to you at the same time. After retelling what you saw, you feel a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Do you think it was a warning?” Namjoon questions.

“Maybe. Clearly whatever’s in the house knows we’re here and has something to say about it.”

You mull Namjoon’s words over and realize how right he is. This entity knows more about you than you know about it at this point. It was showing you what it can do and there’s nothing you can do about it. It can take Siobhan over or harm her at any moment. Entities have infiltrated your psyche before to broadcast their twisted desires to you, but this time feels especially sinister, with unmeasurable unease washing over you.

“We don’t know his name yet but we have to try to draw him out at least. We can get him out and try to banish him with a general spell.”

Namjoon shares a skeptical look with everyone else in the room at your words. “But if we don’t know his name will it even work? You know that we need the name of the entity to for sure banish it.”

“I know, but we can’t afford to wait on when he wants to fully make himself known. He knows we’re here and isn’t happy about it so we need to at least be around him and I can probably find out myself.”

Reluctantly, everyone agrees as you start to move and prepare for the banishment. You all move fluidly, used to working together like this to prepare everything. You rifle through your bag, sifting through your crystals until you find a handful that should work.

Jungkook, Mingyu, and Jeongyeon work to set up tripods for your normal filming cameras - two in the corner pointing towards the middle of the room where Siobhan sits. Jeongyeon then makes a thick line of salt in the doorway to the bedroom and around the sills of the two locked windows.

“As soon as we draw him out, you’ll head straight for the door and shut it behind you to be safe, okay? Don’t come in here unless we tell you to.” Siobhan nods at your instructions. Given that this demon has his sights set on her, you’re having her stick around for now as you see if you can get him to so himself. I’m going to go into a meditation state so I can enter what’s called the in-between to try and see if he’s here and we just can’t see him in our world. Hopefully, he’s more likely to be spotted with you here.”

“Everyone ready?” You pose the question to the room and get collective answers of agreement.

With you in front of Siobhan, you take a deep breath and fish your aquamarine crystal out of your bag. The small blue stone has always aided in clearing your mind and letting you focus on everything in a room with you, which includes any being, whether of this world or another.

Namjoon begins reciting a summoning spell from behind you, calling the demon out into the open while you center yourself. Quickly, you fall into a standing meditation, your body feeling lighter. When you slowly open your eyes, the room around you becomes hazy as if covered in a light film. You can hear Namjoon, his voice is muffled behind you as you take in your surroundings.

At first, everything around you looks as it does normally. It’s not until your eyes land on a hand mirror on Siobhan’s desk that you see something out of the ordinary. Upon approaching it, you watch as it glows red - the telltale sign that it’s haunted.

You move to grab it, but as soon as your hand makes contact with the handle, it burns and you pull your hand back with a hiss. While holding your breath, you approach it, peering down to peek into the reflection.

All at once the sensation of ice water being poured over you hits and you reel backward. You hadn’t even noticed this familiar mirror in the room. You remember feeling the stifling feeling when you first entered the bedroom yesterday, but not once could you have guessed that this would be the source of the negativity.  

“Hey, Y/n. Long time no see.” The deep, gritty voice speaks from the mirror and it immediately has you stumbling and knocking you back from the in-between.

Your eyes pop open and you see Namjoon in front of you, looking worried.

“Siobhan, downstairs!” She scrambles up out of her chair at your words without a second thought and rushes past you. Jeongyeon holds the door open for her, then shuts it tight.

“Joon, we need to -”

The loud sound of someone clearing their throat on the other side of Siobhan’s room stops you. Everyone turns to look and sees him sitting on her desk with his legs perfectly crossed.

He looks just like the posters lining Siobhan’s wall. Same touseled dark hair, round cheeks, and soft smile but it’s not him. This demon can take the form of whatever he pleases; usually the appearance of whatever his latest victim pleases. You know this to be true because you remember this very same voice coming from the body of your teenage crush, sitting in your room when you were the same age as her. How could you have been so stupid not to put the pieces together? Sure what she’s been experiencing is typical of near possessions but you just knew the air in this house was especially foreboding and oh-so-familiar. You’d even missed the hand mirror sitting on her vanity.

“What are you doing here?” Your words are sharp and you hope they sound as vicious as they did in your head.

The demon throws his head back to laugh, and it only serves to frustrate you more. “What do you think, Y/n? I’m still looking for a bride. Would you believe after all these years, I haven’t been able to find anyone like you? But, Siobhan, well she’s different. She reminds me so much of you.” He grins at you, clearly wanting to provoke you.

Namjoon shifts behind you, his hand grabbing your arm to bring you closer.

“Y/n, do you know this demon?” You nod. You wish you didn’t. You’ve spent more than a decade pushing him out of your mind and yet here he is, as smug as he was when he haunted you in your bedroom all those years ago.

“Namjoon, get the banishing spell ready.” You hear him rustling behind you, flipping through the pages of his spellbook. “Jungkook, Mingyu, get your crystals ready - we’re going to need your help.”

“You can do whatever it is you want. You can’t get rid of me.” The demon laughs from across the room.

“I did once.”

He stands to his feet and stretches, seemingly uncaring about your words.

“Little girl, that was simply a fluke. I won’t let you cast me away again.” His red eyes bore into yours but you refuse to back down. You grip the black tourmaline crystal that always hangs around your neck, your other hand already reaching into your shoulder bag to swap out the crystals in hand.

With his spell book in hand, Namjoon sidles up next to you. Jungkook and Mingyu stand on either side of the two of you, staring back at the demon.

“This won’t take long.” You fish a flew fluorite crystals out of your bag. “Jungkook, grab your smoky quartz. Mingyu, you get your shungite. We need to get him out and keep him out.”

“What’s his name?” Namjoon asks once he’s ready.

You glare at the demon’s smug face and watch as he puts his hands in his pockets. You want to believe you can do this but his confidence is a bit jarring.

“Asmodeus.” At the sound of his name, the demon’s grin only widens, all of his sharp teeth on display now. Your husband lets out a small gasp from next to you but quickly recovers as he begins to recite the spell.

Jungkook and Mingyu join him, reciting the words after him under their breaths. Gripping your crystals, you hold them up toward the demon, repeating his name over and over again. The furniture in the room begins to wobble and an unknown wind picks up.

“Give it a rest already!” Asmodeus calls out, stumbling backward. His wings unfurl and he crouches in response, planting his feet on the carpet.

Namjoon only gets louder as do Jungkook and Mingyu. With most other demons, you and Namjoon can banish them yourselves, but you know this one. You can barely recall how you had the strength to banish him from your life at seventeen, but you’ve always accepted that you had been lucky when you did it alone after researching him, but something tells you this won’t be so easy.

“Asmodeus!” You yell sternly, rubbing the bumpy, purple-ish crystals around in your hand. The combination of the crystals along with knowing the demon’s name and the banishing spell should be enough. It should, but you can see Asmodeus is only getting seemingly more and more agitated.

He’s frowning now, eyes darting between all of you as none of you relent. The wind in the room picks up as you watch one of Siobhan’s lamps go flying across the room, whizzing in front of you.

“It’s not going to fucking work! I will be taking that girl with me!” The demon growls, eyes blazing as he flaps his wings and hovers in the air. You take a step back but continue.

Everything else happens faster than you can account for. Asmodeus crosses his arms around his body making an x-shape before uncrossing them, sending everything around the room airborne. Papers, books, and stuffed animals whirl around the room and you duck to avoid them. Jungkook grunts from your side as a shoe hits him in the leg, but he only falters for a second. When you all duck to avoid Siobhan’s nightstand smashing into the wall, Asmodeus dashes through the air across the room.

He soars over your head and you can only watch in panic as he goes careening into Jeongyeon.

“Jeongyeon!” You sprint forward, intending to grab her arm, but you’re not quick enough. You can only watch in horror as the demon crashes through the door, sending Jeongyeon flying with it as both the tattered wood and her tumble through the air and backward toward the top of the stairs. She lands back first on the door and it slides down, tumbling to the first floor.

The four of you scramble out of the room and down the stairs to her side.

“Jeongyeon?! Jeongyeon can you hear me?!” You lean down to listen to her breathe. “She’s still breathing. Someone call an ambulance!”

Mingyu quickly grabs his phone, dialing 911 next to you. Namjoon is across from you and surveys the room, the demon is nowhere to be found. The Jacksons are huddled in the entryway to the living room while Jungkook talks with them, assumedly doing damage control. An occasional cut or scrape or even getting shoved by an entity is one thing, but tumbling down a flight of stairs is another.

“Y/n the doctor says she’ll be fine. She’s just bruised and her arm is sprained. She said she was lucky the door broke her fall. It could’ve been really bad if she’d gone down with nothing behind her.”

“Fuck, Joon I know, I just feel terrible. I should’ve known that we’d need help. He was so smug and confident - why didn’t I know that he was stronger?!”

You’re pacing outside of Jeongyeon’s hospital room. She suffered a concussion on top of the sprain, but she’ll bounce back. You glance in through the door that’s been left ajar as she talks to the doctor inside. The guilt is still strong though. Mingyu and Jungkook stayed at the house with the Jacksons. Asmodeus will only be more agitated at this point and could attempt to possess Siohan at any time. You and Namjoon will need to get back soon, but you needed to be sure Jeongyeon is alright.

Namjoon comes over and grabs your shoulders, stopping you mid-stride. “Y/n, hey, it’s okay. You couldn’t have possibly known for sure. I remember you telling me about being haunted when you were a teenager, but you couldn’t have known for sure it was him. Besides, it’s been over a decade.”

Letting out a tired whimper, you fall into his arms, burying your head in his chest. “What do we do? Do we need more help?”

“Already taken care of. Remember Yoongi?”

“Min Yoongi? The guy that you met in that demon subreddit?”

“Yeah. He’s here in the city for a friend’s wedding, but I texted him on the way and he agreed to meet us at the Jacksons’ tomorrow morning. He’s going to help us banish Asmodeus. I think with someone as knowledgeable as him we can do it. We also need to do a little more research ourselves before we get back in there and do this.”

Sighing, you lift your head to look up at him. “We have to get rid of him. I know what he’s like - I know what Siobhan is going through. We have to help her, Joon.”

Your husband gives you his infamous sweet, dimpled smile.

“Everything’ll be okay, Y/n. We’ll help her and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.” Namjoon leans down to gently kiss you, reassurance and warmth spread through you at the softness of his lips. These moments with Namjoon almost make you feel like a normal couple living a normal life. Almost.

The doctor comes out of Jeongyeon’s room then and you pull away reluctantly.

“She’s still okay, right?” You ask as soon as she joins you in the hallway.

“She is. Her concussion isn’t too much of a concern, she just needs to take it easy. You can go in and see her if you want.” You return the doctor’s friendly smile and rush in, pulling Namjoon behind you.

“Jeongyeon!” She’s sitting up in bed, looking out the window. She looks tired, and you can see the bruising on her arm that’s not in a sling, but overall she still smiles at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. Sore, but that’s the worst of it.”

“Well, tomorrow we’ll make sure you’re comfortable at the hotel with everything you need before heading out.”

She shakes her head, immediately shutting that down. “No way. I’m coming with you.”

“But your arm is-”

“It’s just a sprain.”

“You shouldn’t move it much.”

“I won’t! Plus, I’m ambidextrous so I can do everything else as normal.”

Frowning, you place your hand over hers. “This could get dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

She flips her hand over to hold yours. “I knew what I was getting into when I took this job. Danger comes with the territory. I promise I’ll be fine and I can keep going.”

The two of you have a short staredown, your nervous expression meeting her reassuring one. Reluctantly, you agree with the rule that she works the camera and does not help with any of the equipment.

She agrees and it’s not long until she’s discharged and you’re able to go back to the hotel and regroup. You already know Namjoon wants to question you more about Asmodeus, but he’s kind enough to leave it be for now. You need the rest of the day to prepare for the next banishment attempt. With you being so familiar with this demon, it’s succeeded in rattling you in a way you’re not quite used to.

Min Yoongi is only two years older than Namjoon, but he’s still had much more experience. He was lucky enough to start studying demonology earlier in his life and was able to learn exorcisms much more quickly due to an uncle that happened to do the same line of work. He and Namjoon met online a handful of years ago and have met in person a few times. Usually, they just hang out for fun but this is the first time Yoongi will be helping you with a job.

“So you've banished him before?” Yoongi questions, sitting across from you at the kitchen table. He’s met you all at the Jacksons’ home in the morning. He’d done more research on Asmodeus as did Namjoon so they’d have more knowledge, but you’d had yet to give your full personal testimonial until now.

“Yeah. Long story short, we moved into a new house when I was fifteen. It’s actually in a town not too far from here. I knew something was weird about my room the day we moved in. I remember hearing voices and feeling a presence and it all traced back to that old mirror that was under a floorboard in my room. It wasn’t until my seventeenth birthday that Asmodeus revealed himself. He was in the form of my crush at the time and -”

“Who was it?”

Jungkook interrupts your story with the question.

“Who was what?”

“Who was your crush at the time?” Jeongyeon flicks him on the shoulder and he groans. “What?!”

“This is what you want to ask?”

“Just to help visualize it!”

“It was Omarion,” you roll your eyes at him as he and Mingyu snicker from next to him. “Anyway, he was nice to me just like Siobhan, then I turned eighteen and he told me wanted me to be his bride. I refused and so he started tormenting me. Destroying our house, scaring the shit out of us. He even killed our family dog and uh - he possessed me briefly.” You gulp at the memory. “The pain of having yourself violated in the form of possession is one I can’t describe. It’s cold, it hurts, and it feels so utterly lonely. Like you’re watching everything through your own eyes but you’re trapped in an empty room that feels so claustrophobic.”

“How old is he?” Mingyu questions.

“Thousands of years old,” Namjoon answers for you, noticing how retelling this story is making you uncomfortable. “According to what I’ve found on him, he’s been doing this for centuries even. He’s a demon of greed and lust and he preys on women hoping to take them from their bodies and take them with him for eternity. Think of it like he’s a screwed-up Hades and Persephone-like situation. He seems to get banished here and there and that mirror is definitely how he gets access to our world, but that’s as far as he gets banished to and it seems to only be temporary. The mirror itself just gets passed from thrift store to thrift store, getting picked up by unsuspecting people. Siobhan found it at a Goodwill a few years ago which is when this all started for her.”

“But we want to banish him for good this time,” You say matter-of-factly. “That’s where you come in, Yoongi. We need help with the spell since we need to do a different one to get rid of him for good. We want to send him away, but make sure he can’t pop up again. He’s one of the stronger forces we’ve dealt with and we need the manpower. We also need to narrow down the right crystals - stronger ones. Once he’s gone, we’ll take the mirror back to Korea with us and store it away so he can’t even come back if he wanted to.”

Yoongi takes off the backpack he’s wearing at your words and opens it, revealing a bunch of shimmering crystals.

“I brought some that I thought could come in handy. I was researching him yesterday and think these could do the trick.” You sort through the bag, recognizing the various crystals and nodding.

“Thank you! I think we could use most of these. He’s strong but he’s certainly not unbeatable.”

“When are you doing this?” Siobhan asks from the corner of the room. She and her parents have been here the whole time listening to you all go back and forth.

“Tonight. It’s best not to wait too long since we just had this run-in. We need to stay on top of him now that he’s shown himself. We’ll get him.”

It takes the rest of the day for everyone to prepare for the second banishment. Mingyu and Jungkook go over the spell over and over again for practice while you all prepare the basement. Asmodeus was able to leave Siobhan’s bedroom before, but if you trap him in the basement he can’t leave so easily.

You all work together to remove as much furniture from the room as you can so you don’t have any flying objects hurling at you again. With it being a bigger space, you need a few more cameras and Jeongyeon spreads the salt along the basement stairs and at the bottom to try and ensure he won’t be able to go anywhere. The basement is finished with an attached bathroom where Siobhan and Jeongyeon will take cover once Asmodeus shows himself again. The mirror sits in the middle of the room on the floor.

Wasting no time, you all get into position again, calling him out to him to show himself. He does it rather quickly but in the form of destruction.

“You can’t beat me!” Asmodeus bellow as all around the room, the ceiling and walls thump as if he’s zipping around the room punching every surface he comes in contact with. He’s going to show himself soon since he’s trapped.

“Asmodeus! Show yourself!” You scream at him, watching the ball of grey smoke bounce around the room before beelining for the mirror. Before it hits the mirror, the demon veers to the left at the last minute, knocking into Siobhan and sending her backward.

“Siobhan!” The girl flails around on the floor, gasping and scratching at the air.

“He’s possessing her! Someone put a salt circle around her now!” Yoongi directs, pointing at Siobhan’s figure. Jeongyeon acts first having been the last one with the salt and hurries to make a circle around the girl before she finally settles down, lying flat on her back for a brief moment. In the next blink, she shoots upright, head whipping around in your direction and hissing.

“Oh, fuck,” you catch Jungkook mumble from next to you.

“Recite the spell, now!” Yoongi calls, thumbing through his notebook.

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Mingyu surround Asmodeus, chanting in unison, crystals held out in front of them as they go.

Your feet are planted in front of the demon, watching as the gusts of wind enveloping you all turn grey and pick up faster. It doesn’t disturb the salt circle since it’s acting as an invisible wall, but you can see the demon getting increasingly agitated.

“Asmodeus! Leave this place and never return!” You bellow with as much bass as you can muster. You’re not nervous as before, only angry. Angry that you have to face this entity once more, but you will get rid of him for good.

The house shakes underneath your feet and Asmodeus roars at you, serpent tongue on full display, but you refuse to back down. He seems to sense your unwavering confidence as his eyes dart around the group. Siobhan’s shoulders slump before she starts to choke and gasp. Her eyes begin to bulge and her lips start to pale. He’s choking her from the inside out.

“No!” He’s going to kill her as he goes out - you can tell it just from the way her body is struggling for air. “Let her go!” Screeching at him, you step closer, holding out the palm-sized black jasper. Asmodeus hisses, Siobhan’s fist tightening, wheezing more.

He’s supposed to be getting weaker, not able to still have the strength to do this. Wracking your brain you try and think of something. All of the men in the room are still chanting at the demon, which is at least weakening him enough that he can’t break through the barrier, but you need to distract him. Take his attention off of hurting Siobhan long enough to allow the chance to finally send him away.

“Stop it and take me instead!” The words tumble out before you can think and it immediately catches the demon’s attention.

Blown-out pupils meet yours, studying you. “Just like that? You’re finally ready to be mine?” He asks through Siobhan’s choked tone.

You bite your tongue and nod, hoping you can convince him. Demons may be tricky, but in your line of work you’ve learned, they can be extremely gullible most of the time especially when you dangle something they want the most in front of them. Out of the corner of your eye, Namjoon stares, trying to get your attention. He’s steadfast in his words but you didn’t discuss this as a backup plan.

“Say it. Tell me you want to be my bride.”

Gripping your crystals so tight in your hand that it hurts, you mumble out the words he wants to hear. You need to let him start to possess you. That will be when the rest of his powers are the weakest and his guard will be down so he’ll finally banish away.

“Get rid of this salt circle then. And tell these idiots to stop babbling at me.”

“Do as he says!”

“But, Y/n-”

“Please, Mingyu just listen to him.” You stare at him, your eyes flickering to each one of them, Namjoon last. The only thing you can hope for is that he knows what your plan is. As soon as Asmodeus begins possessing you they need to start chanting again.

Your husband gives you a curt nod and tries to inconspicuously meet the gaze of the three other men to communicate with them as well.

On shaky legs you approach Asmodeus, the demon smirking sickly at you, waiting patiently to be released. You gingerly reach a foot out and swipe away a portion of the salt. As soon as it's gone, Siobhan’s hand comes out to grab your arm, dark eyes boring into yours.

Suddenly, her body starts to spasm, the hand gripping you tightening its hold. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as her back arches almost painfully. She lets out a scream, making you wince at the frequency, and then as quickly as it happened, it’s over. Siobhan falls to the ground in front of you, knocked out cold.

“Siobhan!” Moving to kneel, you intend to check her pulse, but you’re stopped by another grasp of your arm. When you’ve spun around, you’re finally faced with Asmodeous’ true form once again.

He’s seemingly eight feet tall, covered in what you can only describe as jet-black scales, his bat-like wings looking far bigger than they had in his fake form. Large, pointed ears pivot in your direction along with blazing red eyes and menacing teeth. The demon’s face can only be described as resembling a storybook goblin, complete with a long nose and wrinkly features. His black, spiraled horns look sharp enough to cut you as do his long, spindly fingers and pointy claws. Seeing him in front of you brings you back to the night in your room when you banished him all alone. You had nearly been in tears and ready to piss yourself, but this time, you feel a confidence you lacked then.

“Hello, my dear.” His claws trace down your arm and you have to hold your breath. “Don’t look so upset. You’re going to love it with me. Much more than with him.” Asmodeus sneers over your shoulder at Namjoon and you don’t have to see your husband’s face to know it is sure to be filled with fury.

His hands are as cold as ice and he brings both hands up to cup your face. You keep your hands at your side, fists clenched. The demon gives you one more grin as he begins. Pins and needles shoot through you in an instant, making you scream. Your eyelids flutter, but you fight to keep them open. Asmodeus’ crimson eyes almost hurt to look at as they glow as your limbs start to feel heavy.

Namjoon’s voice booms nearby, starting to recite the banishment spell. The others follow suit, their voices sounding much louder than before. The demon in front of you pulls away from you momentarily, yelling loud enough that your ears begin ringing. He closes his eyes for a split second, but it’s enough time that you can break out of the trance he attempted to put you under. Swiftly, you reach up, wrapping your arms around the demon to keep him in place. You press the black jasper into his back, making him screech again and tumble backward with you still wrapped around him.

Namjoon is at your side in a flash, followed closely by Jungkook and they work to hold him down as they speak. Mingyu and Yoongi follow, holding down the rest of him.

The demon flails underneath you all but isn’t getting away which means he’s much weaker than before. The grey, smokey wind that he emits fills the room again, whipping faster and faster. Asmodeus growls and the house shakes again. In the corner of the room, it sounds like the walls are cracking, but none of you relent.

“Asmodeus!” You yell, right in his face. “Leave this place! Forever!” You shove the black jasper into his stomach and he shrieks again. You watch as the demon underneath you begins turning into the same grey smoke that circles your head. Hist legs are first followed by the arm currently in Jungkook’s grasp.

“You lying bitch!” The demon spits at you, rage that you’ve never seen written across his ugly face. He’s only an arm, a head, and a torso at this point, and right before he starts to lose his last remaining limb, he uses the remainder of his strength to bring his hands up, claws spread out, ready to inflict damage.

You notice too late, and can only watch as he swings his hand at you.

Before he makes contact with you, Namjoon is in front of you, shielding your body from the attack and you can only watch in horror as the demon’s razer-like claws slash across Namjoon’s chest. Blood splatters out, spraying the demon right before he vanishes completely, a final shriek ringing in the air as he turns to complete smoke, which then wafts up into the air and evaporates.

The room is silent for only a second, giving you long enough to register what just happened.

“Namjoon!” The scream that leaves your lips sounds almost foreign as you scramble to your husband’s side. You roll him over, watching the blood seep from the deep slashes in his skin. He doesn’t move and his eyes don’t open but you can see his injured chest rise and fall, albeit slowly. Yanking off your sweatshirt, you press it to his wounds, attempting to stop the bleeding.

Around you, everyone is rushing. You think you hear Jungkook’s voice talking into his phone, telling whoever is on the other line the address for the Jackson’s house. Yoongi and Mingyu get to work cleansing the room and Jeongyeon gingerly wraps up the mirror, securing it in a small locked box. Tears blur your vision as you whimper his name, begging him to wake up.

Everything is white noise to you - Namjoon is your only focus. Making sure he’s okay, checking his pulse. The ambulance arrives after what feels like hours and moves you away to take him. You follow close behind, waving in Jeongyeon’s direction when she says they’ll be right behind you and the ambulance. You don’t take any notice of the way you’re shivering in your tank top as the October air fills the back of the ambulance. You’ll brave the cold to be by Namjoon’s side.

Being in another hospital room in the same week is a record for you. Namjoon is still asleep and has been since he was attacked. The steady beep of the lifeline machine has lulled you to sleep the past two nights you spent curled up in the uncomfortable recliner by his side. Everyone has been by since he’s been admitted. Jeongyeon insisted on staying with you but you sent her back to the hotel to rest.

It’s early when you check the bedside clock, getting up from your curled position to stretch. Namjoon is still asleep when you look at him, his breathing even and quiet.

You quickly duck into the bathroom in the room to brush your teeth and wash your face. Namjoon should be waking up any time now and even after all these years, you want to look good for him.

“Hi, Y/n.” Siobhan’s voice startles you when you leave the bathroom. She, along with her parents and their other two children are all standing in the doorway of the room.

“Oh hi, how are you doing?”

“Much better. Last night was the most restful sleep we’ve had in months.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Siobhan surprises you by rushing over and pulling you into a hug. Her siblings follow suit and hug you as well. They’re all thanking you and all you can do is say you’re welcome. Her parents hug you next, giving you more thank yous and telling you how grateful they are.

They stay with you for a few minutes to talk about Namjoon and how he’s doing. He’s still asleep as you gaze at him, taking in his beautiful features, feeling the lurch in your heart when you think of the way he smiles at you and how he says your name.

As if noticing the shift in your mood upon talking about your husband, Mona announces it’s time to leave and they all say their goodbyes. You walk them to the door and before they leave, Siobhan turns to you once more and grabs your hand.

“Seriously, thank you again.” She says it quieter and you can hear the sincerity in her words. You squeeze her hand in return and watch as the family leaves.

After they’re gone, it’s quiet again and you feel yourself starting to feel a new sadness wash over you - the sorrow of missing and worrying for Namjoon, but that’s cut short upon arrival when you turn around.

Namjoon is struggling to sit up in bed, wincing to himself.

“Joon!” You rush over to the bed, holding a pillow behind him as he leans up, settling back.

“Hey.” Tears well as you grab his hand, bringing it up to your lips.

“You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” he rasps. His voice sounds hoarse, so you hurry to grab the water pitcher next to the bed and pour him a cup. After you hold it to help him drink, you set the cup down and go back to holding his hand. “Was someone just here? When I was starting to come to I thought I heard other voices.”

“The Jacksons just left. They stopped by to thank us and see how you were doing. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted. I’m ready to go home and sleep in my own bed.”

“Not so fast. You’ve been asleep for two days straight and your whole torso is wrapped in bandages. He didn’t do any fatal damage, but you lost a lot of blood.” A sniffle slips out and Namjoon notices.

“Hey, hey I’m okay though. The demon’s gone and I’m alive and you’re safe.” Even in a hospital bed with an injury of his caliber, he’s still your strong, level-headed, loving husband. As carefully as you can, you lean over the bed to kiss him. “Wait, wait, I have crusty unconscious breath!” He tries to turn his head away with minimal effort.

“Don’t care.” You murmur as your lips meet in a long, closed-mouth kiss. His lips are just as pillowy and comforting as always.

When you pull away, the two of you share a sigh.

“I’ll go let the doctors know you’re up. They’ll want to check on you and I’m sure they’ll know when we can go home.” Reluctantly, you let his hand go and head to the door.

“Hey, Y/n,” you stop when Namjoon calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“I think when we get home it’s about time we go on vacation. I think I need some time in the sun, on a beach somewhere. Far away from anything demon related.”

With a smile, you nod. “Sounds like a plan.” Your husband blows you a tired kiss on your way out and it makes your heart soar as usual.

You hum to yourself as you leave the room, heart, full of ease and love. You all haven’t taken a vacation in probably a year, so it’s something that is desperately needed.

While waiting for a nurse to return to the nurses' station, your phone beeps with an email notification.

EXORCIST INQUIRY!!

The words are in all caps and even read loudly to your eyes. With a sigh, you open the email and skim it. Your team is needed as soon as possible in California to help a woman’s son who, as she described, is behaving “just like Regan from The Exorcist!!”

You mull over the next steps before typing out a response to the woman, informing her that you had an emergency in New York, but will attempt to get to them soon. You let her know that you’ll know for sure by end of the day and will give her more information.

Jeongyeon also receives your emails and you already know she’s going to text you soon about how you should be resting with Namjoon, but you’re prepared for her nagging. Namjoon will be disappointed that a seaside vacation will need to take a backseat for now.

As long as demons and ghosts still break through to our world, the work of a paranormal investigator is truly never done.

[koutarostiddies]

What if...?

Nishinoya and you are best friends and never once questioned anything about your friendship, until a series of questions ended up turning your friendship on it's head. This will be a multi part fic since it got a bit long.

CW: Alcohol, but only mentions of drinking. Just friends kissing.

PT 2.

"What if we kiss?" was asked so matter-of-factly that you almost missed it. Maybe it was because it was said at your graduation party and he was headed out of the country the next day or maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it definitely wasn't a question you expected from your best friend. Then again it was spontaneous enough to have come from him. 

"You should really cut back on the alcohol, Noya."

"Yuu," he tightened his grip on the glass. He wasn't nervous, far from it, he was confident that you'd say yes. He was just a little annoyed that after years, no, nearly two decades of friendship that you still called him Noya.

"What?" You raised your brow. 

"We've been friends for fifteen years, I think it's about time you call me by my given name." You bit your lip knowing he was right, but you never thought it was something that bothered him. You also had to admit that you really loved calling him 'Noya' and 'Nishi'.

"Okay. But back to your earlier question," You traced the rim of the glass you held as you stared at your lap. "Are you sure?"

"Kinda always wanted to do it. Besides I'm leaving tomorrow so why not?"

You hated how carefree he was sometimes. How could he ask you something like that as if he was asking to borrow a pencil, but you had to admit it was an idea you tied with yourself. All the playful flirting never got in the way of your friendship and if it got awkward at least he was leaving the country for a while so time could take care of it. With a drawn out sigh you placed your glass onto the table and looked up at your friend. "Sure. But promise me it won't be weird. Like it won't ruin our friendship." You knew that neither of you could make such a promise. You knew that you just wanted reassurance, no matter how empty. 

"Promise," he held out his pinky and smiled when you hooked yours around it. Before you had a chance to pull away he pulled into his arms and his lips were on yours. Noya never did anything half assed, never went into any situation with caution– he either jumped in head first or not at all and the same went for kissing. His hands cupped your face as he swallowed your moans. The kiss was passionate, one you didn't expect to share with someone you had never thought of in a romantic light. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as your kiss deepened; his tongue gliding alongside yours only setting your body alight. You leaned into it even more as you felt his fingers tickle the nape of your neck. Your fingers clutched his shirt as you started to climb onto his lap and he made no attempt to stop you. Your head was swimming as you lost yourself in the kiss only being pulled out of your haze when you heard someone clearing their throat. 

"Do you guys mind taking this somewhere else?" Tsukki stood near the couch frowning down at you. 

"No, here's just fine." Noya smiled up at him as Tsukishima clenched his jaw before turning on his heels. You couldn't help but laugh as you fell into him. "We probably should get going anyways," Noya kissed your cheek before standing up. "Ready?"

The next day was like any other time when he went overseas. You hugged each other, promising to keep in touch. Just like promised, it didn't get awkward. 

Almost four months later he was back in Japan. You caught each other up on your lives apart. You regaled him with your boring work stories and dating horror stories. His stories, while more exciting, seemed to bore him. 

You headed back to his place and decided to watch your favorite movie together. You felt the couch cushion shift as he moved closer. "Can I kiss you again?" This time his question was more cautious. The kiss was never brought up again,  everything went back to normal– as if nothing ever happened, but that didn't mean he never wanted to do it again. You nodded and soon the movie was forgotten. 

He decided to stay in Japan for a year and you started to spend more time together. The kissing became commonplace, yet somehow you managed to maintain your friendship without any awkwardness. 

Once again it was the day before another overseas departure and again an attempt was made at watching a movie at his place. Said attempt failed as you found your lips locked once more. Noya pulled away, tucking some hair behind your ear. He wanted to say something, you had known him long enough to know his tells. His hand moved down to your neck, his fingertips delicately tracing circles against your soft skin.

"Yuu?"

[mrs-dr-reid]

My Personal Bucky Barnes Headcanons

Part 1/?

He’s stupidly good at hide and seek. So much so that you have to buy a metal detector, because he can literally go unfound for a week and a half because of his “ghost of HYDRA” training

He was genuinely terrified of microwaves when he first came back. Because “why is it beeping at me, Y/N? What do you mean the food is ready?! It’s only been two minutes, I don’t understand!!!”

He hoards Girl Scout cookies and stashes them in the weirdest places. You move the couch to dust behind it and find 6 boxes of Tag-Alongs, you’re restocking the linen closet and find 4 boxes of Do-Si-Dos behind the good towels, and you almost have a heart attack when you open the hatch to your attic to grab the Christmas decorations and 14 boxes of Thin Mints fall out

He takes you out dancing every Friday night when he can, especially if he can find Throwback Sockhop Nights near you guys and you can get all decked out in 40s fashion and make an evening of it

For a while he was really self conscious about his metal arm and only ever wore long sleeves and gloves, but the longer he’s with you the more his confidence goes up, and eventually he’s confident enough to go topless at the beach (which is a good thing for the both of you *wink wonk*)

He loves karaoke. If you guys are out with the team at a bar and there’s a karaoke machine, you bet your ass he’s going over there and absolutely KILLING whatever Frank Sinatra song he can find. One time he even got you to perform “Somethin’ Stupid” with him

He either drives like a maniac or a grandpa. There’s no in between. You’re either massaging your temples because he’s driving fifteen under the speed limit, or you’re white-knuckling the “Oh Shit Handle” because “JESUS CHRIST, JAMES, WE ARE NOT IN A CAR CHASE, WHY ARE YOU GOING SO FAST?!!?!?”

His table manners were ATROCIOUS when he first met you. Since he had limited social interaction for 70+ years, he would eat everything with his fingers and a frickin tactical knife and chew like a goddamn llama. After months of work, he eats with actual utensils and chews like a normal person now

He taught himself how to crochet when he was bored out of his mind on a stakeout once, and now y’all’s house is littered with little animals he made and pattern books. Your favorite is the little turtle he made that’s wearing the Cap uniform and has a shell that looks like the shield while he’s partial to the pigeon he purposely added Sam’s headgear to

Peter gets him hooked on Star Wars, and now they have lightsaber duels around the compound all the time (because of COURSE Tony helped them make functioning lightsabers. Peter’s is blue and Bucky’s yellow)

Much like his best buddy Steve Rogers, he’s a gentleman to a fault. Always gives you his arm when you’re walking anywhere, opens doors for you, pulls chairs out for you when you go out to eat, and is constantly kissing the back of your hand

He’s very wary of trains when he first comes back because of the accident, but after some time and “exposure therapy” (aka making him take the train with you to various places) he gets over it

You buy him a box set of all the “Lord of the Rings” books for his birthday, and he cruises through all of them in about a month, then he makes you marathon the movies with him

He’s a gigantic cuddle monster. If he had a say, he’d just become a blanket burrito for the rest of his life, and cocoon you in his pile of blankets for the rest of yours. If he can hold you as close as he can while watching cheesy romcoms, he’s happy

He gets really into laser tag and paintball, because why wouldn’t he use his assassin training for something fun and harmless as a final “fuck you” to HYDRA? The only problem is that he gets too good at it and nobody wants to play with him, so now he just goes to random arenas where no one knows who he is and destroys a bunch of teenagers for shits and giggles

He accidentally stumbles upon bullet journaling, and it becomes his entire personality for a month and a half. He’s a lot more casual about it now, mainly because he was just so excited to find something that would help him get all of his thoughts no matter the subject material out of his head and onto paper. He used to go all out with very specific themes for his journals, but now he just says “this month my journal is green, next month, perhaps it will be blue”

He overreacts to jump scares. He can’t handle them. Horror games, scary movies, spooky tv shows, you name it. He can’t do them. So obviously Sam exploits the hell out of that and scares the shit out of him whenever he can

He gets really into Animal Crossing. Like… REALLY into Animal Crossing. He makes his little character look exactly like him minus the metal arm, curates the cutest little outfits once he gets his mits on a wand, cycles through all of the villagers until he gets a collection of them that remind him of all of his friends and you, makes his island look like if the Compound was a college campus, and completes the whole musuem in the shortest amount of time possible

[ilovefandoms102]

Suga Daddy-Part4*

Pairing: Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader, Chris Evans x Sugar Baby! Plus Size! Reader

Summary: You get payback when Daddy leaves for a business trip…little did you know that’d come back to bite you in the ass.

Note: So sorry this took so long but here we go😁

Warnings🛑: age gap(reader is graduated from college), sugar daddy/ sugar baby relationship, smut(unprotected vaginal sex, punishment, spanking, choking, degradation, oral(male and fem receiving), dom/sub aspects, daddy kink, overstim, slight dubcon, squirting)

Part 3

Don’t forget to hit that reblog button so others can find this!

It’s expensive to date me

If you want it then pay me

I’ve been looking for a man who wants to spoil his baby

Cause i’m way too sexy

To be alone with you

In this bedroom for free (ooh oh no)

Told me he’s in room fifteen oh three (fifteen oh three)

And he said he’d do anything for me (for me)

So I showed him my favourite Prada bag (Prada bag)

Won’t fuck him ‘til he gives me the receipt

(Periodt)

Your relationship with Chris was hitting the one year mark soon, and you expected him to absolutely spoil you. However, Chris dropped a bomb on you.

“A work trip?! During our anniversary?!” you screeched, stomping your foot like a child.

“I’m sorry pretty, I really am, but Daddy has to work.” Chris sighed, unsurprised this is how you would act.

“You literally own the place! You could have postponed it!” you huffed, your brattiness going to the extreme.

“There are some really important people I need to meet with honey-” he explained.

“Oh! So now work is more important than me?!” you laughed humorlessly.

“Do not speak over me, little girl.” Chris growled, hating when you interrupted him.

He closes the space between the two of you, tilting your chin up. You pouted up at him, disappointment and sadness in your eyes. It broke Chris’ heart, he wanted to always make you happy.

“I’m sorry my love,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your cheek before heading to his office.

Chris left two days after your argument, not even giving you a proper goodbye. Granted, you were still mad at him, so you didn’t much care for his touch. He didn’t even tell you how long he’d be gone, the last trip he went on for work lasted two weeks. Suddenly, a plan formed in your head. Sweet revenge was coming for your Daddy, and you’d pay for it, but you didn’t care. He needed a good punishment for leaving you alone on your anniversary.

You started by putting on his favorite lingerie set, covering it with one of his crisp button downs, and topped it off by letting your hair lose. Phone in hand, you hit the FaceTime icon. Chris picked up immediately, his beautiful face appearing on your screen. He looked to be in his hotel room, a luxurious one.

“Hi Daddy,” you greeted, pouting slightly.

“Hey pretty, miss you.” he murmured, taking in your gorgeous features.

“I miss you so much Daddy, I don’t like when you’re away.” you said as you looked down, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Is that my shirt baby?” he asked, a sly smirk forming.

“Mhmmm,” you grinned, your plan moving into formation.

“Let me see what’s under pretty.” he ordered, loosening his tie as he stared at the slight cleavage peeking out of your shirt.

“You wanna see Daddy?” you smirked, trailing a delicate hand down your neck and between your breasts to the first button on the shirt you’d clasped.

“Fuck yes baby, miss your beautiful body and how it feels. Jesus I’m so fuckin’ hard, take it off.” he all but growled at you.

You shivered at his words, almost reconsidering your decision. But…Daddy needed to pay for leaving you. You unbuttoned the first few, your breasts being exposed in the expensive lingerie. Chris held his breath as he stared at your chest, all the blood rushing to his cock at the sight of his favorite set on you. He wanted to rip it off, and devour you until the both of you were so exhausted you couldn’t leave bed for a few days.

“That sounds like fun baby, but I actually have to go.” you smiled as Chris’ eyes went wide.

“Are you fucking serious y/n!?” he shouted, groaning as he palmed his hard on. You knew you were in trouble since he used your name and not his usual pet names for you.

“Yeah, you see…I have some work to do.” you explained, a knowing look in your eyes made Chris catch on to what you’re doing.

“Pretty, don’t be a fucking brat. Daddy’s sorry for missing our anniversary, I promise we’ll celebrate when I get back.” he said softly, but his rage was about to be full blown.

“Bye,” you blew him a kiss before hanging up on him.

Chris was left stunned…and painfully hard.

A week had gone by since you’d heard from Chris, to say you were pissed was an understatement. Sure, maybe you went a bit overboard the last time you spoke, but you didn’t expect to get the silent treatment. Of course you did what any logical person would do in your situation, and took some extremely dirty pictures for your Daddy.

Chris was in the middle of a meeting when his phone vibrated, opening when he saw your name on his screen. His eyes widened, dick immediately hardening at the site of all the pictures you’d sent. He quickly closed his phone, excusing himself to the restroom.

Pushing his pants down once he got to a stall, he couldn’t resist jacking himself off. He couldn’t take this any longer, hitting the call button beside your name once he’d cum all over his hand.

“Chris?” you asked in a small voice, one that made him melt.

“You little minx, you’re really pushing it. Your ass is gonna be so fuckin’ sore when I get a hold of you. Pack a bag, you’re coming here.” he demanded.

“Hm, I don’t think so mister.” you countered.

“What do you want? I’ll get it for you, fuckin’ brat.” he hissed.

“Well…there’s this Prada bag I’ve been wanting.” you smirked, already sending him the link.

“Done, now pack a bag.” he gruffed.

“I will when I get the receipt Daddy.” you giggled, seconds later getting the email forwarded to you.

“Thank you daddy,” you smiled cunningly.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growled, hanging up the phone.

You were so excited to see your Daddy, but also terrified for what he had in store. A feeling told you that punishment was going to be merciless tonight, maybe you were a bit too bratty. Your heart thumped in your chest as the plane began its landing, the bright lights of the city lighting up the night sky.

Chris was waiting for you at the bottom of the steps of his private plane, his eyes lit up once he took all of you in. He’d missed you so much, his heart felt healed from the emptiness without you by his side. He was so in love with you, his girl. You squealed with excitement when you got to him, the love of your life.

“Chrisy!” you beamed, throwing yourself in his arms.

“My precious girl, oh baby I missed you.” he groaned as he held you tight.

“Missed you so, so much, don’t leave me again.” you whispered, pulling your head back to gaze into his eyes.

“Never ever my love,” he whispered back, smashing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

The sexual tension was almost unbearable on the ride to the hotel Chris had been staying at, you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. Chris smirked as you trailed your hands over his beard, his chest, even squeezing his thigh. He couldn’t wait to get back and absolutely wreck you.

“Daddy, why won’t you touch me.” you whined, crawling over his lap with a pout.

“Daddy doesn’t touch brats.” he murmured, his eyes like steel as they looked into yours.

“But-” you tried, squirming around in his lap.

You jumped as his hand gripped your jaw tightly, the growl that left his chest made your eyes go wide.

“Dumb little baby, so desperate for touch from her Daddy, but she’s a fuckin’ brat ‘cause she didn’t get her way.” he hissed, squeezing your jaw tighter.

“Sorry Daddy, I am!” you cried, gripping his suit jacket for dear life.

“Even made me buy you a fuckin’ Prada bag, most good girls would accept flowers or some damn chocolate, but my girl, oh no she wants the most expensive thing money can buy.” he degraded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

“But you love to spoil me,” you whimpered, batting your eyes at him.

“I do, but you’re so fuckin’ ungrateful.” he muttered, smirking as he threw you off his lap.

“Chris!” you whined, shrinking away when he scowled at you.

“You’re not being fair Daddy!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

The car stopped once it arrived at the hotel, Chris getting out first and holding his hand out for you. His face tightened when you turned your back to him, refusing to get out of the car. He was glad you all were at the private entrance so no paparazzi caught what he was about to do. You yelped as Chris quite literally man handled you out of the car, tossing you over his shoulder while he ordered the driver to bring your bags up to room 1503.

“Put me down!” you shouted, crying out as he slapped your ass hard.

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, stalking to the elevator.

You struggled against him the whole ride to his room, leaving both of you turned on to the max. Chris loved tossing you around like his personal doll, like now as he threw you on his bed after entering the penthouse suite.

“I was hoping for a nice reunion since we didn’t get to be together on our anniversary, but Daddy is happy to punish his stupid whore.” Chris taunted, your thighs squeezing together as your lower lip trembled at the humiliation.

Chris took his suit jacket off along with his button down, leaving him in just his black trousers. You soaked through your panties by just looking at him, he was so fucking sexy. His tattoos, his abs, the hair on his chest and stomach, and the little trail that led to his cock.

“Hands and knees little girl,” Chris commanded, grinning maliciously as you began to protest.

“Daddy, please! I’m sorry!” you pleaded, walking on your knees over to him.

Your hands brushed against his abs, sinking down to his cock. Chris snatched a hold of your throat before you could get to it, yanking you so you two were nose to nose.

“I’m not gonna tell you again.” he growled, harshly throwing you away from him.

You sniffled as you turned, getting into his wanted position. Chris joined you on the bed, his hands feeling all over your body. He’d missed the feel of you, but he was going to have so much fun punishing you.

“You know why you’re in trouble?” he questioned, tsking as you merely nodded.

His hand came down on your ass, harder than he’d ever spanked you before.

“I asked you a question.” he gruffed out, landing two more smacks.

“Ow! ‘m sorry Daddy! I was bad, I-I was mean a-and teased you.” you babbled as Chris continued his spanking.

“That’s right baby, I hope that Prada bag was worth it.” he chuckled evilly, moaning as you began crying the harsher his smacks were.

“Daddy! It hurts!” you sobbed.

“Hmmm, maybe I should get you naked so we can see just how bad I can hurt you.” he murmured, tearing off your clothes as he spoke.

Tears poured down your cheeks, your ass was definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. You yelped as Chris spanked your pussy, the filthy sound of how wet you’d gotten filled the room. Chris chuckled darkly at your moan, slapping directly on your clit until you came all over his hand.

“F-uck! Ugh- Daddy!” you squealed as Chris inserted two of his large fingers inside you, curling at just the right angle.

“Let’s see how many times you can make a mess for me tonight.” he smiled, darkness in his eyes as he continued fucking you with his fingers.

“Daddy I-I’m so close.” you said just as Chris dipped his free hand in his pants, grabbing his cock.

“You don’t have to wait babygirl, cum whenever you want.” he soothed, fucking into his fist along with his fingers inside you.

You wish he hadn’t said that after he pulled two more orgasms from you with just his fingers. Panting, your arms gave out as your face hit the mattress below. Chris flipped you on your back, discarding his pants and underwear as he crawled up your body. You moaned as his lips molded against yours, caressing your tongue in a passionate embrace. You whined when he pulled away, but quickly became frightened as he scooted up to straddle your chest.

“Daddy, what-” you stammered, gripping his enormous thighs.

“Shhhh, open.” he smirked, stroking himself as he guided his cock to your lips.

Usually, you’d be the one sitting on his face, but you couldn’t deny how insanely hot this position was as you took his cock down your throat. Chris cursed deep in his chest as he fucked your face, it had been a while since he had your mouth. The sweet whines emitting from you sent vibrations all through him, making his hips jolt harder than he’d meant to.

Spit was spewing from your lips, down your chin, and all over your chest as you gagged around him. He looked down at you with such adoration it made your heart thump, you played his game and reached out and slapped his perfect ass. It turned him on so much he came down your throat, thrusting himself all the way down so you were forced to swallow all his spend.

“Jesus baby, so fuckin’ hot.” he grumbled, pulling himself out with a wet pop from your lips sucking every last drop.

You smiled up at him, wiping your chin. Chris rubbed your cheek, trailing his finger down your chest to circle your nipple. You arched into him, groaning as he played with both of them. Once he had them nice and peaked, he kissed down your body to your dripping core, blowing air slightly causing your thighs to tremble.

“Please Daddy,” you sobbed, bucking your hips up.

“Shhhh little one,” Chris whispered, his head descending and wrapping his perfect lips around your aching clit.

“Oh-fuck Daddy,” you moaned, crushing his head between your thighs.

Chris growled, putting his all into eating his favorite meal. He got ten toe curling orgasms out before you were begging him to let you have a break. His face, beard, and chest were coated with your juices, but he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

“Daddy! Please, please, please! I can’t do it anymore!” you screamed, trying your best to get away from him.

“Shut the fuck up whore and let me eat my pussy.” he huffed, cursing as you squirted all over him again.

Chris leaned back up, you thought he might have mercy on you, but you were so wrong. He flipped you back on your stomach, and plunged his length in. You bit at the pillow, soaking it with your tears as he fucked you into oblivion. He reached for the back of your neck, getting right in your ear.

“Look at you, soaked in your own fuckin’ cum like the little slut you are for me.” Chris snarled, snapping his hips faster and faster.

“Yes Daddy, only for you.” you panted, reaching behind you holding the back of his neck.

“My good girl,” he hummed, turning your head so he could smash his mouth to yours in a sloppy, lust filled kiss.

“Cum in me Daddy, please.” you whimpered, so close to the sweet release.

“I’ll fill you up baby, don’t worry.” he grinned.

Your orgasm fluttered in your belly, pulsing through your body as you screamed his name. Chris kept his pace until he came deep inside you, both of you covered in sweat and cum. Chris stayed there for a minute, cooing in your ear how proud he was of you. However, your heart stopped when you picked up something else he said.

“I love you so much pretty,” he purred, kissing your cheek gently.

He smirked at your reaction, feeling your pussy clench at his admission. He carefully rolled you over, kissing all over your face.

“I love you Chris,” you whispered, smiling as he kissed your lips.

“You…are the best thing that’s ever happened to me…my pretty girl.” he whispered back.

“You’re everything I could ever dream for Chrisy, my soulmate.” you admitted, wiping the tear that shed from his eye.

“I want this forever,” he said, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“I do too, don’t ever let me go.” you sighed, staring deep into his eyes.

“Never,” he chuckled, leaning back down to kiss you again.

[bonniebird]

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader / Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader / Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Requested by @clockworkballerina

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Prologue 1

Chapter one: The one with one bedroom and two roommates.

Steve wasn’t sure how many times he needed to repeat himself. Robin had found him filling out a rental form that Billy Hargrove had dropped off. He’d stayed for fifteen minutes and given a long speech about needing someone to move in urgently and explained that he had no one else, other than Tommy Haegen and that he’d pitch himself into the quarry before he’d agree to that.

“Why is this such a big deal?” Steve grumbled. Robin had spent the last hour trying to convince him that he shouldn’t take the offer. He had been looking for somewhere to stay and with two roommates the rent would be lower than he’d been able to find around. The polaroid Billy had pulled out of his wallet. It was of him and some friends in front of a nice green house that had convinced him. It looked homey and according to Billy, the little roommate was nice, although she looked rather mean in the morning. It sounded better than sharing a trailer with some old guy who had advertised in the paper. He and Dustin had gone to look at it and quickly left when things got weird. 

“Billy Hargrove?” Robin repeated. Steve sighed and glanced at her. He was trying to stack VHS tapes into a new display shelf and ever since he’d casually let slip his plans, Robin had been trying to discourage him.

“I need a place. He has a spare room. He has another roommate too. He said they’d give me a letter of recommendation for him.” Steve muttered. He’d been half joking, he didn’t exactly expect Billy to honour that. 

“That’s insane. Didn’t he beat you up?” Robin asked. Steve frowned and winced then shrugged.

“We’ve come to blows.” Steve muttered and glanced at Robin who was shaking her head. “Besides he’s a lot different than he was back then. It’s been years and I’ve seen him around. He even apologised. I think. He expressed regret. It was bizarre.” 

“What if this other roommate is weird?” Robin asked.

“You’re throwing that weird word around like we haven’t fought interdimensional monsters and Russian scientists together. This is literally the least dangerous thing I have done in six months.” Steve said as he finished staking VHS tapes on the shelf and moved his cart over to put back several returns. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. You know. Compared to everything we’ve been through it’s nice and less weird.”

***************************

“Are you sure you’re looking at my ass?” Billy asked. You’d been thumbing through the local phone book and glanced up at Billy who had paced back and forth in front of you. “You don’t sound like you’ve seen it in these new jeans.”

“I’m busy. Why do you want me to look?” You asked as your finger trailed down one page and you glanced up. Billy had lifted his jacket up and was posing. You realised rather quickly he had caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror down the hall. 

“Just wanted a second opinion on how great I look before I head out.” He muttered. The phone rang and you jumped up to get it but Billy was there first. “Hello? Munson, do I owe you money?” 

As Billy spoke you hurried over and tried to pull the phone out of his hands as he frowned down at you. “It’s for me!” You insisted.

“He said Garth said to call you here?” Billy passed on. He rolled his eyes when he finally let you pull the phone from his hand and you leaned against the wall nearby, stretching the curly cord so that Billy had to duck under it as he left.

“This is the real Eddie Munson?” You asked. He chuckled on the other end of the phone.

“The one and only. Gareth said you needed a roommate?” Eddie muttered. He was shuffling around a little and you were certain that he was shouting a little and must have set the phone down or maybe left it hanging as he did, whatever it was he was doing.

“Yes. By this Friday. The landlord is coming and he thinks there are three of us. He made us sign this thing that all three rooms would be rented out and if they’re not he had a clause that he can change stuff.” You explained.

“Shit. That sounds serious. Well. I could urm. Friday afternoon sounds ok?” He asked. His voice was suddenly louder in your ear and you heard him pick the phone up again. 

“You don’t want to look around first? What if we’re like… total freaks or something?” You asked in surprise. He chuckled and you heard the sound of a lighter flicking.

“Don’t you worry? I happen to be well versed in the ways of freaks.” Eddie assured you. 

“You are?” You said quietly.  

“Sure. So Friday?”

“Yes! Friday before five as the landlord is coming between half past and six.” You explained. Eddie promised he would be there and hung up. It occurred to you that you should have mentioned that it was Thursday but you hoped that he could make it in time. You called Gareth and thanked him before going into the spare room. There was still a little dirt and grime but after sweeping up, hoovering and mopping the floor it wasn’t too bad. The bed frame had been left behind and an old rickety wardrobe too. Billy wasn’t sure if the landlord had bought them or if the last roommate had left them when Billy threw them out. 

**********************

Billy was working all day Friday. He had left a note on the fridge that he would be at work all day, then a note on the toaster reminding you it was Friday and move-in day. No one showed up all morning. You hurried to the window and peaked out from behind the net curtains hoping to get a glimpse of your new roommate up close. Unfortunately for several hours, nothing was interesting.

One neighbour took their shopping in. The hot lady across the road that Billy was certain was having an affair with, because her husband wasn’t equally hot had three separate guests over for an hour each. You made a note on the note paper by the hallway phone so that you could remember to tell Billy later. 

At four in the afternoon, after you’d had a late lunch and taken a nap while watching TV, you heard a knock at the door. You smiled as you opened it but that slid off his face.

“You’re not the new roommate.” You said quickly. Steve Harrington was holding a neatly taped-up box and was looking down at you as if he was surprised that you answered the door.

“You’re not Billy.” He said in the same tone of voice.

“Oh! Thanks?” You said as you stared at him still in the doorway. “Why’re you here?” 

“For the room. This is the right house?” Steve was looking more and more confused. A van pulled up and Eddie Munson hopped out. He had a bulging black bin bag swinging from one hand as he made his way up the drive. 

“Eddie’s supposed to be moving in?” You said and pointed at him.

“Munson?”

“Harrington?” 

There was a long awkward pause and you were very tempted to shut the door on them and go back to finish your nap. “You can look at the room but you’re going to have to pick which one stays.” You said as you stepped aside. They followed you through the house and to the bedroom. Leaving them to look around you slumped on the sofa. You could hear them talking about the room and you hoped that Billy would come home soon and then you wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

“What's this room?” You heard Eddie ask. Getting up you went to see what room he was talking about. There was a small room at the end of the hall. If you walked from the front door right down the hallway you came to a stop with a large bathroom to the left. A little to the right and round a corner was your room and next to that was the spare room. On the opposite side, making the hallway cut into an L-shape was Billy’s room. There was a small room next to it, a box room that was smaller than all three bedrooms. Billy had been storing his workout equipment in the small room. 

“Woah. This is pretty big.” Eddie muttered as he opened the door and poked his head in.

“Is it?” You said doubtfully.

“Oh yeah. Could fit a bed, chest of drawers, maybe a little chair. If it’s going I could take this room and Harrington could have the bigger one. I don’t mind.” Eddie offered. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Are you sure? I mean. We’d have to hide you from the landlord and I guess me and Billy should have checked how many people we were inviting to move in.” You said quietly. 

“Maybe.” Steve muttered. 

“Well either way we don’t have much time. The landlord will be here soon.” You said hopefully.

“Let’s get you moved in then big boy.” Eddie said as he grabbed a box from Steve and slid it neatly across the wooden floor of the spare room. Billy arrived ten minutes before the Landlord. You’d managed to help Eddie and Steve move into the spare room and with Billy's helo quickly moved things around in the tiny room to hide Eddie who hurried to sit in his van when the landlord pulled round the corner in his loud old car that had a loose bumper which scraped horribly on the road.

He stayed long enough to inspect everything was in good order and try to find something wrong with the house. As he opened the door and turned back to give one more glance over you saw Eddie smoking something in his van. He’d been bopping his head along to some music and ducked down as soon as the landlord turned to leave.

“We did it!” You said cheerfully as Billy shut the door.

“Why would you invite my pot dealer to live with us when I’d already gotten Harrington?” Billy asked. You frowned at him and he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh. Billy you know he’d probably overcharging.” You said and smiled at him, patting his arm. “You can just buy pots for a dollar at the hardware store!” 

“That’s so true Hargrove. Just a dollar.” Steve muttered and chuckled as he headed to his room. Having checked the coast was clear you opened the door and waved Eddie in.

“You should just buy it from Rick out on Lover’s Lake.” You said as you headed to your room. Billy had been reading the notes you’d left on the side table in the hall and his head whipped round to you with a frown.

“How do you know about Rick?” He asked.

“I live in a tiny town with only two drug dealers. I’m bound to know one of them.” You pointed out as you shut your door leaving Billy smiling at you with amusement as he nodded his head like you’d made a fair point. 

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