#can’t we fix each other? why can’t we be nurturing like that and fill the voids for people who have them. and i know it’s rich coming from m

[pepprs]

i wish i’d kept pushing the point (<- vagueposting). im so tired i’m hitting a wall. but why is the answer to feeling bottomlessly lonely just to love myself and be loved by myself? isn’t that only more loneliness?

#purrs #i know being by myself is not aloneness. but like seriously are you actually serious that there is no one coming to save me? that I have to #walk around with this giant gaping wound forever and no one will be able yo close it? i need total nurturance and comfort badly and to have #any less than total is.. well i don’t want to say it’s as bad as having none at all because obviously it’s not true. but it’s still bad. it #makes it harder to ask for more when you already have some and have reached the limit of what you can ask for. i just feel bottomlessly #lonely. i know things will get better. but what i really need is a long hug and a good cry in someone’s arms. not isolating myself in a #cabin for a week (though i know i desperately need that too). like we’re human beings and we can do that for each other so why don’t we? why #can’t we fix each other? why can’t we be nurturing like that and fill the voids for people who have them. and i know it’s rich coming from m #me bc iam skittish like a horse around emotions and also that it’s pitifully expected from me bc i am reading too much into normal experien #nces most people have. but how am i supposed to just accept that i didn’t get the love i needed (even if im romanticizing m*therlove lmao) a #and then move on as if that’s fine? how can i just snap my fingers and be an autonomous adult when ive spent years accruing psychological #damage with the most limited kind of cushioning? when every second brings with it a potential jab to my River of Pain nerve? idk. #i was deeply violently depressed abt this stuff earlier this week but tonight im just quietly sad. i want the stability and certainty of #(unconditional) love. i want my whole future safe and warm and now or at least the ability to trust it will exist which is also called hope. #i don’t want to be alone and wretched anymore.

[nctsworld]

just let me adore you

✩ jaehyun x reader (ft. mark) | fluff | campfire au | 2.3k → summary: in which the sparks between you and jaehyun burn brighter than the fire in front of you.  → warnings: fluff, flirting, swearing, kissing, wingman!mark whoo let’s get it → rating: teen+

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Laughter atop of wooden logs and wisps of smoke from the recently made fire fly towards the darkening sky on the beach. On the topic of fires, you and your friends are now reminiscing about when Haechan almost set his house on fire on more than one occasion. 

Your face is stuffed in Mark’s shoulder, unable to control your fit of laughter. As you pull away to breathe, you see a familiar group of men walking closer. Your eyes widen in reaction to one in particular.    

“You didn’t tell me Jaehyun was coming,” you spew behind the gritted teeth of your smile, leaning into Mark while having your gaze still locked on the group approaching. 

“Whoops?” Mark shrugs nonchalantly. You punch the imp smile off of your best friend’s face. He mumbles an ow and rubs the tender spot.

“Could’ve at least given me a heads up, you little shit.” 

“Maybe tonight you two will finally—hey, guys!” 

His words are cut off as the group finally arrives at their destination, greeting everyone perched on the logs. 

You may as well have flung yourself into the flames when Jaehyun flashes you a smile and maybe it’s all in your head, but you swear his eyes are fixated on only you.

Jaehyun and you were in an... odd spot. 

You may have gone to the same university, but the campus was huge, and you only ever really saw each other during large mutual gatherings, like tonight, so it was hard to get to know each other when you were often encircled with your particular clique. 

You two were mutuals on Facebook, but there wasn’t any concrete reason for you two to message each other out of the blue. However, you’d be lying if you said you never opened up the chat, stared at the blank conversation, and spent more time than you’d admit in thinking of a message to muster up. 

Yet, during only the handful of times you’ve been around Jaehyun, you liked being around him. He was sweet, like how he gave you pointers during the get-together at the bowling alley, and Mark has only said good things about him, giving him the seal of a best friend's approval.

Sure, it was a little awkward at times. Small talk was the norm, but neither of you could deny that there was something itching under the surface between you two. Maybe some nurture and care was all that was needed to break the chemistry free.

Or maybe all that was needed was tonight.

Because the logs near you are already occupied, Jaehyun and the latecomers sit across from you. Jaehyun’s in your direct line of sight with only the fire coming between the two of you.

The night falls as the blaze burns stronger and higher, becoming the only illuminating presence on the beach. Although conversations are all about, everyone’s attention is on it. Flames dance, entangling with each other in freedom. Orange and yellow hues reflect off of every face surrounding the warmth. It’s uncommon to see unconstrained flares like this often, so the rarity adds to the addictive pull of them. 

Everyone’s attention is on the fire, save for two people. 

You prefer listening to others speak and don’t really say much unless elicited, so you spend a lot of your time appreciating the beauty of the things surrounding you—at the rolling ocean waves, up at the stars, or across the wavy haze at the figure before you.

And when you aren’t looking at Jaehyun, you’re unaware of how he’s appreciating the beauty in front of him too. 

Back and forth, neither of you expect to lock eyes, but when it inevitably does, neither of you break away. On the contrary, Jaehyun offers a side smile, which showcases his dimple, and a modest wave. 

Returning his gesture with a giggle and a weak wave back, you then pretend to listen to neighbouring dialogue for a moment. 

Five seconds later, you can’t help it and steal a glimpse of him once more. 

You’re surprised to find him beaming back. 

Even though Mark’s preoccupied with telling the recent story of him winning another watermelon eating contest, he sees you smiling in his peripheral vision. His mouth still runs off, but he turns his head and sees that Jaehyun's the reason behind your smile. Although the eye flirting makes him mentally gag, he fully supports your pursuit if it makes you happy. 

Catching on, your best friend stands up to “stretch his legs” and moves closer to the ones he’s talking to, continuing the anecdote while standing. Not even a minute passes, and it doesn’t take much for Jaehyun to make a break for the empty spot next to you. 

Jaehyun doesn’t sit as close to you like Mark did, respecting your space, but is close enough to have you nervously plucking the fabric of your jeans. 

It starts off with the normal small talk, asking how classes have been and what you’ve been up to lately. Immediately after, silence takes over. 

Now that he’s in close proximity, looking at him feels like a sin. Nevertheless, you still commit the crime, stealing little glances at him throughout the bustling chatter and crisp crackling. 

Feeling overwhelmed by the silence, you grasp onto more small talk, which unfortunately soon reduces to you just rambling. Throughout it all, Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod and listens intently, leaning closer to you with his forearms on his thighs to capture everything that you’re saying. 

When you take a breather, he finally speaks up.  

“Although I love to hear you talk,” his voice is low and gentle, sending a small shiver down your spine. “And by all means, you can keep talking, but don’t feel pressured to fill the silence.” 

He pauses for a beat, and you peer over to view him lowering his head. 

He’s rubbing one thumb over his other, and the friction only makes his palms sweat more. Tingles reach Jaehyun’s ears, and he ponders if you notice it under the dim glow. 

“You don’t have to say anything at all; I always like just being around you, even if we aren’t talking.” 

The cool air blows, calming you along with his words. A shy grin spreads across your face. Feeling more at ease, you shift towards him, closing the empty space between you on the log and letting your leg lean onto his. Jaehyun’s focus trails from your leg to your face, and he dives deeper into your perfection with another of his famous, sweet dimpled smiles. 

Despite Jaehyun’s reassurance, you two slowly start to converse with less tension. Through the night, you get to know each other bit by bit, unravelling each other’s life stories, yet simultaneously writing a new chapter, intertwining the lines of your lives together.  

Additionally, you begin to melt for Jaehyun’s jokes. This is a first, to hear him joking around like this, but you soon find yourself laughing into his shoulder like you did with Mark not long ago.

And Jaehyun adores how you click with his humour, but he adores your laugh even more. 

Someone remembers that they brought snacks in their bag, and fast enough, marshmallows are being passed around. Jaehyun, along with a few others, hunt along the beach and come back with stray sticks for the sweet treats. 

As you two roast marshmallows, you’re sitting in comfortable silence, exchanging glances every so often. Suddenly, he lays a hand on yours, pulling it back along with the stick.  

“Careful,” he warns softly into your ear. “You don’t want a burnt marshmallow.”

Your breathing hitches, thinking about the only other time Jaehyun touched you.

It was during Johnny’s birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant. You were in the midst of devouring your food when your hair got in the way (out of all the days you forgot a hair tie, it had to be today). Failed attempts transpired at moving it; you blew, you shook your head, you rubbed the loose strands against your upper arm sleeve...

“May I?” 

His delicate inquiry made you freeze. Jaehyun already finished his food and offered his clean hands to fix your dilemma. You were so dedicated to finishing your meal that you forgot that he was right next to you, probably thinking you were a hot mess.  

Regardless, you nodded. You gulped as he daintily tucked the strands of your hair behind your ears. His touch was so brief, so simple. He barely ghosted over your skin, and the moment fleeted as fast as the way your hair ran through his fingertips. 

So if his touch was so simple, why was your heart bursting at the seams? 

Your heart thumps against your chest just the same now as it did then. Maybe even more, since you turn to face him and he’s so close, you feel his warm breath against your face. Your gaze slowly wanders to his lips. Subconsciously, he licks them, and you catch him staring at yours too. Your mind’s drawing blanks, while your body takes control. Both of you draw your bodies nearer and nearer until someone hollers—

“Dude, your marshmallow’s burnt!” 

Both of you stop in your tracks and whip your heads towards the fire, realizing it’s Jaehyun’s marshmallow that the person is referring to. Hastily, he pulls it away, blows the flames off, and stares at the charred piece with a pout. 

“Well, I guess you like burnt marshmallows though, huh?” 

Jaehyun turns to you again, watching you chew your marshmallow with a smug expression. Shaking his head, he runs his tongue along his bottom teeth.

“Hey, for the record, I saved your marshmallow from being burnt.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure,” you hum, still chewing, then getting up. “I’ll go get us some more marshmallows. Maybe extra for you, in case you burn more.” 

He clutches his chest in jest at your quip and watches the way you saunter over to the bag, his eyes full of hearts, yet regret courses his veins over how the moment was ruined. 

It’s past 1 AM, and the combination of the summer air and ocean waves pack a bite that urges you to go home. You’re both standing near the fire, waving at others who are leaving, when you begin to say you your good-bye.

“I should also get going.” Your hands are in your pockets, feet kicking at the sand. 

“Is Mark your ride home?” You nod in reply and open your mouth, ready to tell him how nice the night went with him. 

“Can I…” he abruptly cuts in before inhaling sharply. “I was wondering if you’d let me drive you home?” 

Your jaw drops at the suggestion, causing his expression to change instantly. “Unless you’d prefer Mark to, I totally understand.” 

Obviously, you accept without hesitance, and run off to Mark to inform him of the change of plans. After hugging him and saying your good-byes, Mark whispers, “Don’t stay out too late.” Then, he gives you a wink before you run to your driver for the night, walking side by side with him back to his car. 

Because it’s late and you’re both a little tired, the ride home is quiet, albeit for Jaehyun’s music playing in the background and when you begin to speak up to give directions on how to get to your place. Rolling up in front of your home, he turns the ignition off, but leaves the music still on. 

“I had a great time with you tonight,” he says with a hand still on the steering wheel. 

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you nod, “Me too.” 

Anticipation lingers in the air for a while prior to Jaehyun cutting it with a question you’ve been dying to hear. 

“Are you free next weekend?” 

You press your lips together, trying to hide a smile back. 

“Only if you are.” 

He laughs with a shake of his head, amused at your playfulness. He can definitely get used to this. 

“I’ll message you when I get home and we can work out the details soon.” 

“Sounds good,” you sway a bit in your seat whilst holding in your excitement. “Well, good night, Jaehyun.” 

Your fingers are on the door handle, but you aren’t quite curling them around it.

“Good night,” he says your name in a hush and you look back at him. The two of you match eye contact and get lost in the gleam of each other’s starry eyes. 

You’re unsure who made the first move, but it doesn’t matter because his kiss scorches you, melting you into putty. As you think you’re about to fall apart between blissful sighs, Jaehyun catches you with each caress, holding you together by your cheeks and the nape of your neck.    

Breaking away for air, you lay your forehead against his, panting, “Wow.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I burned my marshmallow.” 

No coherent thoughts are running through your mind, except your yearning for the man in front of you. All you want is him and his touch on your skin again, so you agree with his sentiment by diving in again without warning. 

It takes much strength for you to finally depart from each other’s embrace for the night, but when you do, Jaehyun plants a kiss on the back of your hand and wishes you sweet dreams. 

Exhausted and in disbelief over tonight’s events, you quickly change out of your clothes and tuck yourself into bed. Unfortunately, sleep is near impossible because your mind replays everything over and over.

Suddenly, your phone lights up, notifying you of a new message. 

Little did you know you’d stay up messaging the man on the other end until the sun rose. 

Next weekend really couldn’t come fast enough.

#jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct scenarios #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x reader #nctcreations #myfanfics #mywritings

[henry-and-the-seven-lords]

How He Loves - Protectively

Luke x MC | Song fic

How He Loves Series | Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Inspiration ~ House of Gold by Twenty One Pilots

Description: Luke has to watch MC suffer at the hands of demons for months. He has finally had enough and vows to protect them at any cost.

Warnings: Spoilers for Lessons 14 - 20, angst

Luke sat down the tea set while MC began talking on the couch in the living room of Purgatory Hall. MC and Luke are known to have weekly dessert parties, yet they always end with MC talking about all the things the Brothers have put them through this week. Luke always listens to them intently. Yet today determination and anger filled his eyes as they spoke.

"MC. I promise to protect you. Those demons are so mean to you and I don't want them threatening you anymore!" MC chuckled at the small angel's enthusiasm.

"I'll be fine, Luke. Besides I'm an adult. I can take care of myself. There is no need for you to worry about me." Even though they sounded confident, Luke was not convinced by their words.

Weeks passed and in all that time, MC's words seemed to ring true. They had been threatened a few more times, but there was never anything serious that came out of it. That was until one of the Brothers finally snapped.

"Luke, we need to go. Come with me." Simeon grabbed Luke by his collar and was dragging him out of Purgatory Hall with Solomon following close behind.

"What's going on? I was in the middle of making a cake!" Simeon let's go of Luke's collar and reached for his hand before picking up the pace.

"The cake can wait. I just got a call. One of the demon Brothers has hurt MC. Lucifer called on us to see if we can help heal them."

Luke's blood went cold. He always knew this day would come, so why is he so upset that it finally happened and that he was right.

The trio ran through Devildom and frantically burst through the front door of the House of Lamentations, only to see MC standing without a scratch. Simeon and Solomon still rush over and begin to check the human while Luke collapses to his knees.

In the distance, Luke can hear them calmly reassuring everyone, "I'm fine. Seriously. Everything is fine."

Their voice resonates in Luke's ears.

"They're fine..." He stare in disbelief at one of the few people who has so accepting and nurturing to the young angel, "Thank Father, they're fine..."

His breaths are labored and his chest aches as it never has before. His hands clutch at his robes wishing for the pain to go away. In that moment, he decides he never wants to feel this way again.

"I promise MC. I will repay the kindness you give me by protecting you with my life." His words are whispered more to himself as the room swirls with crying and talking.

Even after the traumatizing events, MC decided to stay with the demon Brothers making Luke's heart ache at the thought that MC wants to stay with Belphegor. The demon that had already killed them once.

He is distraught not able to be there on a moments notice, but at least MC always comes by and tells him how they are doing.

"It really seems like Belphie has gotten over the whole 'hating humans' thing. Which is good! We have been hanging out a lot more." MC says as they grab the piece of cake that Luke hands them.

Luke feels hesitant to ask about MC's relationship as he doesn't want to seem rude, but his curiosity gets the best of him.

"So you two have become friends. Even though he tried to kill you?"

MC takes a bite of the cake, chewing and swallowing before answering, "He said he was sorry, so it's behind us," Luke takes a bite of his cake sullenly. He doesn't know how this human has made it this far, "Actually we just made a pact so we are pact mates!"

MC shows Luke the symbol on their neck happily as he spits out his cake.

"You what!?" Luke's face is filled with shock as MC begins to ramble.

"Yeah! He said he would make a pact with me to say he was sorry, so I thought, 'why not?' You know? Now at least I can stop him if he tries to attack me."

Luke rubs his hands on his face as a flood of emotions washes over him. These demons seem to have a stronger hold on this human than he thought. Why do they keep giving these monsters so much power over them? He can protect them just as easily and it won't cost them their soul.

He looks up to see them smiling at him. His heart clenches. MC reminds Luke of Micheal. So headstrong and brilliant, yet so kind and nurturing to him. He wants them to stay safe so he can see them again in the Celestial Realm, but he doesn't know how he can do it. Immediately Micheal comes to mind. He knows how to fix everything else. Maybe he could fix this.

A few months pass and the exchange program ends. Luke and Simeon prepare to go back to the Celestial Realm, while Solomon and MC prepare to go back to the Human Realm. The four of them stand in the Castle gardens before each other. The portals sit in front of them as Luke feels his stomach begin to sink and his body begin to shake.

MC notices the young angel shaking as tears well in his eyes and they move to his side immediately, "Luke, there is no need for you to be so upset. We'll see each other again. I'm sure of it." As MC finishes their words, Luke looks into their eyes and he feels a flood of tears trail down his cheeks. He runs into their arms, wrapping them in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you MC. Please don't forget about me." Luke's sobs rake his body making him shake and even bringing the other exchange students to tears. MC leans into his shoulder and gently whispers, "I could never forget you," As their own tears begin to fall. Only the sounds of sobs are heard as Luke and MC embrace.

Luke's tears slow down after a few minutes and he finally releases MC. They smile at him which calms his nerves.

"Are you ready to go now Luke?" Simeon's voice is soft as he talks to the small angel.

Luke gently nods his head before walking over to Simeon. The sinking feeling in his stomach is still there as he gives MC one last smile before walking through the portal.

Once in the Celestial Realm, Luke immediately calls for a private meeting with Micheal. Within minutes Micheal stands before the young angel staring blankly while Luke begins to tell him everything about MC.

Hours of explaining pass before Luke finally pleads, "Please. I want to save them from all those demons, but I don't know how. I see them as I see you or Simeon and I would do anything to keep them safe." Tears rush out of Luke's eyes as he frantically speaks to his superior.

"Well I know of a way to help," At Micheal's words a flicker of hope passes across Luke's face and his tears slow, "but it doesn't come without a price. Are you sure your willing to do anything for this human?" Micheal eyes follow Luke's figure as he speaks.

Luke runs up to the archangel and grabs his hands, "Yes! They have been so kind to me and I can't stand them being treated so terribly by those monsters. What would it take, Micheal?" Luke's voice cracks as he stares with wide hopeful eyes at Micheal.

The angel looks down at Luke, sucking in a deep breath before saying, "Your wings."

A/N: Thank you to @bunna-does-stuff and @felix-the-lemon-king for proof reading. It really meant a lot to me that both of you helped and I think it made this fic 10x better.

Tag List:

@bunna-does-stuff @obeythebutler @ashxrsbeloveds

#obeyme #obey me #obey me imagines #imagine #obey me angst #angst #song fic #how he loves #how he loves series #obey me luke #luke #shall we date #shall we date luke #luke obey me #obey me luke angst #TW #spoilers #happy birthday luke #luke's birthday

[passable-talent]

listen,, im just in the mood for stih!reader. not followed-anakin-to-the-dark reader,,, just straight-up sith, subscribed to the sith, bloodlustful, power-hungry reader x anakin. whether they were a sith before him or a knight pulled to the dark at the same time but separate from him is up to you, but i just want some sexy evil reader <3

two things. one- in planning this one i came up with possibly my most interesting canon ret-con ever. 

two- sorry about the lack of this in the past, with all of my darkfics i just always end up trying to make the reader redeemable or in some ways well-meaning so that it doesnt alienate my,,, readers,,, but as you wish!

that said, i havent gotten to really indulge my absolutely sadistic side in a while and it was uhhhh fun

There was a prophecy to the Jedi, long ago, that one young Jedi would bring balance to the Force. 

And to the Sith was a prophecy that there would be a Dyad in the Force, one whose power would give rise to the power of the Sith.

Sheev Palpatine, tasked with finding an apprentice more powerful than he, who could possibly be within the Dyad, went through many apprentices in very quick succession, each destroyed by the Jedi before they could gain true power. There was only one apprentice who escaped the Jedi unscathed- a young former scrapper from a planet so unexceptional it didn’t even have a name. 

You had struggled from the moment you could walk. You had built yourself up, with no help, no guidance. From a difficult child to a violent teenager, you fashioned yourself weapons, taught yourself to fight. When others tried to lay claim to what you owned, you cut them down. 

So naturally, when he discovered you, Darth Sidious gave you a lightsaber. 

With your skill in mundane weapons came an adaptability into the divine, and you were quickly nearly as skilled with a light saber as his last three apprentices, combined. He believed that your innate skill and exorbitant midi-chlorian count meant that you must be one half of the prophesized Dyad, and with the formation of a Force bond, he could do what his master had not, and become the other half. He just needed to build your power. 

Each time he praised you, the hole in your soul grew larger, wanting more, needing it. You had come from nothing- so now, you wanted everything. You wanted to be the most skilled. You wanted to be the most powerful. You wanted to be the strongest and the fastest and the best.

So imagine your anger when you came across a little Jedi padawan who you could not defeat. 

Anakin Skywalker was the golden boy of the Jedi, and it had gone to his head. He was nineteen, and already more skilled than his master, and most of the masters on the council. Of course he would try to kill a Sith apprentice, when one crossed his path.

Imagine, two young prodigies, on opposite sides of a millennia-long war, each convinced that nothing could stand in their way. Imagine no one winning the battle, and both going home unscathed.

Imagine how it would drive them mad. 

Darth Sidious could not be seen without risking his discovery, so you often did what he needed. You wouldn’t complain- each successful mission would ease your hunger for victory and power, if only for a moment. You were cunning, and only unleashed your brutality when it was necessary, but Anakin- Anakin had the key to the cage that held your rage, and he opened it every time you saw him. 

His master, the other Jedi, those you would dispose of easily, not caring enough to kill them, just doing enough to get them out of your way, so that you could face him. Every time you failed to kill him, you got angrier, until you felt nothing but rage when you saw him. How dare he challenge your supremacy, your skill. How dare he live and breathe, proof that you weren’t unbeatable. 

In the dark side of the Force, with this conflict came uncertainty- no matter how Palpatine promised that his blood-soaked and rage-filled apprentice was the most skilled in the galaxy, he began to doubt. He began to wonder if Anakin was truly the apprentice he’d been seeking. 

In the light side of the Force, Master Yoda began to understand what Anakin’s prophecy had truly meant- Anakin was meant to be the light’s balance to the dark that you carried in your heart. 

Against the numbers of the Jedi, you were at a disadvantage, but you weren’t concerned with odds, not when you were the most talented Sith that had ever lived. All you felt that you lacked was the wisdom of the Sith who had come before you, and so you often meditated, trying to reach them. Darth Plagueis in particular guided your mind many a night. 

But something was off about your meditation, this day. You couldn’t reach your grandmaster, and a sick, disjointed sensation rolled in waves through your skin. Breaking your concentration, you opened your eyes.

And seated in front of you was Anakin Skywalker. 

“You-” you snarled, immediately calling your saber to your hand. He held his hand up, though, and something about the motion made you pause. 

“I’m not really here,” he said, then looked around. “Can you see where I am? I can’t see where you are.” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious and still angry, but now curious. You slid from your meditative sit and onto your knees, slinking toward him on your hands before reaching out to touch his shoulder. 

“You mean you didn’t reach out to me?” You asked, tilting your head, expression still distrustful.

“No, I thought you called to me.” You locked your eyes with his, reaching forward with the Force to feel him, his presence. He seemed to feel you doing so, but did not resist, and in fact did the same. Reaching deep into his heart, you found a surprising spot of cold- and latched onto it, holding it, unlocking its secrets. This, you could use.

“You don’t trust the Jedi,” you said, a smirk curling on your lips. His eyes widened briefly, which made you realize just how correct you were. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he was so skilled- if it could be used in service of the dark. 

“The Jedi stifle me,” he conceded, and from your connection you’d forged into his soul you felt a spark of fire, that so-familiar rage. This time, the emotion wasn’t yours, but his. 

“The Sith will not,” you promised, and sat back down, much closer to him now. 

“The Sith must be destroyed,” he snarled, and you were in your element now, you were finally in control. After all this time, you were winning a victory against Anakin Skywalker.

“Why? We seek to bring order. I seek my fullest potential. Isn’t that what you’re doing? What the Jedi aren’t letting you do?”

“Shut up,” he groaned, looking away, and so you leaned closer, lifting your chin, beginning to smile. 

“We’ve fought in the past, Anakin,” you breathed, “But I promise you this- I would help you the way no Jedi would think to.” 

You felt it when his entire presence in the Force sparked, and then disappeared. It seemed that he’d grown too distracted to keep your connection. 

Speaking of that- how could you have had such a connection? 

Sure, you’d felt his presence in the Force before, but only when you fought, when your souls clashed as brightly as your sabers. This was new, very new, and in all your teachings you had heard of nothing like it. 

Nothing- nothing but a Dyad. The Dyad. 

Sidious was right, in everything he had ever told you- you were of the Dyad, you were the Sith meant to experience power like none before you had, you were the one the prophecies had spoken of. But Palpatine wasn’t the other half, the way that the Rule of Two would’ve expected it- the other half of the Dyad was instead a young Jedi.

Master Yoda felt a disturbance in the Force as you realized it- as your dark hunger pulsed out of your body, satisfaction with knowing that it was all true making you feel powerful. The destiny you had been promised, you now knew for certain, was rightfully yours. 

You only had two problems, both easy to fix. The first- your Dyad partner needed to join the Sith. Only then would you be fully unstoppable, only then would no one be able to stand in your way. 

And the Second? Anakin becoming a Sith would violate the Rule of Two. Meaning that there would be three Sith where there was only room for two.

So you needed to be rid of Sidious. Such was a plan for another day. 

The Clone Wars were a Sith’s playground- Sidious’ extraneous apprentices, Dooku and Ventress, took care of most of the messy battles. Fighting clones, negotiating with the Trade Federation, such things were beneath you. Your specialty, your joy, was in the destruction of the Jedi. Every single Jedi death in the Clone Wars was at your hand. 

And though you clashed with Anakin, the roles had been reversed- now twenty-two and sure of your destiny, you fought not to kill Anakin, but to show him the power of the dark, the power you wielded. He fought the way you had as a teenager, full of rage and murderous intent. Tortured as his missions were by you, he could not escape you in meditation, nor in sleep. You walked his dreams, making him wake with not anger but want, something that he hid from everyone, even his master. In his meditation you would appear before him, promising things that he only believed because they left your mouth. 

“Anakin Skywalker is at his most powerful when he’s at my side.”

No Jedi sensed the rising darkness in Anakin Skywalker, just as you expected. Jedi are incapable of seeing past what they believe. They know that the Sith have returned, and still are blind to the power of the Dark!

The Sith, though... the Sith sensed his power. You sensed it, of course, reaching into his soul any time you could, grooming and nurturing the darkness he’d begun to share. And Sidious felt it, too. 

So he took an interest in Anakin Skywalker. 

He grew closer to Anakin through their mutual friendship with Senator Amidala. Palpatine promised Anakin balance, salvation from the worries he carried with him. 

And he began to pull away from you, which certainly did not sit well. You were the most powerful Sith in generations, more powerful than even him, and he dared think you could be replaced? Not only he thought you could be replaced, but he dared set up such a replacement as though you wouldn’t notice?

No. 

You were stronger than that. Smarter. There was three where there should be two, and if your counterpart in the Force was meant to bring balance, weren’t you meant to, as well?

So you took advantage of the age and weakness of Palpatine’s body. You poisoned him, slowly, deteriorating him, so that all that kept him alive was the Force, and he had no strength of his own. 

And then you told him everything. 

“An apprentice, when they are no longer fit for the teachings of the Sith, is replaced,” you said, your scarlet saber humming, its life and energy filling your body, like it had a thousand times. “Which is why you have grown interested in Anakin Skywalker. I have learned from you, my master, I see through your deception. You wish him to take my place.” 

Your darkness invaded your smile, an emptiness invading your stomach that the deaths of dozens of Jedi had yet to fill.

“He will,” you promised, “He will be one of the most amazing Sith there has ever been. And he will fulfill the prophecy of the Dyad, just as you suspect.” 

Sidious didn’t even have the time to ask how you knew before you buried three feet of plasma in his body. 

You didn’t remove the saber, just let it rise and fall with the laboured breathing of an old man. 

“Without your help, Sidious,” you snarled, “I have pulled Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side. I have found the Dyad, the one spoken of in prophecy- I have felt it pull he and I together. And without your help, I will purge the Jedi from the galaxy.” You ripped the saber from his body, separating his chest from his stomach.

As Palpatine breathed his last breath, you had an unexpected visitor- a few of them, actually. Masters Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Mace Windu each entered Palpatine’s office, sabers ignited and prepared for a duel with a Sith Master. 

But they didn’t expect it to be the one that now stood before them. 

Master Mace Windu knew of you- knew of the Sith apprentice who had a hunger for power so strong that it was meant to outgrow their master. He knew that you had killed countless Jedi, and would kill countless more, if given the chance. So he wasted no time in changing his intentions for the evening. 

“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic,” Windu said, igniting his saber, “You’re under arrest.” Your lightsaber still humming with the blood it had taken, you turned to him over your shoulder, canine tooth glinting from underneath a disturbing smile. 

“And what are the charges?” you asked, calm as though you could predict the exact outcome of the match. “I’ve just killed your Sith Lord. Surely that must count for something.” 

You focused the Force within you, sending it to the one person who you needed the most- and you showed him the way that four Jedi looked at you, threatened you.

“The Senate will decide your fate,” Windu threatened, and you tilted your head. 

“The Senate just lost their chancellor,” you said with a small laugh, “I don’t believe they’ll be deciding anything for a while.” 

It was all too easy to destroy them. Fisto, Kolar, Tiin, they were no challenge. Neither was Windu, but you needed him to believe he was gaining the upper hand- for Anakin was back on Coruscant, hurrying to your location, seeing through your eyes the way that Windu meant to murder you. 

Feigning weakness, you opened your chest, which Windu rewarded with a strong kick, and you fell to your back, little groans and whimpers of fear leaving you as you scrambled backwards, and you could feel it, you could feel the way Anakin was running toward you, feel his desperation to protect you, even if he tried to disguise it with democracy. 

“You are under arrest,” Windu hissed, his saber pointed to your nose. 

And then, there- the man whose presence you had once loathed, and now craved. Anakin was here, with those lovely blue eyes, that curly hair, that body that deserved to rule the galaxy by your side. 

“Anakin,” you said, chest rising and falling in panicked breaths, “Anakin, I killed Palpatine, I- I’m trying to help, I’m trying to help you!”

“You killed him to take his place,” Windu said, and your eyes narrowed. “But you have lost.” You reached out as though to call your saber back to you, but didn’t actually use the Force- which made it seem as though Windu overpowered you when he grabbed your throat and lifted you from the floor. Letting your body hang limp, you clawed at your throat, breathing ragged, and this- this was your chance. 

You turned your gaze to him.

“Anakin,” you breathed, desperation, love, in your eyes. “Anakin, please...” He’d heard you say that word before, sounding just the same, in dreams of soft touches and tangled sheets. He’d seen the way you looked at him, when he met you on the battlegrounds, and you seemed to enjoy his skill. All too familiar was the curve of your neck, the flex of your muscles, as you fought against a grip on your throat.

“Please, Anakin,” you whispered, “I love you.” 

“They are a traitor, Anakin!” Windu snarled, arm extended toward you. “Don’t listen!” You weren’t choking, not quite, but blood was being cut off, and you were starting to get woozy. You pushed the feeling through your bond to Anakin, proving to him how desperate the situation was becoming. 

“Please,” you said, mouth gaping for a moment as you struggled to breathe, eyes briefly rolling back in your head. “Don’t let him kill me.” Windu dropped you, and you crashed to the floor, coughing and sputtering, letting them both believe your limbs were too tired to hold you up. 

“I am going to end this,” Windu said, conviction in his tone, “Once and for all.” 

“You can’t,” Anakin said, and dark satisfaction pulsed deep in your chest. With those two words, you knew how this day would end. “They must stand trial.” 

“They are a Sith Lord! They're too dangerous to be left alive!” Curled up on your side, you didn’t look dangerous- you looked pitiful, coughing to regain your breath, tears rolling down your face. 

“Please don’t kill me,” you sobbed, and in Anakin’s heart you felt resolve- you knew he wouldn’t let you die. 

“It’s not the Jedi way!” Anakin said, “They must live!” You raised your eyes to Windu’s, and saw no remorse in them.

“Please, no-” you whimpered.

“I need them!” Anakin shouted, but Windu lifted his saber anyway. Anakin reacted in an instant, igniting his saber and slashing it through Windu’s arm, the distinctive purple saber now lost to the window and the streets of Coruscant below. 

You smiled.

In an instant you flipped onto your hands, swiping Windu’s legs out from under him, and he could do nothing to stop his fall. Anakin fell to his knees, shocked, and ashamed of what he’d done. 

“Anakin!” you said, rushing toward him, and finally, finally you could feel what you had in dreams, what you’d longed to- you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. “Anakin, you saved me.” He hugged you back, slowly, and there was nothing else to compare to this. 

You had been prophesized to be the Jedi and Sith who would bring balance and rule, and finally, after all this time, you were together. Not on the opposite sides of a battle, not in a connection, not in a dream, but in reality, in each other’s arms. 

Together, you were more powerful than any Jedi or any Sith had ever been. You could feel it already. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, pulling away far enough to brush back his hair, but his eyes were heavy with sorrow and regret. “Ani, love, look at me-” His gaze met yours, and nothing else in the universe had ever been so beautiful. 

“I love you,” you promised again, and pressed your lips to his. The Force itself seemed to rejoice in you finally meeting, and now, all that was left to do was to ensure he stayed by your side. 

“Finally, we’re on the same side,” you breathed, and you felt the way he bristled. 

“The Jedi won’t see it that way.”

“The Jedi don’t understand- and they’re traitors, anyway, plotting to destroy the Republic, all this time. We have to rebuild the Jedi Order. We can make things the way we want them to be.” Anakin seemed to consider, so you pulled yourself closer to him, holding him just the way you remembered, in all those dreams you’d shared. 

“We don’t have to run away anymore,” he said, and you cupped his face. 

“No,” you said, “We don’t have to hide.” 

“The Jedi turned against me,” Anakin said, his voice low, and you felt that darkness in his body grow. 

“I know, love,” you breathed, brushing back his hair. “But I’m here. I’m still here.” Anakin leaned forward, holding you close by your lower back and kissed you, and you felt it- you felt hunger in his body, you tasted it on his lips. He rocked forward, laying you down on your back, even as you kept your arms around his neck. 

And as you surrendered control, you almost had to laugh- he had no idea how much power you had over him. 

-🦌 Roe

part 2 | part 3

#anakin x sith reader #anakin skywalker x sith reader #reader insert #angst #imagines #anakin x reader insert #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #poor anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #sith!reader #star wars #Star Wars episode iii #star wars episode iii: revenge of the sith #star wars prequels #episode iii #fics

[heavenunderthemoon]

A fic request for Emily and daughter!! Where you are dating a guy and have not told her and she finds out when she comes to you and your boyfriend making out on the couch

“My mom would kill me if she found out I had a boy over. And then she’d resuscitate me, and then kill me again.” You said with a sigh, scrolling through the movie options on the flatscreen.

Harry gave a low chuckle, throwing another piece of popcorn in his mouth.

Harry. You thought dreamily.

You had known him since you were about twelve, a rather annoying boy in your physical education class. You recalled the various times in which the two of you were captains for your respective teams in that class, the rivalries and the fights that ensued. How long had it taken for the two of you to realize that the hatred stemmed from tiny little crushes on each other? Looking at him now, his curly hair overflowing into his eyes- something you adored because it meant you had an excuse to touch it, moving it out of his eyes- you couldn’t imagine hating him.

The two of you had only begun dating three months ago, your mother still didn’t know. You had planned on telling her the minute it became official, really, you had, but she had gone away on a case that night and you didn’t want to tell her over the phone. So then you postponed for when she would be back, staying up late until her flight landed, making her dinner, telling her that way. But, when she had come back you found the case had been a really difficult one and the wariness on your mother’s face, the pure exhaustion, had your lips sealed.

And it went on. Everytime you meant to tell her was just bad timing - and you needed good timing, because your mother really didn’t like Harry. Alright, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know Harry, she had never event met him, but you knew she wouldn’t like the idea of him. Your mother wanted you to like nice boys, prim and proper boys, smart boys who had crystal clean records and good intentions and Harry was a little far from the mark.

Harry wasn’t a horrible person, you knew that. He was misunderstood, incredibly so. His past wasn’t very kind to him, and he acted out frequently because of it. He likes to read and write and paint (he was rather good at it but he really only painted for you just to see the smile on your face when he did). He got detentions and was caught stealing (clothes for his little sister, and they let him off with a warning). He rode a motorcycle he found in the dump and fixed up himself, and he was a little rough around the edges appearance wise. But damn, was he good to you. He was caring, like the kind of caring where he always walked you home from school, no matter what. He offered you rides on his motorcycle (even bought a pretty helmet that had plastic bunny ears on the top bc you liked bunnies and he thought you would like it), but you refused. If your mother found out you rode a motorcycle you were sure she’d have a heart attack right then and there. And he was kind. Everytime Emily was away he called you to make sure everything was okay, talking as you walked through the house and double checked all the locks, and sometimes even read to you over the phone until you fell asleep. He wrote you poems and slipped them in your textbooks when he held them on the way to class, and he gave you flowers when you least expected them -no occasion, just because.

He was a boy, a boy you loved, and that was enough to make Emily go a little crazy and you knew that so you kept him away. You kept him a secret. Your little secret love, a piece of you, hidden away and locked up tight.

And that was why he was here, at your house on a Thursday evening. Your mother was off on a case, she had only been gone two days and when Harry had called you, asking how you were (he had been home for the past three days, his sister sick with the flu), you told him how much you missed him. Next thing you knew he was showing up on your doorstep with all your favorite snacks and the gesture had you flinging yourself into him, squeezing him tightly. It hadn’t mattered to you that Emily might get mad because how would she even know? She had been gone for two days, which meant she probably wouldn’t be back for at least another one. You and Harry could have this night.

So, despite the uneasiness in your stomach, you let him in.

“She wouldn’t kill me first? Or is she saving the best for last?” He asked thoughtfully, eyes turning to you. Oh you loved when he looked at you like that, a look thrown your way, a look filled with such...trust. Devotion. Love.

You sighed wistfully. “Me first. She’d be beside herself at the very thought that I hid something from her. She hates lying.”

He snorted. “A little rich coming from an FBI agent. Isn’t her job centered around lying?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing a popcorn at him. He was right. Your mother lied as a profession, bluffing that she had more information than she really did, or even lying that she was dead as the two of you foed to Paris. That hadn’t been very fun. She lied all the time. But that was to protect people. You were just protecting yourself.

“I just feel bad. I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you. I just don’t want you to feel her wrath. She’s a lot..you know? She means well she’s just protective.”

Harry didn’t know. He didn’t really get that parents should be protective because he didn’t really have any. Just a dead beat dad that drank himself into a stupor every night and was typically found passed out on the couch. He didn’t get that parents were supposed to love and nurture, and the fact that you had that seemed foreign, but he tried to understand, for you. And you knew that.

He nodded with a frown. “She doesn’t have to protect you from me, though. I would never hurt you. If you ever asked me to go, to leave, all you’d have to do is say the word and I’m gone. But I love you and you love me, our relationship doesn’t concern her.” He wasn’t snippy, just speaking softly, as if not to scare you away because he knew how much you loved Emily and he didn’t want to scare you away by speaking about her badly.

You smiled softly, taking his hand in his. The remote remained abandoned on the table that you had set it upon and he removed the popcorn bowl from his lap, setting it on the table as well, giving you his full attention. “It doesn’t but it also does. She’s my mom, she’s...I don’t know, it’s weird. I shouldn’t need her approval. I don’t. But I want it. I want her to know you, and not just surface level background checks, I want her to know the Harry that I know.”

He scoffed with a smirk. “Oh, you think you know me?” And a twinkle in his eyes showed you a twinge of fear, a fear that maybe you did. That you knew him better than anyone he had ever known. And it was the twinkle that made you nod.

“I do.” You responded confidently, and there was only silence in the room for a small moment. A moment where Harry’s heart was racing, and he was sure it was loud enough for you to hear it, and a moment where you were searching his eyes for an acceptance. Acceptance that he wouldn’t get scared away just because you knew him, knew every part of him, because you knew that it was something he tended to do. He tended to back away when he felt exposed and you were praying that he knew he didn’t have to do that with you.

Finally, he nodded, lips pursing. “Alright. Well then we’ll tell her when she gets back.”

“We?” You asked skeptically, because the thought of him and Emily in the same room had been something you had been trying to avoid for so long.

And he nodded once more. “We. Together. I’ll wear a suit and you can wear that pretty little black dress and I’ll come for dinner. I’ll knock on the door- not ring the bell because that’s a little prentious-“ you giggled and he smiled at the sound. “And I’ll bring her flowers, compliment her home,”

“Compliment her home?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “Well I can’t very well tell her that I’ve been here now can I? Besides, it’s what they do in books. I figure it’s how I’ll make a good impression. And I’ll tell her how very much I adore her daughter.” He set his chin, a blazing look in his eyes, the kind that made you think he might be invincible. One that made you think he could do anything and damn would you follow him to the depths of the earth as long as he had that look.

With newfound confidence, you grinned. “Oh? And just what, pray tell, do you adore about me?” And there was a certain impish tone in your voice that had him smirking mischievously.

He leaned closer, burning his hand up to caress your cheek. “Hmm, well, I love your eyes,” He wiped underneath them, his warm hands making delicious contact with your face. “The way I can literally see into your mind with them. You’re awful at hiding your emotions and just one look into those beautiful little orbs, I know everything I need to know.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer. “What else?”

“I love your lips.” And his finger was tracing the contours of your own, claiming his territory. “How you’re never afraid to speak your mind, those words of passion, or humor, or hatred tumbling from your plump lips, ones that I very much like to kiss.” And he bent down and pecked you, lingering just a moment longer to nibble on your bottom lip.

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as you forced them back open. “Is that all?”

He had that god awful smirk on his face and you forced yourself to look away. “Everything about you, baby. Your wit, your determination, your compassion,” and with each word he was peppering your jaw with a kiss and finally you gave out, grabbing his face in yours and crashing your lips onto his. He was grinning into the kiss, savoring his victory but not for long. You wouldn’t let him win.

You flipped positions, pushing him slightly and straddling the boy. Your lips were ferocious against his, a mess of passion and intensity and his hand was going to your sides, sliding under your shirt and running upward. Everywhere he touched was set instantly on fire and you moaned into his lips.

And just as you were about to take it a step further, the door opened. You flew off the boy, landing onto your ass with a groan. Harry was springing upward, readjusting his hoodie and hair, though it was no use. Your hands had gone rampant through his curls and it would take an actual brush to fix it. Both of your lips were swollen from your previous activities, clothes a bit ruffled, and the look on Emily’s face made your heart stop.

She was looking at Harry, and then you, and then back to Harry with an unreadable expression on her face.

She was home. Home incredibly early, and her bag was discarded at her feet, dropped when she saw you and Harry.

No one was speaking, Harry was looking at you as for what to do, Emily was just staring and you...you were standing from your post on the floor, going to Harry’s side as if you protect him. “Mom, this is Harry-you’re home-“ You swallowed when her lips pursed. “He, um-we were- He’s my boyfriend.” And then a look you did recognize appeared on her face.

Fury.

“Harry, you can go home.”

Your mouth went dry. This was not how this was supposed to happen. Harry turned to you, eyes questioning if that was what y oh wanted, if you wanted him to leave and with a mournful smile you nodded, walking him to the door. He mouthed an “I love you” which you returned before shutting it.

“You had a boy over.”

“Mom-“

“A boyfriend, come to find. How long have you been seeing this boy?”

You winced. “Three months. But we were going to tell you, he was going to knock on the door-“ And you were beginning to ramble with panic as she cut you off.

“Three months? Three months of you sneaking around behind my back? And when I’m gone you do...that.” She was shaking her head in disbelief, hand going over her face.

“We weren’t sneaking I just...He came over tonight and that was an anomaly, we don’t do that-“

She scoffed. “And I’m supposed to believe you? You want me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth when you’ve been lying to me for months?” You stayed silent, swallowing. “Go to your room. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“Mom-“

“Go.”

You sighed, turning on your heel and walking off.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter!reader

[fallingoverharrypotter]

Last right off Diagon

Inspired by prompt Curiosity for @drarrymicrofic , and written for a laugh.

It's an ugly little hole in the wall, Draco thinks. Peeling paint, done the muggle way, and dirty windows that probably wouldn't let in the mere amounts of light that this area of Diagon is privy to. Especially with the amount of crap blocking Dracos view inside.

So he can't see the proprietor. He can't see whether theres anyone else inside. Shit. He wants to turn back, give up. Take the bag hanging at his side and toss it into the Thames right fucking now.

He's hyperventilating. He can't believe he's actually standing in front of this stupid store with a bag filled with. Curios. And he's actually hyperventilating.

"Um-"

And Draco jerks, hard, right into the window.

His nose stings, and he can feel the beginnings of blood dripping atop his cupid's bow and down his chin. He's not hyperventilating now: thank Merlin for small mercy's. He turns to direct his swearing at the person who startled a man in the middle of a panic attack, blood flooding down his face, and sees a wand directed right at his nose.

Draco, ex-convict, is unfortunately used to this reaction to his presence. He doesn't waste his precious sanity on worrying about it anymore, but at this point he's feeling a little fragile all in all. So when his panic attack picks right up from where it started, and his head starts to get a little woozy from the lack of oxygen and the continued expelling of blood from his nostrils, he doesn't blame himself much.

"Fuck- fuck, Sir I'm really sorry. Let me. Can I just fix- oh. Wait," and then there's a hand on Dracos shoulder, and the picture in front of his face clears a little now that theres an anchoring to his woozy drifting: he sees a young man, bright pink hair, yellow amber eyes, and looking scared to shit. Alarm bells ring momentarily, before the kid says: "... Mr. Malfoy?"

And of course that's the Black nose. Draco's nose. And this is Aunt Andromeda's ward - grandkid - the metamorph. And that's still 12 inches of Cherry directed right at his bleeding nose, and Draco has a split second out of body experience where he remembers that time he broke this kid's godfathers' nose when he was about the same age.

"I'm Teddy... Lupin. Um. Andromeda Tonks' grandson? Can I episky your nose? It looks pretty bad."

Draco must shrug in acceptance, because the next second the kid applies what seems like quite an expert episky charm right at the break, plugging the flow of blood. A modified scourgify collects all the blood from Dracos face and his clothes too, and now he looks just as he'd intended. Patrician and handsome, collected and unbothered. No blood. No panic attack in sight any longer, like it was siphoned away too.

Draco still hasnt said a word since he stopped muttering foul language at the sight of the wand. This 17 year old seems too quietly confident to be even the requisite amount of mad required for a Black. As Draco thought though, the nose is right, and the chin. It makes him... kind of fond for the kid he hasn't seen since he was 5. Especially when Teddy is looking up at him like hes worried beyond belief for a silent man in the middle of Diagon who's a bit too fragile for his own good.

"Ted?" Comes a call in a hauntingly familiar voice, then. Teddy turns towards it, the figure walking out of the door of the dirty old antiques shop, and Draco can't do anything but twitch a little when the bag on his shoulder looses whatever traction it kept, and goes clattering to the cobbles beneath his feet. The clang of burnished silver goblets, Lucius Malfoys old wizarding table clock, and whatever else Draco was able to scrounge up from the Manor to justify this trip to seeing Harry after 10 years away - after 10 years of running from the inevitable - that clang echoes like it's heralding Draco's imminent demise.

When Harry's eyes meet Dracos, all 3 meters of space and a 17 year old kid between them, Draco feels like hes 24 again. When Harry's eyes go wide with shock, that must be 20. When his eyes narrow, then that's 18 (post trial). And then when Harry pulls his wand and points it at Draco, well, that's years 11 all the way through to 17.

A levitation charm, and Dracos bag settles back on his shoulder. Teddy mumbles something about getting back to the till, and goes rushing back through the door his godfather is still kind of blocking. Harry has to walk forward - towards Draco - to let the kid around him, and then they're only 2 and a half meters away from each other.

Which shortens to 1 meter when Harry crosses the distance. "What you got there?"

Draco's a little stumped. Has been for far too long now, so he has to fake some courage. "Curios."

"Right," says Harry, eyebrows pushed under his fringe. "Ten years, inconsistent letters, and you turn up at my shop to bring me-" incredulousness "-curios?"

"You've named the shop Curiosity's Curios, Harry. You can't blame me for trying to adhere to tradition."

Harry scoffs. "Leave off. No smoke screens, please. From what I've heard you're out of Level 9 - don't bring it here."

Draco deflates. He has a moment to think about whether this is going to help matters or make them worse. But he does know that it'll make Harry laugh.

He drops the bag on purpose this time, clanging echoing once again. And then his knees follow, until hes folded up in front of Harry on the cobbles at the far end of Diagon Alley.

"Harry James Potter."

"Good god, Draco."

"I hereby apologize for that time when I stomped on your nose on the Train that one time and covered you with your stupid invisibility cloak, and then wished you dead when you still turned back up at dinner later that night."

"Come on, get up. Just because theres no one here now doesnt mean someone wont turn up and see you debasing yourself on the street."

"Dont interrupt, or I'll sonorous myself."

"Merlins sake, then hurry it up."

"Harry, honestly, you're an idiot if you think people are wandering all the way down here to buy dirty old antiques at lunch time on a Monday. We are well and truly alone."

"This is the weirdest grovelling I've ever heard."

"I've seen the error of my ways. Truly. Your godson all but pushed my head into your dirty glass windows and broke my nose. It's almost poetic, really."

And that got it, because Harry laughs. Loud and booming, echoing across the cobbles and the stone walls. "And you think he has no Black madness!"

"He doesn't," Draco counters, rising up on his knees. "What he does have is the strange Potter-nurtured ability to turn up when is most inconvenient!"

"Well," and Harry leans over so that his face is closer to Draco's. "Someone should have thought about the severe consequences of letting the last Black stew amongst the riffraff when he went off undercover for 10 years, shouldn't they have."

Draco sighs mournfully. "And I see you've protested my absence admirably by refusing to clean your shop windows for a decade. Truly, Harry, I admire your dedication to the cause."

"Oh!" Exclaims Harry, reaching out a hand to touch Draco's nose. "That's why theres this grime all over your face-"

"Oh god stop!" And Draco flicks his wrist with a quick scourgify of his own to get at- "Don't mess with me like that, Harry."

Draco is pouting and Harry is laughing again.

Draco gets up eventually, with Harry's hand in his own helping him. They walk into Harry's shop, and they settle down so that Draco can write a few letters of greeting to his loved ones. Hes sure that within the hour the stacks of cups and saucers and clocks and trinkets and curios that Harry has been collecting for years will be shuddering at the force of the howlers that'll just force their way through the wards Draco could put up, so he doesnt bother with them. Will let them come. His feet are resting in Harry's lap, and Harry has a firm grip around an ankle. Teddy is looking back at them from the till in confusion and boredom, annoyed that his sly questioning glances haven't brought forth any answers.

Harry and Draco are both 34 year old men who have been very content for the last 10 years to just accept whatever is happening. The last owl flies off announcing Draco's return to the surface, and then Harry is pushing off from his chair and announcing that if Draco really is going to be sticking around, he better make himself useful. Draco counters by saying that his nose has only just been broken, and he can feel the remnants of his panic attack in the depths of his bones. Harry laughs loudly, and Teddy seems to snort - without remorse - but all the same Draco hops up and makes three cups of tea. Makes himself useful.

#drarry #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #tone consistency? i dont know her #drarrymicrofic #kind of #prompt: curiosity #fic #definitely not 50 words #my fic

[funkymbtifiction]

If this question is too personal for you then please ignore it. I couldn’t resist asking it since I rarely find women like me :)

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic ENFP who loved love, but didn’t want to it for herself. Never been interested in it outside of romantic comedies and Taylor Swift songs. I’m in my late twenties, and would love your perspective on how an ENFP could lead a fulfilling life without a relationship. I’m at an age where everyone I know is either engaged or married. Everyone is extra busy and I feel I need to replace the relationship busyness with something else instead of leaving it empty.

Would love to hear about your experience if you’re open to share.

Sure. I’m an open book, for the most part. ;)

I’ve almost never (I won’t say never, since I have my weak moments watching great movies with an epic romance in them, heh) looked at anyone else in a romantic relationship and thought, “I wish I had that.” It’s great for them, and I love a good romance in fiction, but it I don’t feel incomplete without one. But social pressures are often intense -- people get into relationships and have kids. That’s how the world works, and how it has worked since the beginning of time -- or we would not be here. So, the natural assumption of society is that people OUGHT to be in relationships or have kids. If you have no interest in that kind of thing, you are “weird.” You get people wondering if you are a closet gay person. Or if there is something wrong with you.

Which makes me wonder, why does everyone care so much about other people’s sex lives (or lack thereof)? Why can’t we as a society just accept everyone for who they are, including people who have no interest in romantic relationships? Firstly, my love life or lack of it is no one else’s business. (Just like how rude it is to ask a married couple how soon they are going to “start a family.” Like, that’s not your business either, and they are under no obligation to bring kids into this world. :P But I digress.)

For me, personally, I do go through times when I wonder, “Is this it? Is this all there is? Would I feel more fulfilled if I had a ‘normal’ life and a relationship?” And yet, ultimately, my own happiness is reliant on... me. And how I feel about myself, not the status of whether I’m “involved” with someone else or not. At this point in my life (I have about a decade on you of single-hood), I would look at a relationship as a privilege rather than a necessity. I’m not interested, but that is not to say that an amazing person could come along and change my mind, if I saw how they would be an asset in every way, rather than a liability.

I agree, however, that you need to find something meaningful to fill your time with, since you have so much of it to spare. That’s one of the perks and downfalls of being single -- you are commander of your own fate, you make up all the rules, and you don’t have a thousand familial obligations weighing on you. You don’t have to factor in “us” when making plans, or prioritize the other person -- but that does leave you with an awful lot of “free time” as you get older, since you aren’t ferrying kids to soccer practice. I would recommend that you find out what you really love and start doing it, but also expand into other new areas and “explore.” You have the time to read, to learn, to try new things, to travel, to make new friends (and stay in touch with them), to volunteer, to get involved in an organization that you feel strongly about (there are a lot of good charities and outreach programs that would love to have you).

You need to figure out what makes YOU feel fulfilled... and how you define a life of fulfillment. It’s different for everyone. For me, it makes me feel fulfilled to run this blog, to help people learn more about themselves and understand each other better, so their own relationships can go smoother. It makes me feel fulfilled to spend time with the people I love, to nurture the platonic relationships I have, and to be known as a good friend. It makes me fulfilled to love animals and give them the best life I can. My job makes me fulfilled, because I see it as a catalyst for encouraging people to be their best selves and focus on what is good. Writing fiction makes me feel fulfilled, simply because I love doing it. Some people want to look back on their life and see how well they raised their children; I want to look back on my life and take pride in how much hard work, creativity, imagination, and passion went into filling up a bookshelf with my own stories.

I think to be happy in a relationship, you first have to be happy outside of one -- because you know what you love, and who you are, and what kind of a person you want to be, and know that happiness -- true happiness -- doesn’t hinge on your circumstances, but comes from inside yourself. My life is a box of chocolates -- there are good times and bad times, days I’m overjoyed with life and times when I am so depressed I can’t get out of bed... but a relationship would not fix or change that. My happiness is mine to craft.

Everyone needs relationships -- not everyone needs a romantic one. It can be hard to stay happy when your friends no longer have time for you, because they have gone on to get married and have kids and the most important person in their life is their significant other -- there’s often a blank space for single friends, since being married / in a relationship takes them in a new direction. But that’s okay. You can move in your own direction. I encourage you to find and surround yourself with platonic relationships that make you feel fulfilled. I only ever feel lonely and wonder about a romantic entanglement when I’m unable to talk to people and connect to them in a meaningful way. But I’ve found that when I have a steady exchange of ideas and conversation (real conversation, not superficial) I feel... quite content with myself.

One final thought: your feelings may or may not change, but (not that you need to hear this, as an open-minded Ne-dom) ... be open to the possibility that you may feel differently in a few years (and you may not). I’ve always been told that my desire to be a mother would kick in at some point in my 30s as my “biological clock” winds down and it’s never happened for me, but I’ve known friends for which it has happened. ENPs may not settle down for a long time... but a lot of them also reach that age where they realize they want Si things -- those things rooted in how the world works, which includes... families. To ground themselves, and to pass their genes on. Some of them, of course, never reach this point, but it’s important to leave it open as an option, in case you wake up at 38 years old and go, “You know... I am tired of being alone.” Our lives go through stages -- and if you reach that point, or if someone amazing comes along, be flexible and go along with it.

One last thing... loneliness. I’ve thought that when I’m older, I WILL get lonely without someone being there for me and as a 6, I won’t like being all alone in my major decisions (assuming I haven’t found my self-confidence by then, heh). But... there are ways around that. Lots of people are not getting married and a lot of people aren’t interested in romantic relationships, which means if that day ever comes, I’m sure I can find someone to live with me in a platonic way. There’s always a way to solve a problem and find a “connection” that keeps two people happy -- and it doesn’t always need to involve romance.

#question #asexual #mbti #enfp #mod post #being single #submission

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 2: falling

Chapter Summary: The morning after the reveal of Emily’s death and a conversation with Spencer.

Contains: mentions of cat-calling and panic attacks, light kissing, grief and mourning.

Word Count: 2.4k 

Comments: this fic is my new baby and i will nurture it to its end. this is gonna end up being a long story and emily won't reappear for at least another 25k so there's that! also look i gave a little flashback to their relationship! in case i didn't elaborate enough, spencer and reader are quite close and have known each other since elle left which ill get into in another chapter! so that's why she has some of his clothes and why he's so close to her and latching onto her. reader is going through it rn but she's shoving it aside which isn't healthy and not good in the long run so she'll have to adress it eventually but that's not now! she's kinda numb rn and trying to keep it together for spencer which is going... as well as one would expect.

i think my favorite line in this was "The song ends but the moment doesn’t." and "But all moments have to come to an end."next chapter, we'll be getting the rest of the bau team (yay!) and emily's funeral (💔)! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love hearing feedback even if it’s something small!

also i’m gonna do a taglist for this fic so if you’d like to be added, send me an ask with the username you’d like to be tagged with!

masterlist | read on ao3

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

- Harry Styles, "Falling"

When the morning comes, you wake up first on your couch and feel a crick in your neck. The night’s memories rush back to your mind and you immediately feel nauseous. You manage to very carefully separate yourself from Spencer and manage to make it to the restroom in time to vomit.

It’s awful.

You don’t even know why it’s still hitting you so hard when Spencer is the one that should be feeling like this. He’s the one that’s known her for years and you were nothing but a fling for her.

You don’t glance at yourself when you exit your bathroom, already knowing the state you’re in. When you enter your living room, Spencer is still out so you decide to do the next best thing you can for him.

You’re thankful that you already have some leftover ground coffee beans from the day before because you really don’t want to wake him up before you can put a cup of coffee in his hands.  Going through the motions of making coffee and then a simple breakfast is calming.

You’re unsure if Spencer will be able to stomach anything if he’s anything like you are now so you make the lightest meal you can. When the coffee machine beeps, you grab two mugs and begin making the coffee the way he likes.

It’s as you’re making your own coffee that you’re interrupted by Spencer calling out your name. You turn around and find him rubbing his eyes and looking a bit better than when he first came in.

“Hey, Spence. I have some coffee if you want some,” you grab his mug at his nod and place it in his trembling hands, “it’s just how you like. Ninety percent sugar and cream and ten percent actual coffee.” A small smile crept onto his face at your joke and you’re glad you’ve managed to make him smile even if it’s just a little bit.

He sips on his coffee and you decide to plate the food that’s still warm onto your dining table. He follows and takes the seat across from you, mumbling his thanks. You both eat in silence for there are no words or fun quips to share with Emily gone.

Spencer is the first to break the silence. “Thank you… Thank you for last night. I couldn’t stay with my team after that. It was just too personal. I know I’ve mentioned it before but I’m the youngest of the team and though they mean well, they tend to baby me. I… I couldn’t handle it so I left them.” He pauses, fingertips tapping in a familiar tune on the ceramic mug, “I didn’t want to be alone and you’re the first person I thought of. I know you know… knew Emily and that you would just be there for me so thank you.”

He looks directly into your eyes as he says this and you know how serious this must mean for him so you reach out for his hand, which he extends for you, and squeeze it in your own. You have to articulate your response properly because you don’t want to scare him off by saying the wrong thing.

Maintaining eye contact, you speak, “I’m glad I was able to be there for you, Spencer. To be the first person you came to means a lot to me. I hope you know I’ll always be there for you, for the small and the big things. While I may not be as close… While I may not have been as close to Emily as you were, I will still grieve for her. Just knowing how much she meant to you is enough for me to know how much a beautiful person she was. From the little glimpses I’ve seen of her and the tidbits you’ve told me over the years, I know this is going to be one of the hardest things for you… and if you let me, I’d like to be there for you.”

He’s like an open book after you’ve told him your resolve, like the book you’ve reread more times you can count and the original copy has been worn down due with some of the passages long gone but memorized in your heart. His eyes are watering again and he’s out of his seat faster than you can comprehend and he lifts you up and his arms wrap around you tightly, as if you’re his lifeline.

He whispers words of gratitude into the crown of your head and you hold him back just as tightly, tears springing to your eyes. You’d do anything to take his pain away and if this is all you can do then you’ll do it willingly.

“I want you here,” his voice is low and wrecked, “I.. I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please don’t leave me. Everyone leaves, Please…”

You look up to him and grab his face gently in your hands, wiping the tears from his cheek as you say, “I’m not leaving, Spencer. I’m right here. I’m here for you always. I promise not to leave you. I’m with you. I’m here.” At this, he looks even more broken and only nods his head, breath hitching and his sobs ceasing for the moment. You know it’s not enough for him so you guide one of  his hands to the pulse on your wrist.

“Count.” And he does, his mind focuses on the beat and it calms him; it reassures him you’re still alive.

When the minute is over, he looks significantly more calm and less likely to cry again. He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re really there and you pull him in again. Physical contact is meant to ground people and you only hope this helps him.

A shrill ring interrupts your thoughts and you know it’s Spencer’s because you’ve heard it many times before from him and Emily both.

He lets go of you to answer it and he tenses immediately as he hears whoever it is on the other line. He says a few things in response and his eyes become glassy again. He hangs up only a few moments later and turns to you.

“My team wants me to help inform Emily’s mother of her death so we can start planning her funeral…” He closes his eyes shut and his fingers clench into his palms. Slowly, you walk up to him and unfold his palms and find red, crescent indents on his palms.

“I can drive you…? I know you took the metro here. Let me help, Spencer.” He just nods and you lead him to the bathroom to help tidy him up. You turn the faucet on and hand him his toothbrush, your fingers lingering on Emily’s red one before grabbing your own. It’s a familiar routine and as you finish, you leave to let him use the restroom and wash up while you rack through your closet to find something he's left over to wear for the day.

You manage to find a striped brown button up and matching brown pants while you put on a simple outfit, a grey long sleeve with jeans and a pair of black vans. You knock on the door and he opens it after a moment and takes his clothes from you. You go back to your room to fix up your hair and after a while you deem it acceptable.

As you’re doing your makeup routine, you hear a knock then, “Are you decent?”

“Come in, I’m almost done.” The door opens and you catch his reflection in your mirror. He looks better but the despair that clings to him is obvious to you.

He lets a small smile fill his face and though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you still match it. “I’m surprised you still had this. I had wondered where this outfit had gone but I remember that when I stayed over that night I had to leave immediately and left it here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t just throw it away and I kept forgetting to give it back to you. It’s a good thing otherwise you’d be left in some sweatpants and a Star Trek t-shirt.” He lets out a small laugh at that and you’re grateful you’re able to get him to genuinely laugh.

“Okay, I’m done. We can head out now.” He follows you out of your apartment and into the passenger seat of your car. The ride is silent to Quantico, unlike the usual rides you give him where you play a new genre for him and for him to compare it to his classical music and talk about some facts of the music.

When you finally arrive, you both sit there. He doesn’t want to leave and face reality and you don’t want to be left alone with only the truth to haunt you.

Spencer breaks the silence once again, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would’ve gone last night… If you can, can you pick me up later? I… I can’t be with the team right now. It’s just too fresh.”

“Of course, Spencer. Just send me a text a bit before and I’ll be there.” He nods and gives you a quick hug before leaving and your eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a pinprick in your vision.

Like a switch flipped, you can only think of Emily. It’s not fair that she… that Emily is gone, that’s she’s dead. You never thought this was a probability. She was always such an impervious figure in your mind, a larger than life kind of person. You knew it was a possibility in her line of work but it never crossed your mind that it could actually happen to her. She was a strong woman, never letting anything affect her and you can’t believe she’s gone.

You shouldn’t even feel this strongly for her, you’re not meant to be more than a friend to her but you can’t help but think of her as your lover. Every little moment you’ve shared with her flashes in your mind. One in particular stands out, one that had happened only a month or two ago.

“Ugh, Emily. We’ve gotta go or else tomorrow morning is gonna be hell for the both of us.” You drag her away from the bar and shoot a smile at the bartender who only shakes her head and mouths “have a nice night”.

“ No ,” she whines, “I don’t want to, babe. We were having so much fun. Let’s stay here and dance some more.” She grins at you, taking your hand and pulling you back into the crowd. You let her because you can never say no to her, not when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile.

Her mood is infectious and you let her have this one last dance. It’s not even a song you know but you think it might be your new favorite with the way she twirls you around and looks at you with affection and fondness.

Being with Emily is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, even if this is a temporary thing. You would do anything for her, even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.

The song ends but the moment doesn’t.

“Okay, okay, Em. We really need to go now.” She pouts at you but relents and follows you out of the club.

Before you reach your car, she pulls you in, her hands cradling your face, and she’s looking at you in wonder, “Y’know I can’t believe you’re actually here. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You mean so much to me. I hope you know that.” She leans in and kisses you. You savor every moment of it, feeling her smile against your lips. Like an imp, she grins widely and leaves multiple pecks around your lips, never quite touching.

It’s just you and her in that moment and she’s never seemed more lovely than in that exact moment.

Deciding that her actions are enough, you grab her by the chin and your free arm wraps around her waist so that she’s flush against you and slam your lips onto her own. Every emotion you’ve felt for her is poured into the kiss and you hope she can feel it. It’s passionate and messy and it leaves you wanting more.

She lets out a small moan when you move your mouth to pepper kisses onto her jaw and to suck on her sweet spot, sighing praises into her skin as if they’ll imprint on her, an irrefutable claim.

You’re not sure how much time passes between that moment but you only stop when you hear multiple wolf whistles and she groans before pulling away from you and yells at the offenders, “Shows’ over, you fucks!” Then she turns to you and leers, “We’ll finish this back at my place.”

You’re only able to nod and look at her in awe,  “Emily Prentiss… what a woman you are. I’ll never be able to forget you know?”

She smiles even wider at your admission, and beckons you forward and of course you come closer and she admits quietly, “You won’t ever have the chance to. I plan on never letting you go.”

But all moments have to come to an end.

If only that was the truth because she never brought up the conversation the morning after. Whether she actually remembered it and shoved it aside or she genuinely couldn’t remember, you can’t decide what’s worse. You never mention it because you don’t want to ruin something that already works and now… Now you would never have the chance to find out because Emily was dead.

Tears well up in your eyes and you recognize the signs of an oncoming panic attack. It’s with a wet laugh that you realize that you were right, your dramatic thoughts from the night she texted you had come true.

Emily Prentiss would haunt you forever and you’ll let her if it means you’ll never forget what she sounded like or what each gleam in her eye or each smile meant.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

[miss-bakukiri]

A good nights rest

18+ | Aged up Bakugou x Fem reader | Slight degradation

y/n = Your Name

2150 words This is a bit of fluff story that builds up into smut scene. So if your looking for pure smut (lemon) that’s not what this is. I hope you enjoy it. Its my first short story. Let me know if you want a prologue or part 2! ---- As a rule you don’t let your hookups spend the night. It can send the wrong message that you are interested in something more than fulfilling a need. But then again Bakugou always does what he wants and you have broken your rules just by letting him come see you on a regular biases. Just for sex though, you don’t have time for anyone needy. Which is why Bakugou was the perfect hook-up, he didn't have time for that either. You watch him snooze in your bed, considering waking him up for another round. You decide against that knowing the pro hero needed his sleep. Instead you direct your attention to the gauntlets he left by your door.

Today he had showed up at your door in full gear, smoke still steaming off of him from a recent encounter that had apparently been very close to your apartment. You were a support engineer and his gear had intrigued you from the beginning. They looked cool but you thought you could make some improvements. So you grab one and head down to your workshop, knowing full well you might get in trouble later.

You worked freelance to keep your creative freedom so you had everything you need just below your apartment. Hours pass in a blur and suddenly big arms encircle you. “What the fuck do you think you are doing Y/n” Bakugou growls in your ear from behind, sending a shiver down your body.

Acting perfectly calm you turn to face him and say matter of factually “Making you more badass”. He scoffs and replies sounding a bit annoyed but intrigued “oh ya? How so?”

A sly smile spreads across your face, you were not in trouble... yet. “Did you know the sweat in your palms isn’t pure nitro?” You ask in a way that was obvious you already knew he didn’t know.

Bakugou starts to ask you how you knew that but then stops himself knowing that at any point you could have gotten a sample from him while he was asleep.

You explain that you created a way to concentrate his sweat into pure nitroglycerin and the rest evaporates through a vent. This allowed you to design a much less bulky gauntlet. Instead of looking like one big grenade your CAD drawing looked more like packs of explosives strapped on his arm. “Each one holds quite a powerful concentrated amount of your nitro. It’s smaller but holds almost twice the power. So less bulky and more efficient!” you explain.

Bakugou evaluates your design, showing no sign of being pleased or pissed until he finally says “Okay. Make it” You squee out loud in excitement. “I’ve rigged my shop to start the machining process automatically so I just have to hit start for now and check on it again in a few hours”

Looking you up and down Bakugou asks “you sleep at all?” and you just look away not saying anything. “It’s 4am, you should get a few hours in” he says sternly.

You miss a lot of sleep and meals when you get into a project. Laser focused on perfecting the task in front of you. Bakugou has forced you to eat and sleep in the past, claiming that he needed his favorite toy charged up for him next time. He fusses a lot more than you would have guessed considering he is ranked at #1 least friendly of new Pro Heros.

Sensing your incoming protest Bakugou picks you up princess style and carries you upstairs. You squirm and resist his firm grip, knowing it’s useless against his strength. “HEY! if you don't sit still I’ll throw you over my shoulders like a sack” You knew all too well that wasn't a bluff and spitefully obeyed him. Bakugou lays you down somewhat gently in the bed and holds you to his chest. “Go to sleep” he commands. You can’t help at giggle at the fact that he’s being so nurturing to a hook up."Oi, what the hell are you giggling at?” he asks in an obviously annoyed tone. “I know you just wanted me rested for a good fuck later but i can take care of myself. No need to pretend you give a damn.” you reply flatly while tracing your fingers over his firm chest. Suddenly he shoves you back and takes you by the jaw so you are forced to look him in the eyes. Leaning slightly over you with his deadly eyes fixed on yours he growls “You are the dumbest smart person I have ever met. I mean really how is it possible you are this dense”

Confusion and anger sweeps over you. Bakugou was really angry right now. More angry than he has ever been around you. “I am not DUMB” you yell back defensively. “Oh ya then answer this question, what the fuck about my personality says I would stick around and look after someone I don't give a damn about” he yells. And it dawned on you. Bakugou isn’t the type to make sure someone that doesn’t matter to him eats regularly or sleeps enough. In fact at first he would just fuck you and leave. But he started sleeping over sometimes. You figured he was just tired from his work. I mean there is NO WAY Bakugou Katsuki would ever get attached to some random hookup. Right? But then why did he start cooking you breakfast in the mornings or check to make sure you were drinking enough water... How did you miss this? The whole reason you decided to keep this up is because you thought for sure there was no risk of this happening. You’re not the type to miss details... Bakugou loosened his grip on your face seeing that it was starting to hit you. He didn't rush you though. It was an uncharacteristic show of patience. You stared at him. You wanted him. And not just sexually. Somehow he has become comfortable in your life. Looking back over the last few weeks you realized you would even miss him when we was gone. A small joy would flutter in your heart when you heard him knock.. you had written this off excitement for getting laid.. you had been lying to yourself for weeks now. Finally you managed to say in a quite voice “You like me” A cocky and small grin spread on Bakugou’s face “About fucking time” he said as he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. This was a kiss Bakugou has never given you before. Usually his kisses were rough and passionate. You felt this kiss through your whole body and for the first time in a long time your felt vulnerable beneath someone. Pulling back from you Bakugou traced his thumb on you bottom lip and said “And you like me.” A small tear ran down your face. You had shut out so many emotional needs and just focused on work for so long. You hadn't wanted this but somehow Bakugou got through to you. That asshole. You take him into a deep and passionate kiss. This lights a fire in Bakugou and he returns your show of enthusiasm by pushing you forcefully against the bed and holding your wrists in his hands. He begins to kiss down your chest and nip at the tender flesh of your breasts. You let out small moans as he pulls your tank top down and reaches your nipples. He starts sucking and biting at your nipples with a dedicated enthusiasm. Your whole body feels hot and your back arches against his hold on you. His head drops down your stomach to between your thighs, finally releasing you from his grip. Your hands quickly grasp his hair as he kisses your clit through your wet panties. “That didn’t take much. You are soaked y/n” he says wickedly, making you whine. Bakugou bites your inner thigh and then licks it to sooth any pain. He is perfect at pushing your limits, knowing exactly how far to go. Little bite marks now line both of your thighs and you wiggle your hips begging for attention to be brought to your puffy clit. Sliding your soaked panties to the side he takes his finger and rubs your clit in small circles but its not enough so you attempt to grind against his fingers. He pulls back and says “Greedy fucking bitch” before suddenly shoving two fingers inside your tight pussy. The shock sending electricity up your body and for a moment he finger fucks you with the intensity you have been begging for before stopping. You let out a sad moan at the loss of your fullness. Before you can complain further he lowers his head to your clit and begins licking your clit forcefully. Again causing you to surge with sudden pleasure. You hear him moan in satisfaction. You knowing he is getting off on making you feel good. The vibrations from his moan hitting your clit in exquisite pleasure. He slides two fingers inside you again and finds that magic spot curving upward and hits it again and again. Each stroke sending you towards your climax. Knowing you are close he intensifies his tongue strokes and you release on his fingers, your tight walls clenching around him in orgasmic pulses. Before you can come down off your high he sits up and pulls out his dick, red and twitching from waiting so long. He strokes himself a few times to spread precum from his tip across his shaft, while marveling at how much of a mess you are from your orgasm. “You're so damn beautiful y/n” he says quietly as he inserts himself into you, filling you completely. Overstimulated from your recent organism his entering your body sends intense pleasure through you. Bakugou thrusts himself into you at a brutal pace, overwhelming your cunt. He holds your hips tight so he can be fully within you. Quickly you start to build up to your climax with each lightning thrust from Bakugou. Stopping just before your climax Bakugou pulls out and turns you over easily as of you weigh nothing, once again sliding into you as deep as he can from behind. He reaches his arm around you to hold you by the neck and pull your back up to his chest. Firmly choking you by pressing on the sides of your neck. You begin to feel your pleasure heighten as you melt in his arms completely. “Good girl” he whispers in your ear. You feel his hot breath on your neck and it sends shivers down your body. Using his other hand he begins to rub your clit “do you want to cum” he asks in a deep growl “ye.. yes” you chock out. “I’m not convinced. Beg me.” he commands in a whisper as he slows his thrusts. You cry at the loss of his momentum. “Please. I want to cum. Please Katsuki” you say desperately in your overstimulated and dumb state. At hearing his first name come from your lips for the first time katsuki goes over the edge, pumping wildly into you while rubbing your clit. “Cum for me. Cum like a good girl y/n” he says out of breath and almost on command you release and ride out your orgasm on him. It melts over you in waves and you moan as loudly as you can through his grip. Your walls tighten and spasm around his dick and send him into his own release, filling you with his hot cum. He gently lowers you onto the bed, again taking in the site of you and smiling in satisfaction at job well done. He knows no one could ever fuck you as good as he does. You love seeing this look of pride in his face when you’re done, because it means you did good too. Said the right things, begged in the right ways to make him go that level of crazy. Without saying a word he walks over and gets you a glass of water and a towel. He is always good at after care. After you both come down from your highs you look at him and ask “So can I call you Katsuki now?” he smirks and says “Duh, I am your boyfriend. You can call me what you want... except Kacchan or Blasty.” You feel your blush on your face at his words and you ask shyly “You’re my boyfriend now?” Looking at you  directly Katsiki replies “Ya, if you want me to be.” Blushing now even more red than before you answer “Yes. And I am your girlfriend” you say just barely holding his gaze. Not being able to handle how cute this all was you buried your face in his chest and the both of you drift into a much needed rest.

#mha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha #bnha smut #mha fan #bnha fanfiction #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katuski x reader

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

‘Big Killer Clone’

Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars + Original Character

Collection/Series: N/A

Pairing: Captain Bear (Clone Trooper OC) x  GN! Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, a senator is a dick to our boy. He’s very unhappy and upset, but there’s a lot of comfort. Swearing, a lot of angst, my friends.

Summary: There is only one person Bear wants to see after a senator makes a comment about him being a danger to the younglings, and that is you. 

Notes: Inspired by this comment by @alamogirl80:  I bet he specifically requests to work in or near the Jedi temple so he can escort the crèche younglings. And it breaks his big ol heart when certain clone hating senators make comments to the crèche master that it’s dangerous to let a “big killer clone” like him around the kids. 

I just picked a random corrupt senator for this.

Mando’a:

Shebs’palon - asshole

Shebs - Ass

Vod - Brother

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Bear likes working in the Jedi temple, he likes the Jedi themselves. They’re respectful, generally kind and do not treat him as if he is some mindless machine or identical clone without a personality or views of his own. But, what he likes most about working in the temple is that he is almost always put on creche and youngling duty. 

It is a well known fact that Bear enjoys working with the little ones, even more so that the little ones enjoy his presence. He has a ‘way’ with them as he’s been told time and time again, something many of his other brothers struggle with. He enjoys being asked to escort the younglings through the temple or to stand watch during their break times between lessons, to make sure they do not get up to mischief or in some cases help them get up to mischief. Some clones complain that it’s glorified babysitting, but he likes babysitting. He’d rather nurture and protect the little ones than fight and kill. It suits him better. 

It is fun for him to stand there and smile as the little ones run and play, as they act like children for the few precious moments they are allowed. It warms his heart when little arms wrap around his legs in a hug or the children choose to use him as a living climbing frame. He feels wanted, needed, useful. The children do not balk or shy away from him despite his large size, they are not scared of the scar that covers his left cheek and they do not mind his deep voice. Instead they run to him and call his name and demand he play with them, they like him, and it is in many ways bittersweet. 

They are lovely, sweet. They cause a smile to light up his face, and yet, they are a reminder of what he isn’t allowed to have. What he isn’t allowed to have with you. He is a clone trooper, romantic relationships are not allowed. He breaks that rule regularly to be with you. Families, children, aren’t allowed either. A babe would be harder to hide, a family almost impossible and so they remind him of the thing he so desperately wants but is told he cannot have. He hopes...he hopes that one day he can have that, but hopes are not realities. 

Still, it is his favourite duty and so he does not expect to leave the jedi temple that day in a foul or unpleasant mood. He expects to be full of life, energy and smiles, after a day of children chattering away at him, drawing new things on his armour and sharing their new tricks with him. He always left the temple in the best mood.

But that shebs’palon of a senator Danry Ledwellow, the Er’Kit, small and blue, had ruined his day. Completely, entirely and only with a passing comment hissed out from behind sharp teeth and a look of distrust and disgust. It didn’t matter that Master Yoda had come to Bear’s defence or that he didn’t care much for the senator at all, the fact remained that his mood had been ruined. 

He was used to comments. He was a clone. There were many people that distrusted them, disliked them, and made it clear what they thought whenever they were given the chance. When he was shiny, it had bothered him more, as a cadet he would get angry, frustrated, irritated. As he grew he learnt to shrug it off, that it didn’t matter so much. Once you’d heard one insult, you’d heard them all...or so he thought. 

He’d been watching the younglings train when Dandry had made a passing comment with disgust riding his voice to Master Yoda, about how ‘dangerous’ and ‘irresponsible’ it was to have a ‘big killer clone’ like him around such small and defenceless younglings. As if Bear would ever hurt them, as if he could ever be considered a danger to them, as if he knew Bear and knew who he was and what he was capable of. 

He had, in the moment, chosen to stare straightforward, to bite his tongue and let the feeling sit inside his chest. His helmet was in place and that helped to hide the anger he was feeling. He was surrounded by little one’s, many under the age of 7 and he refused to give into emotions that would only confirm that senator’s views or scare the little one’s. He left Master Yoda speak in his defence, in truth, barely hearing the words. His mind was cloudy with frustration,fixed on replaying the words ‘dangerous’ and ‘killer’ over in his mind. 

The children had noticed a change after that, tugging on his fingers and demanding he sit as they clambered around him and told him stories. They tried to lighten his mood, something he was grateful for but that failed. He pretended for them, although he suspected many did not believe him, their natural intuneness with the force allowing them to sense his mood better than many. 

Kal and Delta didn’t ask when he stormed into the barracks intent on putting away his armour and leaving as soon as possible to see you, knowing that you’d find a way to brighten his mood like you always did. It was obvious to the two of them that an angry Bear was best left well enough alone, they didn’t see their captain storming around often. They shared a look, both deciding they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his shitty mood. Kal returned to cleaning his blaster and Delta pretended to fall asleep in his bunk.

The new kid, Jammy, or Shiny as they’d taken to calling him looked on with trepidation. He’d not been with the squad long, a couple of months, and in that time his Captain had always been smiley and cheerful or neutral at worst. He’d never actually seen him angry, it was...a little intimidating given Bear’s already immense stature. He decided it was best to just not stare at his captain. 

Sunny didn’t seem to have the same worries as the rest, “What’s eating you, Cap?” He’d stopped mid way through messing with those vibrant orange curls of his, hand still raised to the top of his head. It was clear to Sunny that his vod wasn’t his usual self, especially considering it was known he’d been working with the younglings that day. He was never in a bad mood after working with the younglings. 

“Don’t want to talk about it.” He’s already by his bunk unlatching each piece of his armour and putting it away in his footlocker. He doesn’t want to hang around and the intensity of the stares from his brothers isn’t helping his mood. He’s not usually quick tempered, that’s Kal’s thing. In fact, he rarely finds himself having any sort of outburst, but he can feel it rising in him today. It’s unwelcome, unfamiliar. He doesn’t like how angry he feels. How his mood is changing, shifting. How one stupid senator could change his whole mood just like that. It was stupid. Who cared what a low level, unimportant senator thought? It shouldn’t even bother him...but it did. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes!” It comes out clipped and harsh, a shout that has Bear’s shoulders dropping with a sigh. He turns his eyes on Sunny, with an apologetic frown, “Sorry...I just, I don’t want to talk about it, Sunny, okay?” The regret mingles with the anger and frustration and it tastes like rot on his tongue. 

“Yeah, yeah, hey. I shouldn’t have pushed. Anything we can do, vod?” He’s concerned for Bear. Sunny has never seen his brother, his captain, so agitated and it’s worrying. But he knows Bear will tell them about it later, when he’s calmed down, when he’s got his head back in the right space. He was the most level headed of all of them, he’d sort it out himself, even if he didn’t ask for help. At least, not from them. The whole squad knew there was only one person he’d want to see right now, you. 

Bear shakes his head, dark brown curls flying with the movement as he lets them loose from the big bun he’d shoved them in that morning to get his helmet on. 

“No...Just need some time.”

In truth Bear just wants to get away from the Barracks and run to your quarters, to hold you in his arms and bury his face in your shoulder, to breathe you in. You are a comfort to him, greater than anything he’s ever known and his soul is calling for you, calling for your gentle touch and soothing words. He knows you’ll have the right thing to say, that you’ll ease the anger that bristles his shoulders. You always manage to brighten his day, to make things seem better even when they’re at their worst. 

It’s you that he runs to after a difficult mission. It’s you that he seeks out when he wakes in the middle of the night from some bad dream or memory. It is you who he goes to when he needs comfort. He loves his brothers, but he is still their captain and there are just some things he can’t do around them. Being entirely vulnerable and open is one. 

“I’ll...I’ll see you late, vod.” 

They don’t ask where he’s going as he storms out of the barracks in only his blacks. They know.

The corridors are filled with his brothers, some nod in recognition, others ignore him, not knowing him personally. None stop to talk to him, perhaps they notice his mood or perhaps they’re too busy, either way Bear is grateful. He’s even more grateful that your quarters are down an empty and quiet corridor, where no one can see him coming and going or stop to question why he’s there. 

It’s late enough in the evening that he knows you’ll be back soon, that your shift will end and the medical droids will take over for the night, unless there’s an emergency. 

You gave him the code to your quarters months ago, he’s memorised it so well that he doesn’t even have to think as he inputs it, muscle memory does the majority of the work for him instead. He knows your quarters as well as he knows his bunk in the barracks, has his own drawer of clothes there, nothing fancy, but you insisted he have something comfortable and cozy to wear when he stays over. 

He uses the refresher first, cleans the dirt off his skin and if he turns the temperature higher and lets the hot water attempt to burn away the comment, then that’s something he won’t mention later. It helps, a little, but not entirely. 

You're tired when you finish your shift, always are. Being a doctor for the GAR was exhausting and today was no different. Still, you have enough wits about you to notice the lights are on and there’s a familiar pair of boots by your door when you enter your quarters. 

“Bear? You here?” You call out to him, kicking off your shoes and shrugging out of your doctor’s coat. You hear a muffled ‘here’ from the direction of your bedroom and wander in that direction. 

You can tell he’s used the refresher before you see him, just by the smell of warm water and soap that permeates the air in the corridor, there’s a warmth to it that says it wasn’t long ago and that’s confirmed by the sight of him still wrapped in a towel on the edge of your bed. 

Bear has his elbows on his knees, hunched over with his face in his palms. His long brown curls are wet and mussed, his skin has a tint to it that says he had the water on too hot and he looks decidedly unlike himself. It worries you the moment you see him and you find yourself kneeling beside him, knees unhappy about the hard floor. It matters little when he’s so clearly upset. 

You’re gentle as you pull at the hands covering his face, they are easily double the size of your own and cover him too well, hide him from you. The moment you can see his eyes they shift to you, deep and sad, it’s clear something has happened and it makes your chest ache. 

You keep a hand in his while your other cups his cheek, stroking softly over the freckles that dot his skin like constellations without names. He leans into your touch, a heavy sigh that falls from his chest and with it some of that tension that he holds in his shoulders too. 

“What happened, big?” 

Your gaze feels like it’s scanning his soul, intent, but not unwelcome, he begins to speak freely for the first time all day. His mouth wraps around the words like they’re poison and each element of the story only deepens the frown that furrows your brow. 

“Senator Ledwellow stopped by the temple today while I was watching the younglings, shebs thinks I'm a ‘danger’ to the younglings, a ‘big killer clone’ he called me, as if I'd ever hurt them! I’d die for those little one’s, I’d...I’d...I’d never...I’d never hurt them!” There are tears streaming from his eyes, big fat ones that call to how deeply the thought of ever hurting those children or being thought of as a danger to them cuts him.  

“I know, big, I know! Hey…” You cup both cheeks with your hands, pulling his face closer to your own as you reach up on your knees to meet him. His skin is warm against yours as his forehead comes to rest against your own, but his tears are cool and wet as they drip from his skin onto your own in rivers. 

You stay there, rocking slightly with him as he cries. It is the sort of cry that wrenches free from the depths of his chest hard and raw and causes your own throat to close up with emotion. 

You have seen Bear sad, you’ve seen him scared, but those were small things. The melancholy of a bad memory or the fear from a nightmare, this is...this is different. It speaks of the fear he has deep within him that he is a danger to those children, that he is the big bad killer clone and not who you know him to be. Safe. Kind. Gentle. Caring. Loving. You have never doubted your safety in his presence and you have never doubted the safety of any child around him either. 

You want to storm from your quarters and find Senator Ledwellow, to slap him across the face or at least give him a good talking too. To even think, to even suggest that Bear was anything but gentle with those children, to suggest he would hurt them, be a danger to them...it lowers your opinion of the senator and swaps your mood from worried to angry. 

Still, Bear needs you more than the senator needs a slap, so you stay and you hold him to you. Letting his tears wash over your skin and his large hands grip at your back and shoulders as if that will ground him and keep him sane. 

It feels like hours by the time the tears and the gasping slows, and a quick glance at the time tells you it has been. You are gentle as you tug him to his feet and help him dress, there is a new exhaustion that fills his bones now. The sort that can only come from crying out all your emotions. He is grateful as you tug his legs through a comfortable pair of trousers and carefully maneuver his head and hair through a shirt. 

“Sit down for me, big.” You sit him at the edge of the bed again and grab a comb from the side, the one that goes easily through his curls and pulls the knots free. He is quiet as you tug at the knots and braid his hair back and out of the way for sleep. 

It’s a little thing, something he would have forgotten to do, but that makes the world of difference when he wakes in the morning. It is the little things you do that make his chest ache for you, his heart hurt in the best sort of way. You know him. You care for him. You treat him with a  tenderness that most don’t because of his size and his place as a clone trooper. Today is a day that he especially needs that tenderness, so he lets you braid his hair without comment and lets you ease him under the covers of your bed before you get into your own night clothes. 

You look radiant. That’s what he thinks when he watches you dress. There’s something about the low light of the lamps across your skin and the fabric of your night clothes, silky and shiny, that makes him wonder if you aren’t secretly part Diathim, glowing, angelic and something more. 

You tread carefully, turning down all the lights before slipping under the covers with him and urging him to rest on his side, back facing you. He doesn’t question nor does he complain as you curl against his back, holding him as if he were smaller than you and capable of being the little spoon. 

It is comforting, the way your legs tangle with his own and your arms wrap fully around him. The weight and warmth of you at his back as you press little kisses into the space on the back of his neck. 

“I know you, big. I love you and I don’t think you’d ever do anything to put those children at risk or hurt them. I hope you know that about yourself too.” You murmur it into his ear, soft and quiet, almost afraid to speak too loud and disrupt the peace. You tighten your grip on him and hope, hope that he doesn’t think he’s a danger to the younglings, hope that he doesn’t doubt himself because he is the gentlest person you have ever met. 

He can’t find words, not really. Can’t express the gratitude and love he has for you in that moment. That you allow him a safe place to cry and feel, so be something other than captain and clone. Instead he reaches for your hand on his stomach and holds it in his own, presses it to his heart with a squeeze before pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your skin. 

His beard tickles the back of your hand, like always, and it instantly makes you smile. He doesn’t need to say it, you know he loves you and you don’t expect to hear it tonight. Not after the tears and the clear pain he’s gone through. 

Still it is a lovely surprise to hear, when he clears his dry throat and quietly whispers, “Love you too, Sunshine” at you. His voice is raspy and deeper than normal, dry from his crying and his words are soft and quiet, barely audible. 

You pull him tighter against you and hold him, rubbing circles into his chest and pressing kisses to his neck for a good hour before he falls asleep. The quiet little snore he does, oddly not irritating or disturbing at all, a noise you’ve grown fond of, rhythmic in nature lets you know he’s officially asleep. 

It’s only then that you let yourself fall asleep as well. Only once you know he is asleep and won’t be awake and alone that you can allow yourself to drift off, content in the knowledge that he’d be okay. You promised yourself that if you saw Senator Ledwellow any time soon you’d have a bone or two or maybe ten to pick with him.

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

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[sweetestlamb]

Lighting Up Your World

Episode 17 

Summary: Gang-tae and Mun-yeong continue their road trip, finding themselves and helping others along the way. 

Author's note: Here is part 1 of the weekend fic updates! I tried my best to make these interesting and multilayered channeling my inner Jo Yong. The focus is on MY/GT and their healing but I also wanted them to heal others too on this journey so we do meet an OC. If I had time this could be something that continues each weekend, but work and life starts again very soon so I won’t make any promises but I had a really fun time writing this and trying to plot out the story so it felt familiar to IOTNBO with conflicts and resolutions, only they all happen within the chapter lol. Without further ado, here’s episode 17 ;) *Play “Lighting up Your World* 

The mood shifts drastically after Sang-tae's departure, they're both sulky and a bit flabbergasted by his sudden decision to leave, this was their first trip as a newly fledged family, it felt monumental, like a rite of passage of sorts; but by the morning they've accepted his choice and set sights on their next location. Gang-tae lays in disbelief thinking about how much his brother has changed, how much their relationship itself, has shifted.

Thanks in part to her, his eyes land on her sleeping form, gorgeous in the low lighting of the camping van.

She had crashed into their lives like a bulldozer, hell bent on having him, but only as an object- something to capture and conquer. Somewhere along the way, despite their unconventional start; love had blossomed. It wasn't an easy start and it took time to nurture but he couldn't imagine his life without her now, their little family.

I love you Moon Gang-tae.

She loved him. Meant it with every fiber of her being, it was detectable in her eyes, swirled in the pools of her captivating eyes. If that wasn't enough her actions proclaimed her love, never turning her back on him despite his sometimes despicable behavior and words that cut her. Running back to defend him from the one person she despised the most, uncaring of her own fate. He hadn't known he could experience love like this, all-consuming devotion. Not until she entered his life.

A smile blooms on his face, it all started with a stab. He knew others wouldn't understand- Jae-su's disbelieving face flashed in his memory- but it made perfect sense for them, she who was so jagged and broken when he met her and him so complacent and selfless, saving others even at his own detriment.

I met your mother after she stabbed me in the hand. Then months later she stabbed me in my other hand.

His chuckles fill the tight space of the van, until he hears a hoarse voice, "What are laughing at?"

With a small jump he turns to face her, adorable baffled look on her face, and he sits up to better see her.

"I was thinking about us."

She looks at him deeply, searching his eyes before continuing, "And that made you laugh? Were you thinking of good things?"

"Well... I was thinking about how we met and how we would tell that story to our future son who looks like me." He responds sheepishly, heart singing at the soft look that forms on her face, that happens often now, her blushing every time he mentions their future. He makes sure to do it often, for both of them. After wrongly viewing their relationship as ill-fated, it seems more important than ever to say the words out loud, breathe them into the world and give them life. Mun-yeong and Gang-tae are destined. 

He can’t help but imagine her round with his, no their child, swollen belly protruding from her slim frame, as she demands his attention and curses him for her condition. It would be as beautiful as it was terrifying. 

All in due time. 

After a few seconds of sustained eye contact she finally snaps out of her daze, craftily switching the subject to escape her own unease, “How are you really feeling about Oppa leaving? Do you want to end the trip and follow him?” 

For a moment, he wonders who is the person and what have they done to his Mun-yeong? The woman he first met lacked empathy for others, disregarded their feelings and trampled all over their boundaries; she was a new person, reborn. No, unpeeled, showing another layer to her personality. Considerate and caring with him and with Sang-tae, even putting them first at the expense of her own desires. 

Swiftly removing the blanket covering his torso, he strides toward her on the elevated bed, reaching out to caress her head, she is aptly watching his every move head subconsciously leaning into his tender hold. 

With his eyes firmly locked on her own he replies, “I...am happy. I am happy that he knows what he wants to do, he finally has a dream of his own. A dream just for him. And...I don’t want to go back. When I told you I loved you, that was my promise to keep moving forward, no matter what.” 

Being here, with you, that is my dream. That he leaves unsaid. 

He basks in the warmth of her smile, beaming on him, shiny solely for him. His own personal sun. 

“You’re so cheesy now.” She teases him playfully rolling her eyes, and he chuckles before shrugging, he’s never had a chance to be cheesy, probably has all that cheesiness packed up inside ready to come out, she is going to get it all. 

Curling his hands around her small face, he draws her closer before pressing a kiss to her forehead, watching her eyelids flutter close as she sighs gently. His lips are soft on her smooth skin, nothing more than a peck, a silent thank you for being here with him. For staying. 

Then he finally announces, “I know our next destination. While you were sleeping I found another spot for us.” Before she can question him he states, “It’s a surprise.” 

Her groan of annoyance is music to his ears, as he rushes to the front of the van, ready for their adventure. 

The sunlight brilliantly twinkles on the rippling waves of the water as he pulls up to their destination, a lake sequestered away and roughly hidden by trees and foliage, there is a quaint wooden dock leading to the watery oasis but not much less. He hums in contentment gazing at it, it is almost too peaceful to be true but they of all people deserve some peace after the hell they have been through. 

Mun-yeong stumbles out of the tiny bathroom of the van, peering out the window at the view, she stares at him bewildered, “A lake?” Why did you take us to a lake?” 

He shakes his head at her question, “To swim. Why else do people go to a lake?” He can hear his brother’s voice replaying in his mind, Why ask such an obvious question? 

With a glare she humphs crossing her arms in a symbol that he can read all too well- I’m not doing it- before stomping away, “I’m not swimming.” He watches her back as she defiantly strides back into the small compartment. 

He makes them a quick late breakfast of rice and grilled meat, scooping out a hefty amount for his grumpy girlfriend who has yet to leave the camping van. He had nagged and pleaded at the door, eager to get outside and see the lake, it was tempting especially on such a scorching day. But she had ignored all his calls, even childishly responded “I can’t hear you.” Before he had stomped away in the opposite direction, fondly irritated at her behavior. 

The van door creaks open as she finally decides to exit, he pointedly does not look up, not wanting to seem too eager at her arrival after she spitefully ignored him. He pushes the food in her general direction, not making eye contact. So she sits down on the unoccupied chair to his left, he is unprepared for the breadth of naked skin he sees when she does. 

With his fixed gaze on the food in his lap, the edges of his peripheral vision catch her bare legs, heeled sandals encase her foot but there is no material in sight on her legs. Just bare smooth, inviting skin. 

He gulps, reaching for his water. 

Drawing in a deep breath to reinforce himself, he slowly begins to raise his head, eyes traveling from her ankles to her smooth thighs, similarly naked before he stops on her torso. She is wrapped in a bathing suit, tight fitting and devastatingly distracting. The devilish suit is black and partially mesh, with her skin peeking through the stomach but solid across her breast and lower region. 

His tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, despite his desperate swallows of water to re-hydrate his heated body. Grabbing his food, he stuffs his face with rice and meat hoping that will prevent him from begging her to let him take her back into the van and peel that suit off her and.... 

“I am still not swimming, but I figure I can get a nice tan at least.” She offers as away of explanation, he nods robotically, eyes still trained on the ground. Before a white bottle is forced into his vision, he jumps back in his seat, eyes finally landed on her body completely. 

Unbelievable. 

The glimpse he saw does nothing to prepare him for the entire picture, she looks amazing in the suit as if it was made specifically for her body, knowing her taste and monetary capabilities; the idea isn’t too far-fetched and he curses whoever gave this weapon to her. Atop the bridge of her nose sits her glossy black sunglasses, the same ones she wore when he saw her outside, a beautiful black storm cloud under falling cherry blossoms. Her hair is pulled back into a high messy bun, two braids on her side that disappear into the bun, wisps of hair that escaped the bun frame her face beautifully. In short, she looks like the cover of a high-end fashion magazine and he is at a lost for words. 

His musings are prematurely interrupted by her waving something in his face, a thin container, “--Are you listening to me? Take off your shirt.” 

He shakes his head, almost dropping his bowl in shock. 

Only seconds away from taking another gulp of water before her request. He doesn’t miss the smirk that curls on her lips, he knew she did that on purpose. 

“What? What are you talking about?” He shakily asks, pulling his thin white t-shirt protectively around himself. 

She tilts her glasses down ensuring that he can see her eyes before dramatically rolling them, “You act like it’s something I haven’t seen before.”

“We’re outside though!”

“So what?” She fires back, looking at him, exasperation farrowing her eyebrows.

He breathes hard, their eyes locked in a heated battle, before he sighs accepting his fate, admitting to himself that he is not as opposed to the idea has he’s acting. Guilt settles in his stomach as he remembers the excitement that coursed though him as he realized that without his hyung, he would be alone with Mun-yeong.  All by themselves, at given times no one around for miles. No one to hear their screams. The idea of being alone and unencumbered with her was thrilling. 

In one fluid motion, he stands up and grabs the end of his shirt, carefully lifting it up and over his head. Standing in nothing but his slippers and dark blue swim trunks, the only pair he packed, unlike her who probably had endless suits of different styles and colors. In that way they were vastly different, he was practical and minimal whereas she was extravagant and larger than life. 

Her eyes burned on his skin as she stood up as well, carelessly tossing her food on the table, before curling her finger at him in a seductively beckoning call, “Come closer.” Her voice was smoked honey, as if in a trance he found himself obeying, stepping forward a half step, “Closer” and closer he went until he stood directly in front of her. 

She audaciously looked him up and down, tongue peeking out to swipe across the span of her pink mouth. 

Then with anticipation thick in his throat he watched her hands grow closer to his body, creeping closer and closer to his skin and then they were finally on him. 

He jolted at the cold. Jumping away from her hands. 

“What’s wrong with you? I told you I was going to put sunscreen on you.” Her eyes narrow and he feels a blush cover his cheeks, at his red face she lets out a long drawn ahhhhhhhhhh before speaking, “Why did you think I wanted you to take your shirt off? Were you expecting me to do something else?” She lifts one perfectly threaded eyebrow at the suggestive inquiry while simultaneously moving back into his orbit to rub the sticky white cream into his stomach. 

He lets himself enjoy her touch, deliberate ministrations into his skin, her face close enough for him to kiss and only a thread of control keeps him contained. Her hand strokes across his abs, fingers purposefully creeping into the crevices of his body before she trails her manicured finger down to his trunks, so close to where he wants her hand, panting now with anticipation, half hard just from her hand on his skin. 

Then she stops. 

Pats him on the shoulder with a clipped, “All done.” Impish look clouding her face, he glares at her departing back, the pep in her step; she knows exactly what she just did to him. The wink over her shoulder reinforcing his speculation. 

Damn, she-devil. 

When she begins to rubs the same sticky cream into her legs, slowly and wantonly, peering at him whilst she does it, his only solution is to run and dive straight into the water, welcoming the cool blanket that soothes the raging heat in his loins. 

He swims alone for a few minutes, propelling himself back and forth in the shallow water, before he eventually feels the twinges of boredom creeping in, this was meant to be their adventure, he didn’t want to swim alone, imagining wet kisses and wandering hands under the guise of the water.  All new experiences that he only wanted to share with her. 

With those thoughts in mind, he silently vacates the water, footsteps light as he tiptoes to Mun-yeong, glowy and alluring from her spot on the lounge chair she  pulled seemingly out of thin air. Sunglasses still shielding her eyes he waves his arm to see if they attract her attention, she lays motionless still, breathing steady and unhurried. 

Perfect. 

Now, knowing that she will not notice his approach, he creeps forward putting on his best imitation of a spy, avoiding twigs and leaves, anything that will alert to his presence. After a measured and timed approach, he looms over her, taking a moment to bask in her tranquil beauty. She is a goddess in that bathing suit and he wants to remember her face in this moment, in a few seconds she will be ravenous in his arms, clawing and thrashing. It is the perfect juxtaposition of her personality. A beautiful disaster. 

Before he can second guess himself- maybe she was right and he did have a death wish- he grabs her, lifting her out of the lounge chair and wrapping her securely in his arms. 

“YAH!” Her reaction is expeditious, nails scrapping across his arms as she tries to break free from his strong hold, he winces at the sharp burst of pain shaking her slightly to dislodge her, but her efforts do not hinder his mission. He laughs at her screams and threats, “Put me down! Gang-tae, I will kill you!” Gaining speed as he reaches the end of the dock, with a bounding leap he flies through the air, weightless, until they crash through the surface of the water. Water splashes onto the dock from their impact and his nose burns with the sudden influx of water, before he scrambles to the top, taking her now suspiciously limp body with him. 

The sight that greets him when they burst to the surface, makes his body go numb with regret. 

Her face is ashen, almost grey in hue, wet hair plastered to her skull. But what stands out most are her eyes, usually brimming with love and light for him, now sunken and packed with an emotion he never wanted to put there; fear. 

He can feel how rapidly she is breathing, her body shaking like a leave under his hold as he keeps her afloat, the air wheezes out through her colorless lips as she begins to convulse in his arms, he is paralyzed under her visible distress. 

She begins to keen, “Please, please, get me out. I need to get out!” The sorrowful plead that shatters into a scream breaks his heart into a million pieces, and with only a small hiccup he responds to her cries. Kicking his legs powerfully, swimming as quickly as he ever has in his life, arms protectively wrapped around her shuttering form until the reaches the bank. 

It takes a moment to for her to recognize that they are now on land but once she does she leaps from his arms, whipping around and racing to the camping van without another word. 

He is left shell-shocked. 

Standing alone, wracking his brain to figure out what caused such a visceral reaction and not coming up with an adequate answer. Then he realizes that is not important, all that mattered now was reaching her and comforting her, those eyes would haunt him forever otherwise. 

Dashing to her rapidly retreating form, he catches her arm, twirling her around to face him. 

The fragments of his heart, shatter into even smaller pieces. 

Twin trails of tear stream down her face, dripping off her chin before disappearing into the ground. 

“Mun-yeong...” He vocalizes her voice like an apology. 

She breaks the connection between their arms, turning once more to walk away and he can’t stand to see her walk away from him, not again, never again. 

Softly capturing her hand again, he begs, “Please, tell me what I did wrong?” 

Struggling to speak through her choked throat she replies, “I can’t right now. I just need to be alone for a bit, I’m not running away.”

Those words again. 

He wants to hold on tighter, recalling how she had run away after uttering those words before, viciously slamming all her doors shut and pushing him out. She reads his face like a children’s book. 

“I promise, I’m not running away, this time. So let me go, for now.”

Trusting her words, he releases her hand. Heart sinking as she climbs the stairs and disappears into the camping van. If the sun continues to shine, he is unaware, the dark clouds of shame and regret hanging over his forlorn head. 

“When I was young, I had dreams of my mom drowning in a lake.” 

His head buzzes at the confession, so intensely focused on the food sizzling on the grill he had missed her reappearance. Lowering the tongs to give her his full undivided attention as she bares another layer of Ko Mun-yeong. 

“My dad... I thought he drowned my mother in a lake. And every night I would have dreams about her screaming for my help. Sometimes when I have those sleep terrors, I can see her above me, her body is dripping wet. I....” She takes a pause, sitting down in a chair further away from him and he almost cries at that small amount of distance she is placing between them. 

But she is also wearing his flannel shirt, dwarfing her small stature, her fingers clutching it as if needing protection. 

Following a deep breath she presses on, “I haven’t been in water since. I’m....scared. I’m sorry that I’m already ruining this trip--”

He doesn’t allow those words to settle in the air for a second before he’s out of his seat and crouching before her, he begs for permission with his eyes, and watches as she ruminates before nodding, with a sigh of relief he gathers her cold hands in his own, warming them instantly. 

“You didn’t ruin anything. I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never want to make you cry, I told you I would protect you and I let you down. I am so sorry, please forgive me.” Tears pool in his eyes, as he presses his lips to her hands a kiss following each word of apology, anguish flooding his system. 

Silence fills the space between them as he continues to kiss sweet sorries into her skin before she wrangles her hands away, placing them softly on his downward chin, lifting his head until their eyes meet. 

Her dark orbs are now swirled with pain, love and something inexplicable. 

“I should be asking you to forgive me, I don’t want her on this trip. This is just for us, she can’t ruin this.” Her voice trembles despite the force that she exclaims her wish. 

He smiles grimly, “We can’t run from her. You once told me that trauma should be faced head on. You were right, we can’t be expected to be perfect yet. We’re only human, you didn’t do anything wrong. Thank you for coming back and letting me in.” 

I love you.  He thinks it hard enough for her to hear it. 

A sad smile slides across her face, “You’re so adamant these days, I can’t shake you. If I tried to run, you would probably chase me down.” 

He doesn’t verbally reply to her assumption, letting the resolve in his eyes speak volume instead, she has always been able to read him like a book, this time will be no different. 

She appears so delicate and fragile, he doesn’t even attempt to stop himself from crouching up and pressing a kiss to her lips. She moans at the barely-there touch, hands tightening on his face as she drags him closer, deepening the kiss with a languorous swipe of her tongue. He crawls into her space, tilting his face to transform the kiss from deep to dirty, mouths opening to prod and swallow each other. Her teeth graze across his bottom lip before, pulling it and releasing it with a filthy, pop. His dick jumps at the stinging sensation. 

Reluctantly he pulls away from the delicious kiss, worry for her overriding his sex drive, she hadn’t eaten since this afternoon, locked herself away since the lake incident and skipping lunch. It was more important that she get sustenance right now. 

She groans at his sudden withdrawal, blindly chasing after his mouth. He laughs at the adorable image. 

He presses a piece of grilled beef to her mouth instead, chuckling as she opens her eyes in doe-like surprise. He keeps that comparison to himself, she wouldn’t take kindly to him comparing her to self-proclaimed arch nemesis right now. 

“Eat this. My mouth doesn’t have any nutritional value.” 

Her face twists as if she is about to argue, but the booming growl of her stomach pierces the air and she blushes before opening her mouth and consuming the succulent piece of meat. 

Dinner passes by in a flurry of meat and rice, as they take turns feeding each other and she teases him to retrieve meat from her mouth. They talk about the future and all the places they want to go, he hasn’t smiled this much in his entire life. As he packs up their dishes and chopsticks, he sees her stretching, pulling her body taut from the motion. He wonders if she’s wearing anything under his flannel shirt, her bare thighs taunting him for a second time today. 

“I’m sleepy.” 

Like a Pavlovian whistle, his body reacts to the innocuous declaration. Images of their previous night together flood his minds, slamming her into the bedroom wall as he sucked wet kisses into her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist as she sensuously grinded into his erection, her head thrown back in rapture as they imitated sex through their clothes, both hungry as they ripped through the clothes, his eyes rolling back as he slammed into her tight pussy, her nails scratching welts on his back. The sweat on their bodies mingling and drenching her luxurious sheets. 

The soft click of the van door closing slaps him from the memory and it takes a moment to realize that he is now alone. 

He presses down on his erection, hard, embarrassed at how aroused just a memory of her can make him. 

Inhaling the crisp night air, he marches into the battlefield. 

The camping can is dark upon his entrance, the only illumination provided by the stray moonlight that filters in through the tiny windows, after his quick and efficient appraisal of the confined area, he realizes that she is nowhere to be found.  Strange. 

Scratching his head he wonders to his bed mat, pausing for a moment before making the decision to remove his shirt, confidence dominating the usual stream of shyness that floods his bloodstream. He lays down on his bed roll, comically similar to Mun-yeong as she had beckoned him to join her on the bed. He had been a fool then, to refuse such a desirable offer, but he wouldn’t be making the same mistakes ever again.  

The soft patter of her footsteps approaching causes his heart to skip a precious beat. Then it stops completely when she enters his line of vision. 

Temptation. 

That is the word that blares like a siren in his head as he takes her in, her hair is down in soft waves around her face, face washed clean and flawless in the light, and finally he looks at the short silk slip that contours to her every bump and curve. Spaghetti thin straps exposing edible shoulders, as the silk ends dangerously high on her thigh, lace dancing around the ends. 

Jaw permanently on the ground, he watches in dismay as she barely glances at him, wondering eyes fleeting across his abs almost too fast to catch, as she climbs the stairs to her bed, her ascent making the slip creep obscenely up her thigh almost giving him a wonderful glimpse at her ass. 

Pushing past the frog in his throat he croaks out, “Where are you going? I thought we would sleep down here together.” 

She absently arranges her sheets, moving them out of the way, putting her body on clear display for his starving eyes. With eyes that glow in the dark she calmly replies, “Why did you think that? It was your idea to sleep separated in the first place remember?”

Yes, he remembered. When Sang-tae was still on this trip with them, she had offered for Sang-tae to take the bunk bed and they sleep side by side. But he had declined anxiously, knowing that he would not be able to keep his hands to himself if they were sleeping in such close proximity, terrified at losing control so close to his brother. 

She seemed to take a malicious glee from throwing his words back in his face. 

“But that was before.” He whined, “I thought you were sleepy.”

He tried to subtly infuse meaning into the word hoping to remind of their last rendezvous. 

She didn’t bite. 

“I am sleepy, that’s why I’m going to sleep. Good night Gang-tae.” With a quick wave, she rolled over, facing away from him as he glared daggers into her back. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t see the smirk that overtook her face at his obvious frustration. 

Time ticked by, or it would have if they had a clock in the van. Instead he marked time with the sounds of crickets chirping in the forest. 

Chirp. 

Chirp. 

Chirp. 

Finally he sat up, tossing the blankets from his body as he gazed at Mun-yeong’s still form, the moonlight provided enough radiance to see her perfectly in the dark. He couldn’t resist the pale glow her skin, clearing his throat he called out quietly, “Mun-yeong? Mun-yeong-ssi? Are you awake? Mun-yeong?”

His calls went unanswered. 

He sighed. 

Then he picked up a shoe throwing it at the wall of the camping van, the sound deafening in the silence. She jolted up, with quicker reflexes than you would expect from someone who was deeply sleeping. “What was that?” She turned to him, shock on her face. 

Twisting the truth slightly he replied, “Um.. I don’t know. Sounds like something ran into the van. Probably an animal. But now that you’re awake I was wondering if you’re cold?”

There was a pregnant pause and he vaguely heard her whisper under her breath, “Ran into the van, my ass” before she spoke loud enough with the intention of him hearing, “No, I’m not cold. If you’re cold you should use Sang-tae’s blanket he left it for you.”

He rolled his eyes at her helpful suggestions, that was the last thing he wanted. So he pressed on, “I’m using that blanket too, but I’m still cold.” He gathered the blankets as he approached her bed, resembling a child fleeing to their parents room after a bad dream. 

“What do you want me to do about that?” She asked, still turned away from him and that made it effortless to ascend the stairs and slide into the bed with her. His body’s weight sinking into the bed, announced his presence and she looked at him in surprise. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cold.”

“I told you to deal with that on your own.”

“No, I want you to help me deal with it.” He pulled her into his arms, crushing her face into his naked chest. Minutely moaning at the smooth feel of her nightgown on his skin. 

With a huff of dramatic annoyance, she pushed him away, turning her back to him again before saying, “Fine you can stay. Please go to sleep, just go to sleep.” 

Their night at the guest house surfaces in his mind, her pleas for him as he coldly rejected her once again and begged her to sleep, suppressing his desire to take her right there and then. Karma was indeed, a dish that was best served cold. 

He now knows exactly what she’s doing and why. She is serving him a taste of his own medicine, showing him how he made her feel in those moments when he wasn’t quite ready to let her in, but wasn’t man enough to voice that to her either, so he lashed out and hurt her unnecessarily. 

Gathering his courage, he swallows his pride, “I’m sorry.”

Silence is his only reply. 

Then with a small move, she presses back into his chest, their bodies melding from shoulder to toe. 

He wraps his arms around her, humming at finally having her back in his arms. He holds his breath, waiting for the seduction to continue but she simply lays in his arms, contently playing with his fingers while he’s so hard he could hammer nails with his cock. 

With a casual grip he begins to play with her fingers too, moving their hands up until they are treacherously close to her breasts, ensuring that every swipe of his thumb on her hand also collides with her nipples. Her breath hitches when he catches her erect nipple, but she doesn’t stop him. 

Then he begins to undulate his hips, thrusting his boxer-clad cock into the silk of her slip, groaning at the intoxicating sensation before his control snaps like a rubber band and he surges forward, pulling her close and grinding into her with dark intentions. 

She hisses at his cock’s hard crash into her ass, “Aiish you sly fox, is this why you came here?” 

In lieu of responding to her obvious inquiry, he pushes his hand down the front of her gown, squeezing her breasts in his hand, harshly pinching the tight nipples until she moaned and squirmed in his hands. He pumped his thick length into her back, haphazardly catching her ass and the crease of her thighs with each rough thrust. With a punishing squeeze to her chest, he retracts his hands only to push his boxers down his hips, cock bouncing out in excitement, ready to play. 

His eyes roll back at the feel of her silken gown on his hot engorged skin, precum wetting the material obscenely, as the game ends and she is as enraptured as he is, humping back into him, vigorously. Ripping her panties off from under her nightgown, he tries to plunge a finger into her moist center, but his elbow knocks into the bed railing and he groans at the hindrance. She is a panting mess in his arms now, pressing back into his heavy thrusts, his cock catching on her wet folds, as they both moan in pleasure. 

“Can I try something?” Nerves prickly under his skin.

The question leaves his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. She stills at the sudden question but shakily replies, “Yes, just do it. Stop talking.” 

He laughs at her impatience, jubilant that she wants him with as much vigor as he wants her. Grabbing her around her waist, he hoists her up into a seated position before sitting up too, using that leverage to turn her upside down, before dragging her onto his body and he lays back down onto the bed. 

A perfect 69. 

She gasps at the sudden change in position, before looking back at him from over her shoulder, “I knew you were watching porn in the bathroom. Next time, come to my room we can do some hands on learning.” 

He swats her ass in retribution, “Now you’re the one talking too much.” 

She smirks pressing her lips together and he can’t help but joke, “Well you don’t need to close it completely, just put it to better use.” 

Eyes darkening from the proposition, she leans forward and swallows the head of his cock, wet mouth wrapping him in a squishy heaven. His hips subconsciously jerk forward, forcing more of his length in her mouth and she moans around the intrusion. 

Then he looks up at the feast before his eyes, her wet and open above him, primed to be devoured by his hungry mouth. He wastes no time in licking her folds, wiggling his tongue into the moist cavern and groaning as she moans at the sensation, vibrations tingling around his cock. They both set off to wreck each other, her tongue relentless as she slurps and licks every inch him, distracting him from wrecking her. At a particularly hard suck at his balls, he shoves two fingers into her, corkscrewing immediately and giving her little room for adjustment. 

He grabs her ass cheeks to pry her open further to his onslaught, twisting his fingers into her at the same time licking across her clit, pulling it into his mouth and humming at her addictive flavor. 

She pulls off his cock to shout, “Fuck.” Among other expletives and it’s good that he’s not a religious man because pure blasphemy falls from her sinful mouth. He misses the feel of her mouth around him, so he thrusts up wildly catching her mouth as he fucks into her, in perfect synchronization as he fucks into her with his fingers. 

She is a drooling mess above him, spit drowning his cock in a filthy river, he focuses on making her lose her mind as he feels his end growing near, tongue and fingers both hammering at her pussy, plunging, filling, worshiping. 

Her body twitches violently, drawn tight like a bow, before snapping its release and her juice rain down on his waiting face, bathed in her glory. 

His tongue never stops its lap at her until she keens in pain, “No more, it’s too much.” Reluctantly he pulls away, pretty swollen lips closing at his retreat, he kisses them one final time. 

Without warning, she leans forward and slides down his cock, pushing past her gag until he feels himself slide down her throat and two quick fucks into that constricting paradise is all it takes to shoot hot cum down her throat, his eyes roll in the back of his head. She swallows and swallows, until finally drawing off as the abundant cum dribbles on his naked thighs, some even pooling on the sheets. 

Collapsing to her side of the bed, it takes some effort to meet her eyes in their opposite positions, her head at his feet. But when he does, he sees all the love and fire he knows shines luminous in his own, he worries if this passion might just be too powerful for even them, might it burn them up leaving nothing but their ashes? 

What a way to go. 

He gathers her pliant body in his arms, moving her until she's sheltered in his arms, she will never have to sleep alone again, she has Gang-tae and Mang-tae. The doll now clutched tightly in her hand.

They drive for days before they come across a small town, pulling into a gas station to refill the van tank. They hadn’t yet emptied it since their first fill and he was working hard so they wouldn’t, loathing the idea of getting stranded on the side of the road with Mun-yeong. She would chew his head off. 

“Be careful.” He calls out to her as she wonders into the diner adjacent to the gas station, they’d she’d grown tired of rice and grilled meat and had decided to get some food at the nearest diner. He’d told her to go ahead and get them a table, while he refilled the camping van. 

He thinks about how far they’ve come on this journey, literally and emotionally. He has shared stories with her that he has never shared with another soul, not even Jae-su. Has experienced things he never thought he would be allowed to, this trip itself was a life long dream that he'd foolishly given up on but she showed him that it was okay to dream.

He didn't have to suppress his every whim or desire, was teaching him everyday that he was worthy of wanting and receiving.

With all those thoughts permeating his mind, he is completely caught off guard when he enters the diner and sees her menacingly looming over three young boys, a butter knife in her hand. "If you keep bothering her, your parents won't have children." Those are the words, he hears her utter, to children.

All who, trip over themselves fleeing from her screams of “A witch, a witch!” as they scamper back to their tables and said parents glare at the women dressed in black from head to toe, provoking their innocent children. 

She smiles at them, waving with the knife still prominently in her hand. He promptly snatches it from her grip, reprimand on the tip of his tongue before a small mouse-like voice cuts him off.

"Thank you lady. Are you a princess?" Appearing from behind the shadow of Mun-yeong's body, a thin child creeps out, twiddling her fingers as she gazes up at Mun-yeong like the stars are hung in her eyes. He's never seen a child look at her like that. 

"No. I'm not a princess. They weren't wrong, I'm a witch." She answers deadpan, twirling her fingers to add to the glamour.

She looks very much the part in a bellowing black dress with a full skirt and puffy sleeves, her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail with a black rose pin in the front. She towers above the young girl in shiny black leather pumps, that almost gleam under the fluorescent lights. Armor back on since the lake. 

He readies himself for the cries that her statement will evoke.

Flabbergasted when instead he hears, "Cool. You're the prettiest witch I ever saw."

Mun-Yeong preens at the compliment before turning to walk away, but the girl catches the material of her dress, rudely tugging it to get her attention.

The sharp eye at the hand on her dress is enough to make the girl immediately release it but Mun-Yeong peers down in question, "When I grow up will I be pretty like you?"

Without even a second to consider Mun-Yeong replies, "No. No one is pretty like me."

He watches the joy melt from the child's eye and opens his mouth to lessen the blow, take the sting off her too blunt words. But she beats him to it, "You shouldn't aspire for looks, you can't control that. Pick something you can control, like being strong so you can beat up your bullies." Her little shoulders perk back up and she beams at Mun-Yeong, his girlfriend's lip curl up at the side.

Before she walks into the diner, finding an empty table, he watches in shock as the young girl wordlessly trails after Mun-Yeong. The sight so familiar it knocks him in the heart. Just like flies to a fire, people like them were drawn to Mun-Yeong's light, the sparks that singed around her as she boldly did what you only dreamed of.

He joins them both at the table, and finally takes a good look at the little girl. She has a cute round face, rosy cheeks, her hair is pulled back in a disheveled ponytail, what stands out are her clothes, they are too put it kindly filthy. Tattered mess that hand off her thin frame and immediately the need to protect her overwhelms him.

"So what's your name brat?" Mun-yeong's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Min-jo."

He sends a warm smile in her direction, noting that her eyes haven't once left Mun-Yeong. Still he adds to the conversation, "Hi Min-jo, I'm Moon Gang-tae and this is my girlfriend Ko Mun-yeong. She writes children's books, maybe you've read one of her books before."

If her eyes were filled with adulation before, now it is tenfold as she jumps in her seat, "You write books? That's so cool! Do you like it? Are they fun? What are they about?"

Taking a sip of the water, the server brought them a few minutes ago with the menus, Mun-Yeong glances from the corner of her eye, before darkly whispering, "They're about chatty little brats who get eaten when they ask too many questions."

Min-jo's eyes widen in shock, little mouth falling into a perfect O, before her bell like giggles ring through the air, "You're so funny Ms. Witch!"

Mun-Yeong smiles back, a full face crinkling smile, at a child. Someone else's child. He is stunned into silence as he watches them converse, the kid ignoring Mun-Yeong's hint and asking her a million more questions. She even answers a few. He watches the miracle, stuffing noodles into his mouth, utterly charmed and bewildered.

When they've all finished their meals- he's still shocked at the amount of food such a small body was able to consume- he opens his wallet and places down the amount plus a hefty tip. He stands up and they follow his lead, Min-jo still trailing behind Mun-Yeong, before a voice stops her in her tracks.

"Oy! Where are you going? You know better than to bother the guests, get back here!" A woman in an apron waddles out, catching her by her arms preventing her from taking another step.

The woman bears no resemblance to the child, sharp where she is round so he wonders if that's her grandmother, before he asks the question aloud. Min-jo's head bends down until her face is completely hidden, "No. I'm an orphan I don't have anyone." Her voice is barely a whisper, lost in the wind as soon as it leaves her lips.

He watches Mun-Yeong tense at the word, eyes shifting back and forth between the two. Three orphans in one diner, the world's saddest story.

He wonders if that was what drew the girl to them in the first place. Destiny. Then he remembers what he overheard. Definitely destiny, Mun-yeong showed up when she needed someone to help her. 

If someone shows up when you need then, I call that destiny. 

Mun-yeong sniffs at the tears that are pooling in the child’s eyes, her own eyes dark pools that reveal nothing. 

"That's no excuse to feel bad for yourself, you can't control that either. Stop following me and learn how to be a leader, then one day when you're older you can make your own family. I did." Her words are matter of fact with no warmth yet he sees the hope they ignite on the child's face, her eyes large in wonder. Pride washes over him like a wave.

Mun-Yeong turns to leave, before promptly stopping and returning to the girl, bending down to meet her at eye level, "Tell those bullies that a witch gave this to you and if they tease you again it'll turn them into frogs." She unpins the black rose pin from her hair sliding it into the young girl's messy hair, her little hand comes up to touch it in wonder.

Tears swimming in her innocent eyes.

Without another word, Mun-Yeong leaves in a whirlwind of black cloth and witchy flair, and he watches Min-jo watch her, her seemingly cold words had been exactly the balm this child needed. He bids Min-jo farewell, bowing at the older woman who takes the young girl's hand, maybe not her biological grandmother but clearly she cares for her. He hopes they let each other know one day, their true feelings.

Love should be shared and acknowledged, unless what's the point of loving?

"You made her feel better."

She looks up at him from her place on the chair, passively, "I told her the truth."

He noticed a long time ago that she doesn't quite know how to respond to compliments, begs for them but once she receives them she quiets down as if taken back by their presence.

"You did really well Mun-Yeong, I'm so proud of you." Instinctively her head comes forward seeking his hand and he happily strokes his hand across her head, amazed by the woman he loves. He impulsively presses a kiss to her head as well, breathing in the floral aroma clinging to her hair.

That night as they lay together, no facades this time, she walks right over to him and slings into his arms, demanding that he stroke her head to help her fall asleep. He concedes happily. Too tired to try for anything more, he resolves to do it tomorrow. The thing that has been on his mind since he told her that he loved her.

He's going to ask her.

What's the point of having all this love and not showing her?

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #kdrama #kim soo hyun #seo ye ji #episode 17 #weekend event #fluff #smut #self-discovery #part 1 #meant to be 5k each #this ended up being 7k #I can't write anything short anymore #my details need details lol

[namjoonchronicles]

worst | hs

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 1.9k

↳ summary To think that the world has conspired for you to love Hoseok is highly unlikely, but everything is possible with a little faith.

↳ song pink sweat$ ‘at my worst’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge is 4/7 done, I had much fun with this one and I toyed around a concept I have been trying to write better off. Enjoy <3

I need somebody who can love me at my worst. No, I’m not perfect but I hope you see my worth.

.

.

Soulmate. The concept is mesmerizing. To think that there’s such a person for each and everyone, that one person that was created by the universe specifically for you. From the time that they were born, down to the events that happened which led them to you, they are all orchestrated in order for you to meet. You always thought that those who eventually found their soulmate are the luckiest person in the world. Like you said, the concept is mesmerizing. To think that the stars in the sky, conspired for Hoseok to happen. How he is a gift to your dull life. 

Even as he is jumping on the couch and walking towards one end to the other when his feet were vacuumed by the robot vacuums that he himself bought. You wiped your face down. “I get it now, why you said it was scary, I get it now,” Hoseok yelped. You puffed your cheeks at him. You’re pointing the remote at the screen, swiping on the Netflix, before you paused to look at him. He was sitting beside you, hiding his face behind the striped cushion. “Are you sure you want to watch this with me? You’re absolutely sure?” your brows knitted as you grew doubtful. There’s a number of movies on your watch list but you had been wanting to watch Alice in Borderline since you heard about it. It stirred your interest, knowing that your friends have a knack of watching good movies. Your husband must have watched the thriller without you because he looks traumatized. You feel sorry for him and tell him again that he doesn’t have to do this with you if he doesn’t want to. “What do you want me to do? Sleep in the room alone while you watch it here?? That’s even more scary, sleeping alone…” he pouted. Voice muffled, hugging the cushion like his life depends on it. “I’m strong…” he said, enthusiastically. Before he tracts back into the cushion, putting on his defensive mode. You laced your fingers with him and leaned your head on his shoulders. He jumps at every scare, and hurls the cushions he could get his hands on, then screams his head off when the jump scares arrives. You’re so different from him. He doesn’t really like coffee and only drinks them when he needs to. He would walk into the room and be friends with everyone just by smiling. And in communication, he would much rather speaking out front on what he wants. He is excellent at reading the room but unlike you, he doesn’t dwell on the softer side and the easier way of solving things, instead, he focused on solving the problem and it didn’t matter what it looked to others. His goals are immaculate and crystal clear. He will fight hard for what he wants and even if he is shaken by the pernicious stage of it all, he will give it, his entirety. The way that he is fierceless, firm and throttling towards his goals are admirable. He might be pulling your PJs by the sleeves in an attempt to hide from the monster in the screen, sweating profusely and chanting your name; but this much is true, he would do anything for you. You remember it so clearly, these hands that hold you so tight, his wedding band shimmering in the dim light, was the same that rainy night. Those veins protruding, wet from the heavy rain, dripping down his chin and determination in his eyes--as he held the door open. Leather jacket, black shirt, black damaged jeans. His black Chelsea boots marched forward, had you cornered on the wall behind the door. Pinched your chin so gently, his lips ghosting over your cheek, to finally trail down on your lips. Strange it was that it wasn’t him that was shivering, it was you. He had his eyes fixated on the view of your Cupid’s bow. “Do I believe in forever, you say?” he smirked against you, “Of course no.” He clasped your lips with his own, exhaling hard through his nostril and moaning in your mouth while his hand ravages all over your body. He shifted his hand down your arms to the phone you’re holding and left them on the kitchen counter. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he growled. It’s really hard to string that Hoseok to this one. When he gestures for you to keep your arm around him so he sleeps better. When he pulls the chair you sat on so you could be closer. When he writes little love notes on every surface you touch. When he sends bouquets of flowers at work or at home. When he wanted a couple shoes that matched the couple shirts with the couple phone case. When he stole a spoon of your ice cream when you stole his. When he threw glances across the room at you and looked away smiling. Or when he insisted on driving you home that late night in September after a barbecue party when you looked like a mess and smelled like charcoal. When he dropped on one knee to tie up your shoelaces in the middle of the mall. When he spent his day searching for the laptops with you even when he doesn’t know much about technology and was texting Yoongi at every tech terms he had never heard of. It’s easy to dismiss the love you are poured with when you’re the one receiving. It’s easy to look over the details of the meticulous feeling one would carefully thread. Hoseok was, to put simply, a tapestry torn at the seams. His family was not supportive of his passion for dancing. He ran away at a young age to fight. On Christmas, he was asked why he didn’t return home and he swiftly walked away without answering. The answer was, he didn’t know where home actually was. A home was supposed to make you feel safe, to make you feel at ease, protected and loved for being yourself. His home was anything but that. He was at war with himself for the longest time. Left his emotion behind for as long as he knew. Filled with ambitions from early on, Hoseok had nothing to lose, or so he thought. You could not have interfered at the worst time. He danced till his body broke. The sores and bruises that covered his body, they were the badges he wore. As he lay motionless on the hospital bed, tears trailed down the tails of his eyes, staring helplessly on the ward’s ceiling from the pain he couldn’t speak of, he whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.” The loudest whisper you’ve heard him let out. “What are you saying, Hoseok?” you uncrossed your arm and sped to the side of his bed, fingers clawing on the edges, “Have you not seen yourself on stage? You’re the happiest on it… You forget everything else, even this pain.” You clasped Hoseok’s knuckle, looking hopeful into his eyes, “You were born to be on stage, you’re a performer, I refuse to let you feel like you’ve turned every stone. You haven’t. You mustn't give in… Pain is temporary.” Life is regret. Life is all about regretting the choices we didn’t make. Life is also about accepting the regret we feel from the same choices. And if it means to tell yourself over and over again, that this is good for you, one day, you might eventually believe them. For all that you care is if when the storm comes and swept everything you know away, it’s Hoseok’s hand you want to hold on to, it’s Hoseok’s eyes you want to get lost in and it’s his voice you want to live on for. Maybe that’s what soulmate is. Maybe soulmate is a person created by the universe specifically for you, for you to fight head on with, for you to nurture, for you to lose your mind at so they can put you back together. Maybe soulmate isn’t the perfect mirror of you, but a perfect contender for you. Maybe he is the one that showed you what exactly was wrong about you so you can be better. Maybe he is the one that calls you out on your mistakes so you could fix them. Maybe he is also the one who pulls you close when you’ve pushed him away. Maybe he is the one who wipes the tears he puts on you. Maybe he is the one that puts a smile on your face when the world is against you. Maybe he is the person who would fight the world for your hand. The concept of soulmate is again, mesmerizing. To know just how much the universe cared enough for you that they conspired to create a soul for you, from the beginning of time. They say their names are written on your palms when you were conceived. With these dazzling thoughts, you took Hoseok’s hand in yours, examining each line that crosses its path. “What is it?” He lets you, he himself munching on cereals. You zoomed into his palm more, tracing the lines. “They say, the name of the soulmate is written on the palms, I am trying to see if mine is on yours,” you monotonously explained. Hoseok stares at your head and slowly, but surely, a smile grows on his face. His cheeks rose and his ears turned red. He didn’t fight you off and even encouraged you on it. “Do you see it? Is it in english or kanji? Hangul?” He teased you. You dropped his hand when you realised that he was joking with you. He protests, “Why did you put them down? Keep holding on to my hand…” “I had a really good dream last night, but because you’re being mean to me, I am not going to tell you what it was…” you told him in a sing-song voice. He pesters you. Pouting and poking your sides relentlessly. You usually share with him your strangest of dreams. Sometimes they are the exact opposite of what happened. But the way he listened, and the face that he wore always encourages you. Hoseok listens with his whole body. “I dreamt of you in the kitchen. You have a baby draped over your shoulder and it was crying, and you were cooing it gently,” you told him. He paused for the longest time. He took one spoon of milk from the cereal and sip on them slowly. He lifts his face up, thinking and glancing over the clock on the wall and he said, with a serious face and tone, “Are you sure it wasn’t Mickey*?” .

.

.

. *Mickey refers to Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog. 

.

Copyright © January 7th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are free!

#worst #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #hoseok #hoseok fics #jung hoseok #jhope fics #jhope fluff #jhope imagines #hobi #hobi fluff #jhope fanfic #jhope x reader #jhope x y/n #jhs imagines #jhs icons #jhs fics #jhs x reader #bts fanfic

[inkformyblood]

I Choose You Again and Again and Again

Jangobi Week 2021 Prompt #7 Happy Ending

(Mand’alor!Jaster, Soulmate! AU (but they aren't each others soul mate), Aromantic/Asexual!Jango Fett)

The door hadn't slammed behind him when he left, instead, it closed with a groaning hiss as rusted metal jammed and stuck once more. Jango knew he would fix it once more on his return, could already smell the sharp bite of the oil that would cover his hands and his arms, but for now, he would sit, and taste the rising heat in the back of his throat.

“Buir!”

The sound of Boba’s feet rang out as he charged across the platform, sand crunching with every step before he stopped, dropping to sit next to Jango. Even in the depth of his dark self-inflicted and nurtured fury, Jango couldn't deny Boba anything and wrapped an arm around his son.

“Can you read it?”

Jango glanced down, already knowing what he was going to see: Boba’s arm outstretched expectantly, the customary leather cuff off and held tight in his clenched fist revealing the words stamped onto his skin. They could have passed as a tattoo — and that was a common trick amongst dedicated con-artists and holo-novellas that needed a new plotline — but everyone knew better.

“Are you a Jedi?” Jango read, catching Boba’s delighted grin out of the corner of his eye, so like his own, and the boy’s feet swung out further. “What sort of bantha osik are you going to get into in the future so your soulmate asks that?”

Jango ruffled Boba’s hair, the boy making a half-hearted attempt to bat his hands away although his grin never faded. They settled back into an easy silence, staring out over the ever-shifting sand before Boba spoke up.

It sounded like the words had been brewing inside him for a while, like a gathering storm, his voice calm and steady as he spoke even as he glanced up at Jango, trying to read his reaction after every word. “Is that why you’re so mad at ba’buir? Because you don't have words.”

Jango felt his face slip into the careful blankness he had cultivated over the years as his mind raced, trying to come up with the right words. He had thought, foolishly in retrospect, that he would have more time before this conversation. But Boba was his son after all, adopted in every way, Mandalorian and not, that Jango could find following the death of his sister shortly after giving birth to him.

He noticed everything. Of course, Boba saw the clear unmarked skin on Jango’s forearms, uncovered and displayed as a warning alongside the grin — all teeth and discernible even from behind his buy’ce — when everyone else he knew wore the leather cuffs, even if it was only for privacy.

“No, Bob’ika, it's not that, ” Jango sighed, running a hand over his curls that were permanently flattened from his helmet. “I don't feel love in that way, romantically. I never have and I doubt I ever will, so I don't have a romantic soulmate.”

Boba’s hands were warm on his arm, tugging it further down his shoulders so he could press a careful touch into the blank stretch between Jango’s elbow and his wrist. “Do you love me?”

“Of course.” Jango dragged his son onto his lap, kissing the top of his head roughly before hugging him close as if that one action would be enough to wipe away any lingering worries the child would hold. “And I love my buir, and Myles, and our people. That’s why I’ll go through with the plan.”

Jango huffed out a laugh into Boba’s hair, gently rocking them both as he did so. “Just needed some time first.”

“Ba’buir said you needed to go and be dramatic for a bit, ” Boba reported, the mask of childlike innocence he strived for broken when he collapsed into laughter at Jango’s growl, low in his throat.

“Come on.” Jango carefully balanced Boba on his hip as he stood, striding towards the door back into the compound. “There should be some food left, and I can't be absent from my own wedding planning.”

⁂

Jango was a prince of Mandalore, the adopted ade of Mand’alor Jaster Mereel, but that didn't stop his father from smacking him chidingly across the back of his head the moment they began to walk through the twisting corridors towards the landing pad.

He yelped, the noise aimed to be reproachful more than any actual pain. “What was that for?”

“You’re getting married for an alliance, a needed and required partnership.” Jaster’s voice was soft, almost regretful at what needed to be done, what they both knew was needed for their continued survival. “I wish this wasn't the way but—”

“I will do whatever is necessary so our people survive, ” Jango interjected, scratching at the sore spot on the back of his head. “Don't worry, buir. I’ll be fine.”

Jango was an accomplished liar, but he couldn't help the prick of fury in his chest or the sorrow that had settled over his shoulders. Jaster cupped his face, using that movement to press their foreheads together.

“Mando'ad draar digu, ” Jaster whispered, “We won’t forget them. Ever.”

“I know.” Jango pressed into the embrace, smelling the spices that clung to them both, the heat of the early morning air. The moment passed quicker than either of them would have liked, and Jango ducked his head to inspect his helmet clasped beneath his arm as the lingering warmth of his father’s touch faded. “Who is this Jedi they’re offering up as a sacrifice? Are they hoping I’ll finish what the universe couldn’t and finish him off?”

“They didn't want to send him, ” Jaster said, a barely hidden note of curiosity rattling through his voice, and Jango rolled his eyes at his father’s renewed academic curiosity. “They turned like rabid dogs on the man who suggested it, but the man himself was willing and if that turns out false,” Jaster shrugged, settling his hand on the Darksaber at his hip, “We are Mandalorian, after all.”

“Thank you, buir.”

They didn't speak as they approached the final door between them and the Jedi, that air seeming charged with anticipation and dread. They could both only hope that there wasn't too much bad blood between their people for this plan to work and plan as if it wouldn't.

Outside, the sun burned low in the sky, casting long shadows across the landing pad and stretching out the small escort group’s shadows into something grotesque. Jango’s face was bare, and he caught the slight shudders as they neared the group and their eyes drifted down to his uncovered arm. Good. Best find out if his new husband had any problems with him now, rather than after having to sit through another tedious dinner.

“Oh!” The voice was familiar, the accent clipped at the edges, and Jango felt a frown flicker over his face before he wiped it away, staring into the slight gloom at the centre of the group. “If we are laying all our cards on the table—”

The man who stepped forward was nearly a decade older than he had been when Jango had last seen him: the fire in his bright blue eyes tempered, but not extinguished; while his smile, all smug satisfaction, remained the same. He pulled up his robe sleeve, amidst a hissing chorus from his escort — faceless and unimportant, to reveal his own words.

They were twisted and black, barely legible anymore, a sign of rejection of the worst sort, and Jango couldn't help the pang of sympathy that shot through his chest like a physical wound.

“Regardless,” Obi-Wan continued, his voice bright and a gentle smile on his face even as he stood in the morning sun with his greatest shame revealed, “It is lovely to see you again, Jango. It’s been a while.”

⁂

“Did you know? Before you agreed?”

It had proven to be remarkably challenging to get Obi-Wan alone. Jango hadn't had such a chase in several years and felt his old bounty hunter instincts flow back through him, the thrill of the hunt crackling through his veins. Throughout the entire evening, Obi-Wan had seemed to be just out of sight, slipping through his grasp the moment Jango drew near enough to smell the faint sweetness from the tea he remembered Obi-Wan favoured.

As the night drew to a close, Jango pounced, bundling the lighter taller man into an alcove in one of the gardens. The flower petals gleamed in the moonlight, filling the air with a gently spiced perfume.

“No.” Obi-Wan gave no indication that the proximity bothered him in any way, smiling blandly down at Jango, but he could see the hint of teeth behind it. “This isn't a plot, Jango. We are here to help.”

Jango’s laugh held no humour. “You expect me to believe after every Jedi they could have sent, they picked you?

“I looked for you. After I recovered. I couldn’t find you, obviously, no matter how hard I tried.”

“I am sorry for how I left,” Obi-Wan murmured, settling back against the cold metal, tipping his head back to watch the slow progression of the moon. Jango mirrored his actions after a long moment.

“So what now?”

“We get married and provide a shining beacon of hope for the partnership between the Jedi and the Mandalorians. The galaxy flourishes and peace will be maintained.”

“Di’kut. I meant with us.” Jango’s shoulders hunched for a moment before he forced himself to straighten back up. “I meant what I said, then and now. I like you, but not like that.”

“I like you as well.” Obi-Wan offered the statement up as if it was easy. “And I have no interest in ‘that’. Not anymore.”

Jango lightly bumped the back of Obi-Wan’s hand with his own, feeling the slight twitch in surprise before the other man relaxed into the gesture.

“We can make this work,” Jango promised, smoothing a thumb over the callouses that littered Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan hummed quietly, glancing over at Jango, and his eyes shone silver.

It was a simple motion for Jango to lightly bump their foreheads together like they had when they were younger. Obi-Wan grinned, the same memory occurring to him as well.

“We can make this work,” Obi-Wan echoed, squeezing Jango’s hand tight. “For everyone.”

#jangobiweek2021 #jangobiweek #jangowan #jangobi #aroace jango #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #Star Wars #my writing

[muddy-t-wheels]

(Please ignore me) So I had this dream a few weeks ago, and it’s been stuck in my head since then...

Very quick summary: Our world combines with MHA Universe, I become an Art/English teacher at UA (more of an assistant teacher for Present Mic), and I was reminded of how stubborn people can be. Also soulmates exist in this world for some reason...

So in the dream, both worlds were collided, and faster than you can blink, anything MHA related was whipped from the face of the earth, and while it took a while- everyone silently agreed to not speak of the fandom/content for a very long time. Which of course was very sad, but it is what it is. One of the more common trends that happened was that anyone from our world was as “Qurikless as it gets”. It also came to the attention of everyone in both worlds that while soulmate marks don’t exist in our world, apparently they did in the MHA world.

A few years later, I had become an established teacher, specifically due to the fact that many students seemed to be drawn to me, even if I hadn’t taught them at all. One day, I had gotten an email from someone in Japan, asking if I would be interested in a teaching for the future heroes of Japan at “U.A. High school”. While I was surprised, and thought it was BS (for obvious reason), I decided to respond for the fuck of it, YOLO.

But low and fucking behold, the email turned out to be legit. Principal Nezu and I started exchanging emails back and forth until plans were formed. I had become fluent in Japanese, got a house to call home where I could move in with my mom and sister (we are all very close). Eventually it was agreed that I would assist Hizashi Yamada with teaching English (grammar wise) but I was also going to be the art teachers. I the day came up when I went and met with Nezu and I vividly remember the ending question of the meeting. 

Incase you can see the image: (Nezu: Alright, so all the paperwork is filled out, I do need to ask this, since you’re quirkless and all... How will you defend your students?)

(Me: Ah yes, I thought a good bit about this and I came up with some ideas!)

(Me: I went ahead and got a permit to carry a specialized gun! The gun can shoot tranquilizer darts. The darts can stun most people for roughly one hour. Of course, I can understand if you or others dislike this idea so I also started taking Wing Chun class-)

Yes, I know conceal carry permits don’t really exist like they do in America but it was a dream ^^”

(Nezu: Oh no, you’re fine, just make sure the students don’t see it!

Me: Wha- I mean, of course, but will the guardians of students be okay with this?

Nezu: Ignorance is bliss now have you thought about what your “quirk” should be? From what your references told me, I think “Mom” could be a good one!)

We had spoken about me faking a quirk to see how long it would take anyone (outside of the faculty of course) to notice that I was indeed quirkless.

(Me: ...

Nezu: ... Do you not like “Mom”?)

This then led to us discussing what my “quirk” would be. We had agreed on calling it “Mom” and essentially allowed me to release a caring/nurturing aura that made most people feel drawn to me in the sense of seeing me as a “mother figure”. With it, the “quirk” it allowed me to be in tune with certain individuals that I grow close with and could vaguely sense if they were in great distress.

After this I was brought to the teacher’s lounge and introduced to all the other staff members. When the principal left, I sat and talked with the teachers of 1A, who eventually asked who came up with the fake “quirk” idea, and when I told them the reactions were defiantly mixed...

(Aizawa: You... You’ve got to be kidding me!

Me: I wish I was... 

Hizashi: OMFG! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! HAHAHAHAH-

Me: That makes three of us-

Toshinori : ...

Me: Four of us... ow my ears)

Not too long afterwards, I became an official member of the U.A. staff. Nothing too major happened for a few years had passed, and one winter morning I was getting ready for work when my sister came into my room to do something (idk what) but then asked when I got a tattoo on my back. Confused, I questioned what she was talking about, she took a picture and showed me the image. Sure enough; there was a blue flame on my left shoulder, a purple heart in on my spine, and a red wing on my right shoulder... defiantly looked like a tattoo! 

We did some quick research we learned that at the age of 16, people from the world of quirks would get their soulmate marks. However, all soulmates must reach the age of 16 before the other soulmates get their marks. Another thing we learned was that once the marks appeared, soulmates would be able to talk with each other via their minds. We also learned that it was becoming more and more common for people in our world to get soulmate marks!

With all this information, it started to get me worried. I was 22 (going based off the year), and if one of my soulmates just turned 16 then there was a bit of an age gap. Don’t get me wrong, it could’ve been bigger but it irked me a little. I also realized that the marks were sensitive to certain fabrics, so I had to quickly change the shirt I was wearing.

Soon enough I began to hear my soulmates’ voices, I had two, and they would “talk” often. Apparently they knew each other and already had an established relationship, so I kept quiet for a bit... until one of them made a bad joke that caused me to snort and respond to the terrible joke. Yeah, it freaked them out at first, but it got us talking, and we learned things about each other!

Eventually years flew by, I was an established teacher at UA and I had fallen into a routine. I knew who my soulmates were (Hawks and Dabi (incase it wasn’t painfully obvious)), they didn’t hide their identities very well, and I had somehow managed to keep my identity mostly under wraps (idk how (I’m very talkative) but they always asked questions about me). They would constantly pester me so that they could know more about me, and I would just... keep quiet.

At one point, I had stated that it would probably be better if the two forget about me, saying that I was shoe horned into their relationship because of the worlds colliding. If it hadn’t my mark wouldn’t be on their backs, so I got some medication that would help remove myself from their relationship. It started working, after roughly a year or so (at least going based on the calendars nearby) their marks and voices were starting to fade.

During the year of me teaching class 1A (and protecting my students from various villian attacks) I eventually met them in person (begrudgingly). Thankfully they didn’t seem to recognize my voice, however I did get the idea that could sense something was off cause I noticed they would be nearby. So I got in contact with a close friend of my and called in a favor. We went to school together and were constantly mistaken for couples because I was very affectionate while he would throw hands with someone if they got too close for his liking. So I asked if he would join me for a “date” so that some people would potentially get a hint and leave me alone.

He agreed and came to Japan and we went to the U.A.’s school festival together, we even went the extra mile and got matching fake tattoos so they would act as our “soulmate marks”. Surprisingly it worked- when the students asked who he was I stated he was my date (which wasn’t a lie). Eventually, I had stepped away to go get us something to drink, but when I had returned I saw he was being confronted by two people.

I sighed trying to think of what I could do before getting and idea. I had begun to shake the two soda cans before walking up to the two individuals and getting their attention, once they turned to me, I opened the cans and sprayed it in their faces. They stumbled back in response, obviously caught off guard, I stated that they need to cool down and began to walk away with my friend in tow. I got us something else to drink, and we continued on with the festival.

We enjoyed the rest of the festival and waited to see Eri and Aizawa off, before we left, we were approached by some of my students who wanted to know my relationship with my friends. We looked around, making sure that we were in the clear before confessing that we were just friends. That this was all just a ploy to get some people of my back and to hopefully stop pestering me. We even showed that the tattoos we were wearing were fake, everyone seemed to understand and agreed to keep it under wraps.

Thankfully things seemed to flow smoothly from there on, nothing to crazy happened. However, one day I was doing some training and decided to take a break. I was wearing a simple tanktop and sweats, which wasn’t too bad, since the soulmate mark was almost completely faded at this point, it would take a keen eye to see the remains of the “tattoo”. I was lost in my own world when two soda cans were dropped into my lap, two voice stated that I looked like I needed to cool down.

I had frozen up and slowly looked up to see that both Hawks and Dabi were standing behind me, I gave a weak smile with an equally nervously chuckle. I quickly got up to get away from them, but I was grabbed just as quickly, and thrown to the grown with them still standing over me. I sighed and chuckled once again and held my hands up by head.

The last thing I remember was me saying, “Alright, alright, you caught me, but the mark is almost gone so if you two just waited a little bit longer, you wouldn’t have me as a soulmate anymore. So why on Earth are you two still chasing me?”

Dabi smirked, “Probably cause we wanted you to be our soulmate! Fucking idiot- If you thought we were just going to leave you alone after you stated that we would be better off without you then we have some serious problems.”

Hawks chuckled, “Yeah, but don’t worry, we figured out a way to fix this, it just requires a lot of lovin from us! We gotta get that mark bright and vivid again!”

AND THEN I WOKE UP!

#my art #digital art #MHA #I was so disoriented when I woke up! #I actually talked with my friend about this and he confirmed that he would do this for me #Obviously he'd want compensation but we'd come to an agreement #I'm probably gonna draw some stuff for it #hoping that if I do that it'll get out of my head ;-; #Guess I'm making an OC... that's one way to make a self-insert OC

[justasparkwritings]

Illicit Affairs: A Million Little Times

 Previous: Clandestine Meetings

Pairings: None

Genre: Angst

Ratings: PG17

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Manipulation, Abuse of Power, Swearing, Negotiations and Contracts, Mentions of Alcoholism 

Summary: Namjoon clues his Hyungs into the mess he’s been a part of, and Jungkook grapples with truths he didn’t know existed. 

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

          Namjoon had been given a week to get the members on board before signing their contract. A week before dates for deployment were given. A week to see if they’d have a future after the bouts of military service were completed. He’d given himself two days to go over the changes before speaking with Yoongi and Seokjin, and four days to wrestle the Maknae line and Ho-Seok to agree to signing what remained of their dignities and rights away. He holed himself in his room, coffee and water his only liquids, and buried himself in the contracts. He googled far too many legal terms, and had countless texts asking if you understood what the contract meant. Namjoon was exhausted by day three and filled with dread. Today he would speak to his Hyungs and break the devastating news of their contracts.

           “So, we have to go over our contracts,” Namjoon said. The three men were seated around the dining room table, the Maknae line gone to rehearse. He felt his palms getting clammy as he glanced at the clock, how much time until they came home?  “And for me to share a few things with you.”

           “It’s bad, isn’t it?” Yoongi asked.

           “I’m not sure that even covers it,” Namjoon replied. “Before we start going over the changes, I wanted to share how I’ve been feeling lately, and a few things I haven’t been able to share before.”

           “Ah, problems with the lovely Y/N?” Seokjin asked, eyebrows raised.

           “No, I just, I’ve been feeling really guilty, and like the reason we’re signing everything away is all my fault. Logically, it isn’t, but I’m filled with dread and hate and spite,” Namjoon said, trying his best to maintain eye contact with his hyungs.

           “Oh, what does Bang say?” Yoongi asked.

           “I’m not supposed to talk to you about these things,” Namjoon bowed his head.

           “Why?”

           “In case I inspire you to riot, or to not sign your contract,”

           “What have they been saying to you?”

           “They’ve continued their usual assault of blaming me for Jungkook’s youthful indiscretions, Jimin following suit and the general ‘disfunction’ of the Maknae line. They are constantly telling me ‘you’re responsible for Jungkook, you raised him. You need to make sure he’s falling in line’. They’ve been putting it all on me since the beginning.”

           “But you’re not responsible,” Jin said, confused.

           “We’re all responsible,” Yoongi said. “We’re the eldest, we raised him.”

           “Bang and management think that it’s our collective failing, like we’ve destroyed what could’ve been if Jungkook had, I don’t know, turned out better,” Namjoon explained.

           “That’s fucked up, it’s not our fault, Bang scouted him, Jungkook’s parents started showing him before you signed him, Joon,” Yoongi said.

           “Bang thinks that since I was the reason why Jungkook went with BigHit, I’m liable for his actions,” Namjoon clarified.

           “He’s his own person, can’t he make his own decisions?” Yoongi asked.

           “Nature verses nurture, right? I’m nurture, Yoongi’s nature,” Jin said pointing between the two of them.

           “And, I’ve just been feeling really guilty, like everything with Jungkook, him signing up, him signing his life away, is all my fault. It’s my fault you guys are losing your rights to everything you create… It’s all because of me, and I don’t know how to share that burden.”

           “You’re not responsible, we all made a decision,” Jin said.

           “We’re all responsible for our own actions,” Yoongi agreed.

           “Yes, but I signed the first contract,” Namjoon said.

           “Namjoon, we were kids.”

           “I have these meetings with them, Bang and the lawyers, and all we do is discuss the problems with Jungkook, the ways he’s being disrespectful for ruining the brand. They give me a fucking list of problems and tell me to fix it, or give me tasks to do to aid in his development,” Namjoon looks at his hyungs, eyes tired.

           “What?” They said in unison.

           “They show up with slide shows and exhibit after exhibit of what he’s doing wrong, and then say I have to address it with him, I have to manage it. They teach me how to, what to say, what to do, and then they blame me when it fails,” Namjoon could feel the frustrated tears building.

           “They’re convincing you that you’re the problem, Namjoon,” Yoongi stated.

           “You haven’t ruined him,” Jin agreed.

“The tattoos, his hair, how he’s refusing to participate in videos or have a positive attitude in filming, he’s representing the brand negatively, he’s encouraging an uprising with the Maknae, the growing alcoholism that he can’t seem to get a grip on,” Namjoon listed.

           “They have presentations?” Seokjin couldn’t wrap his head around it.

           “Yes,” Namjoon reiterated.

           “How often is this?” Yoongi was curious, was this normal? Did the Maknae have meetings about them?  

           “At first, it was every two weeks, it’s slowed down has he’s gotten older, but on average about once a month,” Namjoon shrugged, the meetings had become so normal he’d forgotten that they weren’t.

           “You’ve been having meetings about Jungkook, regularly, for a decade?” Yoongi was floored.

           “I’ve had them,” Jin said, “Not that frequently, but a few times.”

           “Why the fuck haven’t I- you know, I understand why,” Yoongi said. “So, you’ve been controlling Jungkook, for a decade?”

           “I’m not controlling him, I’m guiding him,” Namjoon snapped, his tone harsher than intended.

           “Do you know what his contract says?” Jin asked.

           “All of your contracts say the same thing, more or less, with the exception of this year. This year, they are different,”

           “Does he know?” Yoongi asked.

           “About the meetings? No,” Namjoon and Jin shook their heads simultaneously.

           “Mm,” Yoongi nodded.

           “I’m sorry they’ve been putting this on you for years, why didn’t you come to us sooner?” Seokjin asked. “I’m the eldest, this is my responsibility too.”

           “I’m not allowed to,” Namjoon whispered, ashamed he’d believed the unproven lies he’d been told.

           “Allowed to?” Yoongi laughed, the shock echoing in the trilled notes.

           “Yes, it’s a condition of my contract,” Namjoon mumbled.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” Yoongi said, laugh cut short by sheer awe.

           “No, it’s been in my contract for years, this is the first time it hasn’t been,” Namjoon took note of the absence, asking you if he’d read the pages right. They hadn’t included their airtight secrecy clause, not in the mark up, and they never forgot to put it in the mark up.  

           “Namjoon, what if they find out?” Jin inquired.

           “We’re supposed to be discussing the new contract, this is part of that discussion because I am at my breaking point.”

           “You aren’t responsible for what Jungkook decides to do,” Yoongi said, “None of us are.”

           “It’s my fault he’s here, that he’s in BTS, that he doesn’t have a life or a chance at a future. He’s working himself to the bone, he’s drinking all the time, he’s burning himself out before his career beats him to it.”

           “How is that your fault?” Yoongi was growing tired of the narrative Namjoon was spinning.

           “I am the reason he’s in BTS,” Namjoon repeated for what felt like the thousandth time.

           “You’re never going to move past this, are you?” Yoongi asked.

           “I’m trying to,” Namjoon felt defeated.

           “You have to relinquish the guilt,” Seokjin said. “Namjoon, we’re all responsible for each other and ourselves.”

           “And ARMY,” Yoongi added.

           “I just,” Namjoon sighed, wiping tears from his cherub cheeks. “There are things you will never know, and I just needed to share part of the burden.”

           “Share more often, we’re here, we’ll talk to Jungkookie about his behavior,” Seokjin said.

           “The drinking is,” Namjoon shook his head, unable to find the words to start the conversation.

           “When we’re gone, do you think he-” Jin started.

           “He has to, he fucking has too,” Yoongi said.

           They didn’t broach the topic of things they would never know. The strain it had put on Namjoon, on his voice as the words came out, indicated that Seokjin and Yoongi were treading in dangerous waters, but they didn’t know who or what to be afraid of.

           “Should we talk about the contract?” Namjoon offered.

           The hyungs nodded, and after he wiped his eyes, Namjoon grabbed his folder. He slid the copy of their new contract to them, tabs still in place, additional ones with notes he’d made sticking out, making it look like Seokjin in Subway Olympics.  

           “Why did they make clarifications on who we can date?” Yoongi questioned.

           “Since when did they know who preferred who?” Seokjin asked.

           “That’s not the worst part,” Namjoon said. He waited with bated breath, for the moment he knew was coming.

           Yards away, Jungkook stood silently by the entrance to the kitchen, back against the wall, breath held. He was intent on eavesdropping, hearing as much as he could from his hyungs to understand what they were talking about. It didn’t take long to figure out that he was the reason they were meeting, and that he had been the subject of innumerable meetings at headquarters that Namjoon had been forced to attend. Namjoon had made decisions on his behalf, he always did. Jungkook felt the rage that’d been building over the last decade start to take shape, and instead of doing the rational thing, he did what he wanted: he left to get drunk.

           “This contract is brutal,” Seokjin said.

           “I don’t think we can fix it,” Namjoon replied.

           “Can we get outside council? A lawyer not tied to Big Hit?”

           “No, I’ve looked into it, even with our finances being independent, there’s no way we can track that Bang won’t hear about it.”

           “Can we get Jin’s dad’s lawyers to look at it?”

           “We could try, but I’ve got the only copy of the new contract, it can’t be copied, I’m on strict orders to share it with you and return it to Bang,”

           “My dad’s team will take a look, for sure,” Seokjin responded. “When do we have to sign?”

           “Four days,” Namjoon informed them.

           “Aye! So short!” Jin called.

           “It took me two days to look through all of it,” Namjoon said.

           “Did you talk to her about it?” Jin wondered.            

           “Yeah, I did.” Namjoon responded.

           “What’d she say?” He asked.

           Namjoon preferred not to talk about his relationship, mostly because he felt guilty that he was allowed to have one while the bandmembers weren’t. His relationship had been a test, to see if it was possible for an Idol to be in a committed relationship. You told Namjoon the only reason they agreed to an addendum in his contract was because you lived stateside, hours away, and he couldn’t see you often. If management thought you’d be seen together, or be exposed in anyway, it would’ve put a kibosh on the entire relationship. As it stood, you were years into being in love, blissfully so, and no one else in BTS was reaping the benefits of your success.

           “She told me to talk to you,” Namjoon wasn’t about to slip that he’d had your dad look at the papers.

           “I can drive this to my dad’s office now, is there anything else we need to discuss?” Seokjin asked, setting his phone down.

           “I don’t know how to present this to everyone else, and I don’t know what we do if we find lawyers who will represent us in our negotiations,” Namjoon said getting back to business.

           “What can we negotiate in this contract?” Yoongi asked.

           “I think we can come out swinging against the percentage for writers and producers, and we can try to negotiate a change in their ‘in perpetuity’ clause in terms of ownership,” Namjoon said, offering the alternatives he’d been working on.

           “We could argue that we want ownership of everything we make going forward?” Yoongi suggested.

           “What do we have to leverage?” Seokjin asked.

           “That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Namjoon said.

           “We can offer Jungkook up as a sacrifice,” Yoongi chuckled. “Maybe send Jimin too.”

           “Maybe we discuss brand deals? Or give them a bigger cut of something?” Jin offered.

           “Trade money for artistic license?” Yoongi clarified.

           “Yes, they’re not going to budge on the relationships, but if we offer money, instead of their ten percent we do an additional 5% spilt amongst the seven of us,” Namjoon said, setting his pencil down and staring at the number in his notes.

           “Would that be enough?” Jin asked.

           “We could say max 10% split amongst us, which gives them a higher cut of profits,” Yoongi responded.

           “We could argue that without us, they won’t be bringing in nearly the same amount, as a company they’d take a huge hit without us,” Jin suggested.

           “Wouldn’t the economy also suffer? Or would they use our catalogue?” Yoongi asked.

           “They’re going to want blood,” Namjoon whispered, ignoring the questions of his hyungs.

           “Well Jungkook’s one drink away from spilling it all over a sidewalk, so,” Yoongi shrugged.

           Across town, in a dive bar that Jungkook had never been to, he sat, drink in hand, glass nearly empty. He’d made a habit of frequenting dives far enough out of town that no one he knew would find him, but close enough that when he was obliterated, he didn’t have to wait impatiently in his chauffeured car to drive him an hour home. He was on his second double on the rocks, choosing to nurse this one instead of chugging it. He kept his notepad near him, pen waiting for him to pick up and start writing whatever drunken thoughts he had. Jungkook would rather swallow his pride before he ever read back what he wrote. He didn’t know if it was healthy or the path to ruin, but he wrote the same old swan song, every damn time. He convinced himself it would be helpful for his writing, or maybe if he ever went to talk to someone about his life, or wrote a memoir, he’d have these. He couldn’t admit that drunk ramblings of a crumbling K-Pop star were nothing more than that.

           As he nursed his drink, he repeated the mantra he’d perfected: this time would be different. For the first time in months, he believed it. Today he had proof of his deepest fears. Namjoon was conspiring against him, saying it was in his best interest while steering him towards a full psychological breakdown. Namjoon had told the truth to his hyungs, but to Jungkook, he’d continue to lie, and lie and lie, a million times.

Next: Show Their Truth

#BTS #BTS fanfic #BTS fanfiction #BTS fan fiction #BTS drabble #illicit affairs #folklore #jeon jungkook #Jungkook #jk #kim namjoon #Kim Namjoon / You #RM / You #kim namjoon / rm #RM #seokjin #kim seokjin #Jin #BTS seokjin #BTS namjoon #BTS jungkook #yoongi #Yoongi min #min yoongi #suga #BTS suga #management #big hit #grammys #grammy nominations

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

20. Part 2

I didn’t account for how beautiful Robyn would look to be a bride, I have seen Robyn in many pieces of clothing, in many dresses she has worn and many emotions, but I didn’t account to see Robyn for the first time on our wedding day, her glow is different, and her aura is different. The look of relief, the look of happiness, the happiness is shine to me, I didn’t account for it and the emotion just hit. Putting my head down as a small sob left my lips, I didn’t want to cry on this day because it’s a beautiful day for us, lifting my head up looking up to the sky “oh my god” I said to myself, she is really marrying me and it is happening. Looking back down at Robyn, she is much closer to me now and I can see every detail of her, I had to take my shades off because they were steaming up, but I wanted to hide behind these shades. Wiping the tears quickly, looking down feeling someone trying to take my shades from me, and it was Royalty “oh my god, that’s my wife” placing my hands over my face, I got to gather myself “aw Chris” hearing Tina say, moving my hands back “I’m ok” Robyn is slightly laughing at me but she seems so shy “you look so beautiful what the fuck, I didn’t expect this. I have seen you in every dress, every red carpet event but this, yo. Nobody can amount to this, you look so beautiful” Robyn put her head down “thank you” her voice broke “no, don’t you cry”  I said, Robyn looked up at me “this is your fault” Mel side eyed me “stop it you two, after this you can cry all you both want” staring at her strapless corset dress “y’all really got this dress within those days?” I said “I lost my hair fixing this dress” Jahleel said, I laughed because he already bald “it’s amazing, you look breath-taking” the shades of nude on the dress “you look handsome, I am pleased with Ja” Robyn said and blushed, she is shy with me which I didn’t want because she is never this shy “those are Swarovski crystals on that dress, you better add that on Dennis. Does this dress bother you? It’s Swarovski crystals girl” Jahleel soar and made Robyn laughed “Ja, you are so dumb. Please” we all laughed at him “it’s what you deserve” I said smirking at her.

We have been fussing so much that we haven’t even let the registrar say anything, he seems like a very nice man he is just smiling at us both “ready?” he said, I like his accent. Turning to him, sighing out heavily “Long before you found each other in this lifetime, your souls burned brightly as one in the heavens. In this lifetime, you have both grown into bright beacons of light that have gained strength and wisdom through your many travels and experiences. Nevertheless, as it was written in the stars, these beacons called out to each other in the darkness. Together you stand before us prepared to reunite your soul’s by re-joining your individual beacons of light back to their original glorious flame. A flame of such magnitude that not even death will extinguish it. We celebrate with you” putting my head down smiling “Christopher Brown and Robyn Fenty give and receive these rings as demonstrations of their vows to make their life one, to work at all times to create a love that is whole and unbroken, and to love each other without end. Now turn to each other and read your vows” I ain’t even done any vows, I mean why do I need too. Turning to Robyn we both just laughed “I would say ladies first but I just want to go first but I ain’t written no vows, the reason is because I have known this woman near all my life so why do I need to do that” I chuckled “I love you Robyn, I love you a whole lot. I spent years seeing my future wife in every possible way. Dressed for the gym or a night out, comfy couch clothes or boss lady business attire. We were always on and off, but I have always been there watching you, I’ve seen you laugh and cry. I’ve admired your competitive side, organizational side, comforting side, nurturing side. I’ve seen you at your most vulnerable and at your strongest. And the private moments that nobody knows about, we fell in love being dumb teenagers, and the thing is yes I saw you and I was like wow your beautiful, but it’s just deeper than that now, and I am so lucky to have you, you fill that loneliness. I will never let you down Robyn, I am yours and I can’t wait to live on some farm and just grow old together” putting my head down “I always thought I would be alone and just have nothing you know, it’s hard to be at this point and to be at the point in my life where I didn’t know what day it was” lifting my head up trying to hold back my tears “I love you Robyn and I always did, I just messed up and I lost you” Robyn nodded her head “stop it” she said in a whisper “I don’t deserve you” that is the truth “I want to say my vows, stop it” Robyn said.

Robyn took in a deep breath “we are so alike, I didn’t write anything either but” she breathed out “ok, so yes. Chris” Robyn’ voice jerked “ugh, you’re so annoying” she said trying to gather herself “I love you so much, I tried to hide it. No matter how much I try to cover this emotion you bring it forward, to the world I am Rihanna, boss lady. And here with you I am Robyn, you make me feel so whole, so wanted. It was so hard for me because I felt you, I always felt the sadness. I always checked on you from afar, but I was scared, nobody understands our love because it’s the purest and rarest love we hold that it is dangerous. I have done so much in life and this has to be the best day of my life, I didn’t think I would ever have this moment with you, I get to finally have you. You’re finally mine and there has been so much heartache between us but it was never us, it was the universe breaking us apart. And I see it, I see it all. I will protect you Chris, this journey between us, I am going to make sure I am there for you, I will not let you down, which I know I have. I will make you shine with me, just like you won’t let me down, I won’t either” smiling at her “we been through a lot” I said “we have” Robyn said in a whisper “place the ring bride’s finger and state your pledge to her, repeating after me. This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” the registrar said, digging into my pocket. Opening the box and getting the ring out “oh my god, Chris” Robyn said, that is a good sign “This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” I said as I placed it on her finger “that is beautiful, oh my god. I am shook right now” I grinned; this is perfect that she likes it “and the same for the groom” Robyn looked at Mel “I am trying to save my make up here, y’all got me crying here” Mel is crying a lot, actually they all are besides Royalty, she is just smiling. Winking at her, turning back to Robyn. Looking down at the diamond band “you remember my ring size? I mean you remember my suit size so you should do” it’s a nice band actually “This ring I give as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love” Robyn said as she placed the ring on my finger, I smiled so wide, my heart feel so overjoyed “I now pronounce you husband and wife” he said “wow, really?” I said, they all cheered “you may now kiss the bride” this doesn’t feel real at all “I love you” leaning down to kiss my wife now, pressing a kiss to her lips.

I chuckled as I clapped myself, I think it’s been a long time coming for us and it’s happened “that’s my wife now! Look how beautiful she is” Royalty ran at me, hugging onto my legs “you happy for me?” looking down at her “yes, you cry lots. Cry baby” I snorted laughing “you teasing me now? Wow!” I spat “you say it to me all of the time, don’t lie. Rihanna is so pretty” she said in a whisper “I know, and that is my wife” I said back “my step mommy too” she giggled “hold off on that baby” rubbing her back “you’re beautiful too, I have two beautiful ladies” my daughter is so cute “brother in law now, come on. Bring it in, welcome to the Bajan family” I cooed out hugging her “that sounds scary to be honest, I still can’t used to the Bajan family” Mel squeezed me close “you will, you married into the family now so we going to teach you the Bajan way of life” I grinned “well, I can’t welcome you to the Bajan family but Tina and I can welcome you to the Fenty family, you can now get discount and makeup. I am joking come on” Jahleel hugged me “if like I would wear Fenty” I joked “be quiet, you will do anything for her” he is right “let Chris go we need to take some pictures, if we can all gather” Dennis said, here he goes with the photoshoot. Dennis’ pictures are great but there is a lot of standing around and waiting.

I got to admit, Robyn has such a good team, they are loyal. I look around and I just think if I were to have my people here, how negative they would be. How rude they may have been, they would be talking in my ear about everything. Even Mijo may have been negative and say do I want to go back to that, Mijo thinks Robyn and I are no good and he felt that when I went to the party, that she moved on. He came because he didn’t want me to look stupid but I think I don’t have a person that would be supportive of this like these, it does make me sad, I mean it is the same with Robyn but not as much as I have it “we have something to say!” Jahleel got up from his seat “hey bitches, so I just wanted to say how beautiful we all look, I mean of course I look the best, but I am just so emotional about all of this. I am just over the moon for you both, so we collectively wanted to get you both time alone because one, I don’t want to hear you both having constant sex” Mel hit Jahleel’ arm “oh there is a child I mean constant talking, you know adults talk at night. So anyways!” he shouted “back to the subject at hand, so we put a little something together and got you an overwater bungalow, we have sorted it out for the night for you both. It’s under Jahleel and we got a driver to take you both, signed NDA everything, we all put in together so you both can have a little fun” Jahleel winked, I chuckled “I have blue balls so you know that is a gift I needed to be honest” I really do have blue balls “hopefully Robyn won’t complain she is tired and she just sleeps, cause her ass is lazy as fuck now” I snorted “she ain’t sleeping, deadass” placing my arm behind Robyn’ chair “whatever, you try being pregnant” looking over at Robyn “you try walking around with blue balls” I retorted “what is blue balls?” Royalty asked, I need to remember I have my daughter here “it’s just something I have in my pocket, it holds sentimental value to me. Robyn sometimes holds them” I said trying to hold a straight face “you are bad, stop it” Mel said, clearing my throat “I am joking so anyways, thank you so much me for doing that for us but I need to be here for Royalty, her mother will kill me” looking at Roro “I can be good” she said “we will all look after her, she will be ok. It will be one night” I am unsure because honestly, if anything happens and I was busy having sex then I will hate myself for it “dad I am grown! Leave me alone” I gasped “wow, but you can’t like go out anywhere, you must stay with these four. You can’t do anything stupid, if you’re scared then you’re on your own, you know that right?” I don’t want her being sad “well you scaring her does not help now does it, Chris if she is scared I am literally here. I do give good hugs too” Mel said, I sighed out “don’t do anything, you’re my responsibility. You ring your mom before you go to sleep and you do it privately, you don’t mention anything. If she asks where I am, say I am asleep. You ring her when you wake up also” Royalty mean mugged me “I am not a baby” she really thinks she is grown “you are actually so just listen to me” patting her head.

Rubbing my chin laughing “you both legit didn’t even pick out a first dance song?” Tina asked, looking at Robyn “we didn’t talk about it, to be honest there is a lot going on and we never discussed it” is this a bad thing “right, this dance is happening!! I will pick a song out” Tina walked off “were we supposed to do such a thing? Like what dance do we do? Cause I know you can’t dance” Robyn hit my arm “be quiet, I can when I want too. Not going to lie, I am feeling a little shy to be doing this” frowning at her “don’t be shy, it’s me. I mean come on” I said a little shocked she said that “this bump, it’s just in the way now” shaking my head laughing, I didn’t think Robyn would think that but she has been a little shy to be honest “so because dumb and dumber haven’t picked a song we are just picking, well I will picked and honestly, I think I picked well. Don’t kill me Rih” Tina said “hey little lady, you want to be my dance partner after them? Well you only have me so you out of choices” Jahleel said “nobody wants to dance with you Jahleel” I said laughing, feeling Robyn’ hand on my lap “mhmm” looking over at her “I love you” she held my hand “I love you too” smiling at her “come on you two!” Tina said, getting up from the chair sighing out “Shall we?” holding out my hand to Robyn, she took my hand and let me her to the space “oh god not this song” Robyn said, hearing Adele – One and Only playing. I held Robyn by the waist and pulled her close to me, as close I could anyways. her hands resting on my chest, biting my bottom lip smiling at Robyn “I love you Robyn Rihanna Fenty Brown” resting my forehead against hers.

Robyn smiled faintly “this is the calmest I have ever seen you, you’re always so hyper” Robyn is right “well I need to be good” I said “I genuinely hate Tina, I used to play this song in a depressive state, but this time it’s different. I have you with me now” nodding my head “I am sorry” I apologised, Robyn sobbed out “don’t, it’s ok. I messed up too, we just prolonged the inevitable. We wasted years and I hate this for us. I love you so much Chris and I was so scared, scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, you know. But this, this moment is what I have always wanted for us, I hate we have to be pushed back, that we have to hide but I am happy” nodding my head “if the baby wasn’t mine, I don’t know what I would be like. Like it would have happened eventually but it’s you Robyn” Robyn nodded her head “it’s a new beginning for us Chris, for me. This is a new chapter in my life, and I can’t wait” resting the side of my head with hers, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. This is emotional, not going to lie “awww look at these two!” Jahleel said, moving my head back seeing Jahleel and my daughter “she is taking over” I laughed out at Royalty taking over the dance “can I?” I asked Robyn “oh yes, let’s swap baldie” Robyn said to Jahleel “come here you” Royalty giggled and then hugged my waist “awww that’s not how the dance works but I don’t mind this” I love her like crazy, she is forever wanting to be around me.

I lowkey know Robyn is feeling tired, but she is going to need to get over it because I want my dick sucked, my face rode and her legs wrapped around my neck “long day Dennis, thank you” I said to him, wrapping my arms around Royalty “I am so excited to edit these pictures, the video. They are amazing, the pictures are authentic, and Royalty asked me to send her picture. I promise I will” what is my daughter like “I am glad to be out of the dress, sorry. I had to come out of it, it weighed me down a little” getting up from the floor “it’s ok, you look beautiful either way. So Royalty, you listen to them ok?” Royalty nodded her head “Rihanna, can I have a hug?” Royalty asked “sure, Mel! Bring my back down please too” Robyn made it down to the last step “come here then” Robyn waved her over “you don’t mind?” Royalty asked “no, why would I mind. Come here” Royalty shyly went over to Robyn; she wasn’t shy with hugging her bump “can you feel the baby? Is she kicking?” smiling at them both, she gasped “I can feel her!” she spat “yeah, she is always moving around. Hopefully kick Chris away from me” I grinned at her “have fun riri” my daughter’ refusal to just say Robyn “I will, thank you. We will see you tomorrow” I finally get Robyn alone, I cannot wait.

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