#she will already be taller than her sister shortly after the fall

[aonungslvr]

he’s…what?

pairing ; jealous! ao’nung x f!sully! reader

taggings ; 🪽⭐️🐚

summary ; ao’nung quickly falls for the sully sister after she arrives in his village, but who is this boy she keeps talking about?

3.1k words

when you and your family had first arrived in awa’atlu you hated it. the sound of ilu’s chirping and waves thrashing against the sand wasn’t normal. the smell of salt was disgusting. there were no trees to shield you from the suns rays or give you coverage when you wanted to be alone. no grass or cool dirt to dig your feet into.

this wasn’t your home; you belong in the forest. you had been chased out of your home after having a knife held to your throat by sky demons; obviously you weren’t happy to be here.

your nerves certainly were not eased when the tsahík of the metkayina, ronal, had grabbed your four-fingered hand to show the crowd. you were instantly met with hisses and snarls from the lighter blue clan. you gently trembled at her touch, less from fear and more from annoyance, and continued staring into the sand, trying to dig your feet into it like dirt. it was too hot; this wasn’t your dirt. your mother intervened, seeing your discomfort, and held you to her; raising her fangs towards the tsahìk. your father entered himself in hopes of calming the situation down, showing the clan his own 4 fingered hand.

when ronal had moved on and the attention focused on the leaders of the metkayina, you glanced up, seeing the ocean clan more clearly this time. you had noticed a girl and two boys closer to your family than the others; they looked around your age. the female was eyeing your youngest brother before her vision shifted towards you. she offered you a warm smile along with a small wave. you looked her up and down before giving her your own smile and wave, though you lowered your hand as you could tell she was now focused on your extra finger.

you looked beside her to see a taller boy with a bun, he had been the one to make fun of your brothers thin tails, the tail you all shared. you sighed and continued staring at the teen, for some reason you couldn’t stop. that was proved false when the boy looked your way, you diverted your eyes back to the sand as fast as you could. you hadn’t been able to see it, but the teal na’vi eyed you up and down silently. his shorter friend slapped his arm and laughed at him, whispering something you couldn’t quite pick up.

apparently whatever your parents and the leaders were talking about had been concluded. you heard the olo’keytans stern and loud voice speak out among the crowd, before he faced your family directly and spoke a bit softer.

“my son ao’nung, and my daughter tsireya will show you our ways.”

ao’nung and tsireya. the boy you had stared at spoke up in disagreement, leading you to his name being ao’nung, as well as him being the chiefs son. the kind girl had also made herself to be tsireya when she guided your family to your new home.

you walked among kiri, trailing shortly behind her. you followed tsireya and ao’nung had followed from behind you all, paired with his little friend.

“i do not like it here kiri.” you spoke as you looked up to face her.

she scoffed in return, “yeah me neither.”

“these are ilu, if you want to live here, you have to ride.”

you and your siblings were all hip length deep in the sea, surrounded by multiple swimming animals, they were called ilu. they reminded you of your ikran.

the ocean siblings had been tasked with training you all to learn how to survive within their clan, and it was time to tame your animal.

tsireya first helped lo’ak, you already knew why. it was quite obvious. he had settled onto the creatures back and held onto the saddle. he made tsaheylu with the marine animal and she took off. you watched as your brother had tried to hold on as best he could but was ripped off due to the speed and pressure that being underwater included.

he had failed miserably and tsireya continued to guide him, but you couldn’t all wait for him. (you’d be there for years.)

ao’nung had invited you over a few feet to show you how to get your own ilu. he explained the process just as tsireya had. you mounted the animal and waited for instruction.

“hold here, when you make the bond, you need to think with her. not against her. let her guide you.”

after seeing what happened with lo’ak, you figured that was a load of bullshit and you would be swept away too. you gripped on the saddle with one hand and grabbed your braid with the other.

“your position is wrong.”

the blue teen pushed your back down and shifted your legs. the feeling was different, the extra skin on his arms were odd. your heartbeat quickened for a moment and the ilu beneath you flapped her fins.

“there. remember, bond gentle.”

you connected your kuru with the creature, and took off. you panicked for a little until you were reminded with how dramatic lo’ak is. he had made this look like such a hard task, it really wasn’t too bad. the water pressure threatened you but you were able to manage. you tightened your grip and squeezed your eyes shut. as you felt the tide flow with you, you slowly opened your eyes. you instructed your ilu to slow it down, which she listened too.

the sea wasn’t horrible. there were so many new creatures you had never even known about. you looked among the fish and corals as you smiled at the sight. feeling your chest begin to tighten, you and your ilu went back up to the surface, swimming closer to where you had left the others.

tuk was the first to congratulate her big sister, “that was so cool (y/n)!”

“yeah way better then lo’ak”, laughed your eldest brother, neteyam.

“ok bro, who invited toruk makto?” your youngest brother was always the jokester, and you laughed at the reference.

looking back at your mentor, you noticed ao’nung hadn’t held any malice or laughter towards you, you took that as a good sign.

throughout the training of your family, you had sectioned off into unofficial groups. tsireya tended to assist lo’ak and tuk, while ao’nung helped neteyam, kiri, and you. ao’nung had tried selling you off to tsireya because he was upset he had to deal with three sully’s while his sister only had two. she had argued that having tuk was basically like having two in one, and she stood with her statement.

with annoyance, he taught you what you all needed to know to adjust to the ocean. most of his lessons were filled with sighs and reprimands when someone would do something wrong, but that had started to fade lately.

“what do you mean ao’nung is nicer? no he isn’t? he still makes fun of us during training…”

oh.

it had only began to fade for you.

well this was fine, neteyam was probably just exaggerating. after all, he was certainly a charmer yesterday.

. . .

“you are not breathing right.”

you and ao’nung sat on a jagged rock in the middle of the reef, he was giving you a private lesson on holding your breath because apparently you were falling behind. (not true.)

you looked at him as he demonstrated how to intake the air and hold it, but it just looked like normal breathing. you tried to repeat what he did but it still wasn’t good enough for him.

“what are you even doing? are you even breathing?”

you rolled your eyes and looked away from the teal teenager, he was so dramatic.

“pay attention to me forest girl,” he redirected your face back towards his.

he placed one of his wide hands on your smaller diaphragm and the other where your heart layed.

you panicked at the sudden contact and prayed he couldn’t feel your heartbeat pick up beneath his touch.

“eywa please i never ask for anyth-“

“your heartbeat is fast. that’s why you cannot breathe.”

thanks great mother.

despite the metkayina’s teasing, he had genuinely seemed to adjust to you. you two spent more one on one training together and even hung out when it wasn’t time to train.

it was nearing eclipse when ao’nung had come to your families marui, unfortunately, your father had noticed him first.

“what are ya’ doin’ here boy.”

the shorter navi hesitated for a moment until he was able to speak up,

“i’m- i’m here for (y/n.) sir.”

your father looked him up and down with a stern look on his face. ao’nung was convinced he would be thrown outside by toruk makto himself. jake grunted and leaded down into your new friends face.

“she’s back by 10 before eclipse. a second after and i’ll cut your tail off. she comes back with even a hint of your touch on her i’ll drag you deep into the ocean by your braid and leave you there. understood?”

“yeah- got it.”

“i said understood.”

“uh-understood sir!”

your dad sighed before finally alerting you of the conversation,

“(y/n!) visitor!”

you showed up at the door as your father was walking away, and was greeted with the sight of ao’nung shaking in the sand.

“hey ao’nung! you alright?”

he eyed the exit, indicating you to leave with him. once you step out he grabbed your thinner arm and ran towards the shore, looking back for the deadly gaze of jake sully.

“oh my god (y/n) why didn’t you tell me your dad is fucking terrifying.”

you giggled and brought your hand to your lips, trying to conceal it.

“whatever, no big deal, follow me.”

despite his ego being damaged, he led you along the shore, pointing out some shells he though you would like on the way. you two eventually made it to the more foresty part of his island, farther from the clan.

you were unaware this area existed and instantly fell in love. it had been months since you had seen a tree. the sight reminded you of your home and it brought you so much happiness. you glanced at the back of ao’nungs head as you continued to follow him where he led. you two made it to a part of the small forest that opened out into the beach. you could see the sunset and water clashing onto the sand all from behind a tree.

“ao’nung! this is so beautiful, it’s just like the forest!”

“well yeah, that’s what i was hoping for..”

he was hiding his flushed face but you could hear the smile he was trying to hold back.

“come!”

you grabbed his arm towards a tree you deemed was tall and had enough branches. effortlessly, you climbed up the tree. you jumped and stood on branches, easily making it to the high thin branch you wanted. you had planted your left leg and arms on the branch as your right leg hung down.

the lighter blue na’vi watched you and his mouth dropped open. he had made fun of your family for being poor divers, but god you were good at climbing. him and his friends would break the branches if they were to ever try that.

“get up here!”

“yeah…i don’t think so.”

you quickly remembered you were among the sea people now, and their bodies simply weren’t built for climbing like you were.

“ah right.”

you hopped down onto a lower branch then the ground, the teen boy staring in aw yet again. you ran up to him and pulled him into a hug while giggling.

“thank you ao’nung, really. this was great”

he scoffed in embarrassment and rubbed his neck,

“yeah, we’ll there’s actually one more thing. i was just wondering if you’d l-“

you cut him off before he could finish his question.

“this is just like what txäol would show me!”

what.

ever since the first mention of this “txäol” they kept coming.

no matter how many times ao’nung tried to get you to like him more, it always ended up as a talk about txäol.

“ao’nung this necklace is so pretty! it looks like the one txäol gave me!”

“txäol used to say that! he’s super funny.”

“oh eywa this shell would look great next to the flowers txäol gave me!”

you were beyond oblivious at the way ao’nungs eye would twitch when you brought up your best friend from back in the forest.

it was a comment on the gifts he’s given you, or the stories he used to tell you, or sometimes you would show the metkayina boy some things the omatikayan gave you before you left the forest.

ao’nung raised his concerns with tsireya first. she was pretty close to you, so he thought she might have some intel.

. . .

tsireya automatically burst out laughing when her brother questioned her.

“your-your joking right? sweet eywa, your so funny! your helpless brother- truly!”

“what- tsireya what are you talking about?! who is txäol?!”

“oh-oh my eywa i cant-“ she continued laughing.

“is he her boyfriend?!”

this just caused tsireya to start laughing again. she gripped her stomach and bent over, unable to stop the giggles that flowed out of her.

“whatever- your never any help! i’ll just ask her!”

and so that’s what he did.

the teal teenager approached you while you were mounting your ilu, getting ready to go hunting.

“(y/n)!”

you turned your head to the sound of your name and saw ao’nung riding his own ilu towards you.

“oh- hey! did you need anything? i was just about to head out.

he had been torturing himself over this question for so long he just cut to the point.

“is txäol your boyfriend?!”

you paused and had no words. your ilu had picked up on your shock and had even dropped her own jaw.

“t-txäol? h-“

you were cut off by the reef na’vi.

“if he is- just tell me. i understand if you have a lover back home that you can’t forget about. all i’m asking is you let me know!”

“he’s n-“ you tried to speak before you were interrupted again.

“i just can’t deal with the not knowing! i see you, (y/n), and i need to know if you see me too! you talk about this txäol guy all the time, so if your in love with him instead, tell me! i won’t be an-“

“he’s gay!”

oh.

bonus!!

the sky people had finally returned back to their planet, and wouldn’t be coming back this time. this meant your people were safe. you could go back to the forest! back to the forest…

when you first arrived at the reef, all you could think about was going home, and how happy you would be. but now that home was right in front of you, you just couldn’t. not without ao’nung.

you two had recently began courting each other, and had plans of mating once you both completed your rite of passages. you couldn’t leave him behind now. so if you couldn’t leave him behind..why not take him with you!

. . .

you yipped for your ikran, calling her down to the sandy shores.

“seyä! hi girl!” you rubbed her nose and cleaned off some sand off her head.

you mounted seyä and invited ao’nung to do the same.

“no fucking way.”

“she doesn’t bite!”

“yes the fuck she do? look at her!”

“aww you poor thing..is he being mean to you?”

you rubbed your ikrans head and made tsaheylu. she flapped her wings and screeched, scaring the hell out of ao’nung.

“yeah there’s no way i’m going anywhere near that th-“

he was cut off as seyä picked him up under his arms using her claws, flying up in the air. you giggled and grabbed ao’nungs hands, pulling him up behind you on the saddle.

“that wasn’t so bad- right?” you could swore you saw a tear running down his face, but he denies it.

. . .

the fly had taken a few days and you were exhausted, ao’nung had given you company and made sure to hold you extra tight when you were getting tired. if it wasn’t for him stopping you to make you sleep, you probably would’ve flown while sleeping.

after what felt like years, you finally arrived back at the forest. you flew over the trees until you saw the omatikaya people, your people. your smile had began hurting your jaw as you landed your ikran on a tree, hopping off and landing on the branches. you would just jumped right down but you had to help the metkayina.

“here- just..place this foot here. and then this arm right here.”

it took awhile (32 minutes) to get him down around 7 branches. it usually took you a few seconds, but who were you to judge.

he mainly just trailed behind you as you greeted so many friends you had missed. he felt like the outsider now, surrounded by darker blue people with thin limbs. he stayed back until he heard someone scream your name. a boy scream your name.

“(y/n)! oh my eywa- your back!” he ran up to you and embraced you in the tightest hug out of everyone else.

ao’nung looked this guy up and down and frowned at him, about to step in and announce himself as your boyfriend until you spoke up.

“txäol! oh i missed you so much-!”

oh. him. the metkayinas anger was reduced, but still present. this boy was all over you! how could he not be upset? he stepped up closer to you and wrapped his hands around your waist, hugging you from behind.

“oh- txäol meet ao’nung, ao’nung meet txäol!”

txäol raised his nonexistent eyebrows at how the boy hugged you and eyed you. he would definitely need you to tell him about everything he missed.

“i’m txäol, (y/n)’s best friend!”

“ao’nung. her mate.”

you kicked ao’nungs knee, trying to get him to be nicer. he was still jealous and god did it show.

“speaking of mates..” txäol started.

you stared and him and gasped. “your lying.”

“(y/n) meet ityea, my boyfriend.”

a shorter omatikayan male entered from the forest and held txäol’s hand. you screeched. like loud. ikran loud.

“txäol oh my eywa i can’t even- you guys are so cute!!” you hugged your best friend and spun around.

“right?! but no- you guys too! i can’t believe you found someone in another clan- you guys are adorable!!”

ao’nung backed up and grounded himself. right. he was gay.

#aonung #ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x you #ao’nung x sully!reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar x you #co writes !! #this took way too long #i’m sorry #sully!reader #sully daughter

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

Prev

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks 

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 5

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

“Hey, I’m leaving now. Are you there yet?” Lizzie texted shortly after she turned on her car. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Aubrey replied. “Okay, on my way. It won’t get me too long to get there.” She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger side seat and started to drive.

It’s almost lunch time hour, the traffic is getting undeniably more crowded. It’s typical L.A traffic with its uncertainty crowd flow on random parts here and there. While driving Lizzie starts to think about the meeting today. A part of her actually feels bad knowing that you might have heard what she said on the phone. Deep down she knows it’s not your fault to be caught in the middle of this whole matter. The more she thinks about it, the more it triggers her memory that your were actually the girl who smiled nicely to her at the coffee shop who didn’t do anything that made Lizzie get recognized when she was trying to not to be and that was why Lizzie nodded and smiled as an appreciation towards you.

Of course once her common sense slowly starts to get her to think in the right way, her stubbornness quickly erupts and plays with her emotion again. Especially when her memory rewinded the view when your left hand grabbed the pen and signed the contract even after she gave you a cold intimidating statement then it was followed by the memory of all of her conversations with Jane and her mom who hired you without her agreeing to it. It makes her feel that they don’t think she is old enough to deal with this situation. Her anxiety only makes her more emotional in handling this matter and forces her to dislike you even more and to think what she should do to make you quit.

All the thinking while driving clearly makes it feels faster to get to the restaurant where she's meeting Aubrey. She parked her car, then walked into this quiet restaurant. She was greeted by the host then she explained she is meeting her friend here as her green eyes are searching for where Aubrey sits. “Lizzie! Over here!” Aubrey’s voice quickly caught her attention. Lizzie sees her sitting at the table in the patio and walks to her.

“Hey, how are you? It took longer to get here than you thought huh?” She gave Lizzie a hug. “Hey, how are you? Yeah, sorry, I got caught in a little traffic.” Lizzie sighed then she took a seat. The girls order some food and drink to accompany them while they are catching up.

“Sooo, what's up with your text yesterday. What do you want to figure out together with me? From your text, I can feel you were upset.” Aubrey starts the conversation. “Really? You can sense how I feel from my text?” Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, we are best friends, more like a soulmate I think but seriously what’s going on?” She joked around but tried to dig into what's going on at the same time.

Lizzie starts with a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. “Do you remember when I told you that Jane and my mom are thinking of getting me a new personal assistant?”

“Yeah? They still talk about it with you?” Aubrey said as she took a bite of her food.

“Even worse! They hired one already regardless of the fact that I said that I don't need one. I met her this morning. She came by with Mitchel Elrod to sign the contract and everything. Turns out she is his best friend.” Lizzie explained with huge annoyance.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. I got my assistant from his company. Does she know how you feel about this thing?”

“Oh that part, she might have heard what I said when I was talking with you on the phone this morning because I didn’t know that she was sitting in front of me in the waiting room. I felt terrible actually but then in the meeting I was thinking fuck it so I told her bluntly straight to her face that I actually don’t need her and I’m here because I’m forced to give it a try so this better be worth it.” Lizzie put her head to her hands, her thumbs massage her temples a little bit.

Aubrey gasped, “No you did not! Then what did she say?” Aubrey got so invested with what’s going on.

“Nothing really. She just said she hopes I like the way she works. That’s all. I was hoping she would change her mind and say no to work for me after what I said to her, but then she signed everything like she was trying to say “challenge accepted” to me.” Lizzie motions an air quote then takes another sip of her drink to calm herself down. “It’s like a competition to me now. This just made me doesn’t like her more.” She added.

“So I need your help to figure out how to make her quit because the contract said it can be terminated if there is a mutual agreement from both parties. So if one day she says she wants to quit, I will agree to it and boom! Case close!” Lizzie told her idea with confidence.

“Why are you trying so hard anyway? I meant Jane and your mom have a point. She will be very busy, they just want someone to help to provide your needs at work. You're gonna have a few busy years sister with all the upcoming filmings and others. It’s for your own sake I guess.” Aubrey shrugged as she tried to talk Lizzie out.

“Oh my God! Aubrey, you are supposed to be on my side. The problem is my anxiety. It’s hard to adjust with new people. This is also about how they don’t listen to my opinion or what I want. They hired her without finalizing it with me first.” Lizzie explains in frustration.

“It’s also about your ego isn’t it?” Aubrey added as she knows her best friends very well. 

“They know you would still say no even if they asked you before they hired her and honey I really understand your anxiety, I'm so sorry. Okay, I’ll help you. Why don’t you just give her hard times at work? Give her “hell” at work.” She suggested.

“And how do I do that?” Lizzie asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. Just be as bitchy as you can, ask ridiculous things. Make her do stuff that doesn’t make sense. So basically gets on her nerves every single day, I guess. Be difficult, you know what I meant.” Aubrey continues with her suggestions.

“I think you are right! Aubrey you are a genius! Thank you!” 

“What would you do without me?” Aubrey rolls her eyes joking around. “Anyway, what’s her name again? How does she look?” All of this conversation made Aubrey curious and pulled out her phone.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She looks okay and well dressed. A little taller than me. She’s - “ Aubrey all of a sudden cuts her off before she can even finish her sentence. 

“Wait! what?! Y/n Y/L/n?” Aubrey is as surprised as she can be, then looks at her phone and shows it to her confused friend. “Is this her?” Lizzie squints her eyes as she takes a look at the social media account profile Aubrey shows her. “YES! That’s her. Wait, how do you know? Please don’t tell me you know her too.” Lizzie covers her face with both of her hands as a sign of frustration.

“Actually, Yes I know her. I know her from a mutual friend quite a while ago. She also introduced me to Mitchel. I didn’t know she came back to work with him. I haven’t seen her for a while, we just sometimes text each other here and there just to say hi.”

“Aww, she hasn’t really changed. I always like the way she dresses and her good taste of music. Look, isn’t she cute?” Aubrey smirked jokingly as she continued checking Y/n’s social media on her phone and showed it to Lizzie.

“What are you talking about Aubrey? Cute or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset with this whole situation and I already do not like her, besides I don’t date girls. I’m dating Robbie. You know that! So can you focus here please?" Lizzie snapped her finger to regain Aubrey's attention back to the main topic.

“Haha, okay chill. I was just joking because you are so tense right now. You are dating Robbie but it doesn't look or feel like you guys are dating. You both barely spend time together. He is too busy with his band and his tours. You know what? I started to think he dates you just to boost his fame.” Aubrey casually points out her opinion to her best friends.

“Aubrey, I’m here not to talk about my relationship.” Lizzie reminded her why they are there.

“Okay okay!” Aubrey laughed. “Anyway, I don’t think I can help you to give more ideas to annoy y/n at work. I love you but I didn’t know it was Y/n you were talking about. She’s my friend too, I can't do that to her. At least I gave you the idea in the beginning but just considered I never tell you anything. Sorry babe, I hope you understand.”

“That’s too bad but okay, I understand.” She pouted but she can’t complain because at least Aubrey already gave her a little rough idea what to do.

The girls used the chance to also catch up with each other’s life but unfortunately it has to come to an end as one of them has to go home.

“Okay Liz, sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you when I see you, okay. Remember, don’t hate her too much if you don’t want to end up falling for her. Well that was what old people used to say, I think.” Aubrey teased Lizzie while giving her a goodbye hug.

“Aubrey stop! That won’t happen. See you soon. Thanks for the help.” Lizzie hugs her goodbye. Lizzie then got into her car and pulled her phone out.

“Hey Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen. On friday, we are supposed to drive together to my photoshoot location. Meet me at the office at 6 AM. We’ll take your car from there. Oh, don’t forget my coffee. The one I like. It’s on the list.” Lizzie texted Y/n with no signs of compromise in text.

“Hi. Ms. Olsen, I thought the schedule was at 8 AM but okay, I will meet you there at 6 AM on Friday, with your coffee.” Agreeing is all y/n can do. It’s the first day of work anyway, what’s the worst could happen.

Ch. 6

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fluff #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen fluff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #leigh shaw #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen x you #elizabeth olsen imagine #lizzie olsen imagine

[gasolineghuleh]

Brattitude

Commission for @simply-skeletons for a Daddy Dom Aether and a bratty reader!

cw: contains daddy kink, choking, and squirting.

Not SFW below, No minors!

You sigh and stretch, rolling your shoulders and looking along the stretched out dining room table, laden with breakfast foods. Platters of eggs are heaped high alongside plates of bacon and sausage, pitchers of various juices and teas and the occasional scone or biscuit. None of it draws your attention quite as much as the Ghouls, however. The chatter of your fellow Siblings manages to drown out any chance of hearing conversation from the Ghoul table, but you aren’t exactly trying to hear anything— just trying to get his attention. When his pale blue glowing eyes finally turn to you, the zap of sudden attention pierces your core like a lightning bolt. Aether inclines his head towards you gently and mouths a single instruction:

“Eat.” You frown in response, toying with the scrambled eggs on your plate before looking back at him. He’s still watching you, of course, his own piece of semi-raw bacon held tightly between his claws as he waits for you to take a bite. When you shake your head with a smirk, he returns the gesture, inclining his head towards you again. “Now,” he mouths quietly, his tail pointing firmly towards your plate. You can tell that he’s enjoying the game by the way that he’s begun holding himself, subconsciously appearing taller and more in charge than he really is.

No one has noticed your little game besides Rain, sitting directly beside Aether. His eyes move between the two of you as he smiles around his own bites of food, clearly enjoying watching your silent standoff. This only prompts you to push your plate away from yourself and turn your attention to your friends, joining in on their conversation with ease and ignoring your Ghoul for the rest of the meal. When you do finally grab a bite of something to eat, it’s a glazed and sweetened scone rather than something of actual nutritional value. It isn’t until later, when the tables are cleared and everyone is bustling about to leave for their morning activities that you feel Aether’s hand close around your bicep tightly- the points of his claws dig just lightly into your bare arm and you can already feel a thrill going up your spine. 

“Being a bit of a spoiled one this morning, are we?” Aether’s warm voice curls around your senses like heated honey and incense smoke before a ritual and you feel yourself going slightly weak in the knees before you recover— you need to have your wits about you in order for this game to work, after all. It’s not one that you play often with him, but one that you know he enjoys almost as much as you do. After all, he always says he’s attracted to more of a brat than a tamed pet anyway.

“Wouldn’t want you to think you have all of the control, after all.” You’re able to meet his gaze, only slightly narrowed in amusement, before your eyes slide off to the side and spot Rain standing slightly behind him, still clutching his morning protein shake— not doubt full of the nutrients he’ll be needing for the strenuous rhythm practice with Mountain he’ll be heading off to shortly. “Good morning, Rain. How are you?” The Ghoul raises an eyebrow when you address him, inclining his head towards you in a silent greeting.

“Better than you’re going to be by the end of it,” he quips with a grin, finding the straw with his lips quickly and giving Aether a nod. With a loud slurp from the shake he wanders off, tail swishing happily. 

“You’ve given him enough to be pleased about all day. I hope you’re happy.” Aether’s hand tightens dangerously on your arm once more before he lets go, folding his arms as he watches his musical partner sashay through the large doors and into the Abbey proper. “He loves when one of our pets misbehaves. Just makes him brag about his own.” Rain disappears around the corner of the large door to the meeting hall in the direction of the soundproof music rooms and you hold back a snort of laughter, turning your attention back to your own Ghoul. 

“Oh? In that case, yes, I’m very happy.” Your friend calls your name to get your attention, waving you over to them and you nod, beginning to walk away from Aether. Already you can hear his growl of annoyance deep in his chest— it’s been ages since you’ve been bratty with him, and you can tell that the punishment (or perhaps reward) would be worth it… and a long time coming. 

“Hey! I’m not done with you, princess,” Aether says, a warning clear in his voice. Despite your better judgement, you persevere with your plan. You can practically feel the tightly controlled scolding simmering below the surface as he grinds the heel of his foot into the carefully waxed stone floor of the dining hall. “Sister-”

“Turns out I am, though! Catch you later, Aeth.” You give him a small wave and blow him a kiss, practically skipping away to join your friends and leave the dining hall. It’s a beautiful day outside and you all have made plans to spend most of it in the orchard, doing absolutely nothing. 

It’s one of the few days a month where the Siblings in the Abbey are given free reign to do with their time as they please— no lessons, mass, or scheduled events. As you and your small group of friends find a place on the grass to lay down and relax you can hear the shouts of other Siblings running past, playing games or having spirited discussions. Still, your ear is cocked for any sign of Aether or one of his bandmates keeping an eye on you. You know that at least Rain and Mountain will be mostly preoccupied, but Dew has a penchant for chasing his own pets throughout the Abbey gardens on down days. He and Aether often chat about how they enjoy the “prey and predator” feeling that comes with the territory. 

“You know that won’t end well, right?” your friend asks with a groan as she lays down in the grass beside you. Jolted out of your thoughts of being chased by Aether through the surrounding woods, you snap your focus back to your friends. You shrug as best as you can and tuck your arms under your head, content to watch the clouds roll by in puffy formations as you try to shake off the sudden urge to run that’s coursing through your legs like lightning. 

“I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. I won’t push him too far,” you explain. One of your friends grumbles in agreement, muttering something about how he’s currently tied up with Dew. Those who have an arrangement with their Ghouls know how far to take things when asked. The sun warms your bones and it doesn’t take long before it feels like you’re practically melting into the Earth. You’re drawn from your reverie when your friend snaps her hand in front of you again, attempting to get your attention. “What? What?” 

“I said, ‘he’s looking for you’. Look.” She points in a general direction, masking her gesture with a cough and using her elbow. You roll your eyes good naturedly but look anyway— sure enough, Aether is on the lawn, sitting on a large rock and watching you carefully as he balances a book on his knee. Your other friend, the one currently entangled with Dew, makes a not-so-subtle cooing noise under his breath.

“He’s watching you, isn’t he? Got his eyes on his little pet. Yeah, you got a good Ghoul in that one. Isn’t it great how they watch us sometimes?” Even though your stomach is aflutter from the sudden attention, your friend’s voice still manages to rub you the wrong way— it isn’t lascivious, it’s just some good old fashioned teasing.

“He does that even when I’m not being a brat, in all fairness.” You lift your arm and wave at him, smiling to yourself when he returns the gesture, albeit with a slightly confused expression. “He just loves me, that’s all.” The sun feels excellent on your face and you tilt back towards it, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Aether is the farthest thing from your mind as you and your friends chatter on, linking your hands together and comparing various studies and opinions on everything under the sun. 

Soon enough, however, a shadow falls over the three of you. Across the lawn you hear a piercing whistle and are hardly surprised when you look up, finding that it belongs to Dew. When you look beside you to mention this to your friend he’s already gone, sprinting to join his own Ghoul— no doubt eagerly answering the summons that you’ve chosen to ignore for the day. You roll your eyes and look up to what’s causing the shadow, only barely blinking when you notice that it’s Aether.

“You want something for lunch, my princess?” he asks, holding out a small brown bag, no doubt packed with your favourite foods. When you decide to be a brat, he always attempts to sway you back under his thumb with your favourite snacks or books, and it almost always works. The temptation is overwhelming, and you can smell the food already— roast beef, potato chips, and a Twinkie. Your stomach clenches in a small display of hunger, but you screw up your mouth as if you’re thinking about it. 

“Oh, here we go,” your friend chirps from beside you. She rolls onto her back deftly and gets up, leaving quicker than you thought was possible. Alone with Aether, you laugh and sit up, patting the grass beside you.

“Perhaps. Sit with me?” Aether nods and sits beside you, opening the paper bag and drawing out the sandwich that you knew lurked inside. You swallow hard, looking at it for a moment until he hands it over to you.

“Are you going to be a good girl for your daddy and eat some proper food, unlike this morning?” Aether inclines his head towards you and holds the sandwich out until you take it greedily, unwrapping it and taking a large bite. Instantly his hand flips and grabs your wrist tightly, squeezing until you look at him, eyes wide. “Slow down. I don’t want you getting sick. Okay?” When you don’t answer instantly, he jerks your hand slightly until you nod, resuming your chewing. “Good girl.” 

“I try,” you mumble around the mouthful of sandwich. He smiles and shakes his head, laughing a little as he pats your knee with a large hand. 

“I figured as much.” Aether watches you for a moment as you chew in silence before reaching into the bag and drawing out his own sandwich, a partially cooked slab of steak on ciabatta. “Boss made bread again. All of us are having steak sandwiches, courtesy of Cirrus,” he says in answer to your raised eyebrow.

“Is it any good? The bread, I mean.” You swallow an overly large bite and cough a little, noticing with a frown when Aether does nothing to help you through the almost-not-quite-a-choke. He merely waits for you to finish as he chews patiently before answering with a dry smile. 

“Hubris. And yes, it is. He has talent.” You roll your eyes at him in a wide circle and toss the last bite of the crust of your sandwich in a far arc into the woods before digging in the bag for the Twinkie that you know is hidden at the bottom. “You still aren’t eating your crusts?” Aether asks in a disapproving tone.

“You know I don’t like them. They’re yucky.” Twinkie retrieved, you pull it out and open the wrapper quickly, poking your tongue out at Aether as you settle back down to eat your treat. “Crusts have no nutritional value, you know.” 

“‘Yucky’? It’s bread.” Aether tosses the rest of his own sandwich into his mouth and claps his hands to his thighs. “Right. Lunch break is over. Be in my room at 8, dressed for sleep. Don’t be late.” Before you can open your mouth to respond he’s already unfolded himself from the grass, dusted off his smart black slacks and left.

Your friends eventually migrate back to your area, one of them looking slightly disheveled, and you manage to evade their constant questions about what exactly happened over lunch. Being teased for being a Ghoul pet isn’t exactly a new occurrence, but the attention from Aether in public certainly is— and you’re warming up to it. When you mention this to your friends, one of them perks up a little bit.

“Dew loves it when I brat around in public. But you know what he loves even more?” He leans closer, winking at you when you shy away, suddenly embarrassed at the topic. “When I do it in private. When he can scold me. Trust me, do that to Aether tonight when he asked you to show up for bed. It’ll drive him wild.” 

“I mean… You seem to know best, I suppose.” You pause, thinking for a moment before asking the question on the tip of your tongue. “How could I do that?” 

“Oh, easy!” your other friend suddenly supplies, flushing when your attention shifts to her. Her eyes focus on the sunset in the distance as she talks, firmly fixing her gaze away from you. “Maybe you just show up… Not quite ready. Maybe one thing is slightly off. With how he’s been acting and how disobedient you’ve been today, maybe it’ll just send him over the edge.” You sit up and stretch before rising to your feet, giving it some thought before you respond. 

“I think I can manage that.” With that, you toss your friends a wink and flounce back to the Abbey, a spring in your step as a plan forms in your mind’s eye. 

Later, at half past 8 in the evening, you knock loudly on Aether’s door before letting yourself in. The Ghoul has clearly been waiting for you impatiently, as evidenced by his posture on the edge of his bed and the drumming of his claws against the wooden posts holding up the mattress. Aether stands up as soon as you fling his door open, kicking it shut quickly behind you with a hiss. 

“I instructed you to be at 8! Sharp!” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, scanning your outfit before frowning. “And you’re wearing… your habit still? I said come dressed for bed. Sathanas, do you just like to disobey me?” 

“Maybe I do,” you offer, your eyes meeting his and not deviating. You watch as his pupils dilate in quick and sudden arousal, his chest widening as his breathing deepens. The tip of his tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip and before you know it, his hand is clasped to the back of your neck. Aether’s claws dig briefly into the soft skin at the sides of your neck and you gasp, already bending under the pressure he’s exerting as you fall to your knees. 

“Then maybe I like forcing obedience. Did you ever consider that, Sister, hm?” Aether says, his voice becoming a low hiss in your ear as he crouches in front of you, watching as your face gets closer and closer to the ground. Just before your nose hits the carpet he lets go of you roughly, turning and stalking back to his bed before snapping his fingers sharply. “Crawl to daddy, Sister. Show me how sorry you are for disobeying me in front of all of those people today.” 

When you look up at him, crawling forward on your hands and knees, you can’t help the thought that he surely does make a pretty sight when he’s seated above you. His eyes are glowing in a mixture of arousal, arrogance and annoyance as he beckons to you with two fingers, pointing at the ground in front of him. You slide your hands reverently up his legs to his knees before continuing along his thighs, pausing when you reach the upper portion of the taut muscles. He just nods, motioning for you to continue before reaching up and tearing off your hair covering, tossing it into a far corner of the room.

“Such a pious little Sister, aren’t you? On your knees for a leader of the church. A true servant.” Aether’s tone is mocking and condescending, but you don’t have the time to be embarrassed at the hot spike of lust that spears through your cunt. His hands pull down his fly and then his cock is in front of you, held at base by his fist and enticingly close to your lips. “Go on then. Serve.” 

As soon as you bring your lips to the head of his cock he thrusts forward, his free hand coming to the back of your head and entangling in your hair, now free of the head covering. He groans as you slip yourself lower, dipping your tongue down to caress over his knuckles, making sure to show him how in control you are of yourself. When the head of his cock bumps your soft palate you cough slightly, using the moment to readjust yourself on your knees. His hand grips tighter in your hair, dragging you up along his shaft until he pulls you off of him, gasping and already drooling.

“I love you best like this, you know, princess. Supple and pliant. You’re so willing to just… finally- do everything I say. Isn’t that right?” You nod with difficulty when his fingers tighten in your hair almost painfully as his other hand runs the head of his cock along your lips. Aether hisses inward when your tongue flicks out to greet it, sliding himself past your lips once more and dragging you down until your nose bumps against his pelvis. 

You moan around him, shifting on the floor as you feel the nylon of your stockings beginning to stick to you even more with every thrust of his hips. When you gasp inward, choking on his cock until tears roll out of your eyes, he presses his advantage and moves his hands to either side of your face. Aether waits until you make eye contact with him and nods subtly, pressing you down into his lap and holding you there momentarily before letting you up once more as he coos down at you.

“That’s a good girl, princess. You’re being such a good girl for daddy finally, aren’t you?” Aether’s thumb strokes along your cheek as he manipulates you, dragging you along his shaft slowly. His eyes never leave your lips, watching as his cock disappears into your mouth over and over. Finally he lets you up for air, sitting further back on the bed and patting his lap firmly. “I think you’ve deserved a bit of a reward, don’t you?”

“Only if daddy thinks I have,” you respond with ease, rising from your knees and settling on his lap to face away from him, just how he likes it.. He presses his palm to your stomach, tucking you against his chest as he raises your leg and plants it firmly on the bed beside you. You manage to keep it there as his hand trails along your body, rubbing your leg lovingly until he finally finds the wet patch at the apex of your thighs, dampened with your slick and no doubt evident to his searching fingers. 

“Oh, my. What do we have here, princess? Are you all wound up just from servicing daddy?” You manage to nod and tuck your head against his shoulder, knowing exactly what he plans to do next— the sight of it always leaves you weak in the stomach and clenching for more. Sure enough, you can feel the grab of his claw as it snags in the nylon of your stocking, and the tugging only intensifies as he sheers through the fabric. Aether growls low in his throat when he feels your lack of panties, already moving his fist back towards his cock to direct it to your entrance. “Just couldn’t wait any more, could you?”

“Been thinking about this all day,” you sigh, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and closing your eyes as you lean against him. In no time, his cock has already found its way inside of you and he presses you down hard into his lap, grinding your ass against his hips as he seats himself to the hilt. “Fuck, that feels so nice, Aeth.” He nods and groans in agreement, kissing the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there.

Both of you moan in tandem as he shifts his hips, rocking upward into you at the same moment that the pad of his index finger finds your clit. He manages to keep up a decent rhythm as he helps you bounce on his lap, his finger swiping across you in a beat that you can’t quite predict— it’s enough to set off sparks of electricity across your skin every time he does it, though. Soon enough his tail begins to creep along the edges of your vision, finally settling along your other leg to wrap around your calf. When you nod your consent he lifts your leg with it gently, holding it aloft as his cock spears you, his other hand working you along his lap in a fervor as he nears his own climax.

“Aeth- Aeth, I need- All I need is-”

“I know,” he finishes for you, sealing your lips in a heated kiss as his teeth instantly score along your lower lip. The small nip of pain is enough to send you rocketing over the edge of your climax and you cum hard, stars bursting across your vision. You hear him murmuring to you, his lips grazing across yours softly as he does so, but you don’t have time to catch the words that he’s saying as you cum again, this time prompted by his sudden and concentrated assault on your clit with two fingers. 

By the time you come to your senses and return from your out of body experience he’s already finished inside of you, his cock still pulsing with the last vestiges of his own orgasm. In front of you on the stone floor is a small pool of the evidence of your arousal and you flush bright red— you knew that was his goal all along, when he lifted your leg and started concentrating on your clit. Aether works your body like a well tuned guitar and you’re more than happy to let him do it as often as he’d like. 

“Mm,” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your hair briefly, tail lowering your leg. “I told you to come dressed for bed… What are you going to sleep in now?” You laugh, laying your head back onto his shoulder and pressing a fond kiss to his cheek underneath the mask. 

“I figured we wouldn’t be sleeping at all.” 

“I can certainly make that happen,” he assents after a short pause. 

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #era 4 ghouls #aether #ns/fw

[shyshitter]

yea so i wrote a ficlet for this post bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it. also this really went off the rails bc it has been a phat second since ive written anything so enjoy i guess

Abigail likes Jack Kline. He’s quiet and sweet and doesn’t ask questions when she sometimes doesn’t bring lunch; he just subtly slides over his apple and chips with a smile. Sure, he’s a little odd sometimes (like how he talks like a thesaurus or says hi to everyone in the hallways) but she doesn’t believe he deserves the way the other kids make fun of him behind his back. They whisper about his mysterious and sudden appearance, how he’s been picked up after school by three different men, and his odd fascination with religion. He’s not like the other christian kids who are always trying to recruit kids for their church; he just--really likes Jesus and talks about Him like he knows Him personally. 

“My dad saved humanity,” he says constantly. “He’s died a few times but it’s never stuck. The most recent time was by nail but that was a misunderstanding.” 

So he’s an odd kid and Abby knows it but she just doesn’t care. Her friends have accepted this but even they are still confused by Jack’s odd behavior. Her friend Martha has history with him and talks about him all the time. 

“For the heritage project, he said his mother is dead and his father a son of God so he doesn’t have any ancestors to write about,” she says one day at lunch. “I think he thinks his biological father is Jesus Christ.”  

It takes a while but Abby finally works up the courage to ask him about it. Jack’s in the middle of a story about how his dad was healing someone when she interrupts him. 

“Do you think your dad is Jesus?” 

Jack frowns and tilts his head in confusion. “No Jesus is my cousin. My father hates him but my da doesn’t really care about him.”

Jack has two dads? 

“You have two dads?” she asks.

He pauses to think. ��Technically I have four dads but my real father was killed by three of them because he was trying to take me to space.”

Abby’s head spins. “Your dads are murderers?” 

“No, they’re hunters.” 

“But you just said they killed your real father.” 

Jack frowns again. “Yeah but my real father was the devil.” 

Abby remembers a girl she met at camp who said the same thing about her dad. She later learned that the girl was taken by CPS and her father went to prison. Suddenly, images of Jack alone and scared in a group home flood her mind and she grabs his arm in alarm.

“Are you safe?” she asks desperately. 

He just smiles and pats her arm. “Of course; he’s dead now.” 

She shakes her head. “I mean are you safe with your dads now?” 

His eyes light up like they always do when he talks about his family. “Of course! My dad was prophesied to save humanity and has, my da is an angel, and my pa is the leader of an army of hunters so I’m in good hands.” 

By the time Abby’s processed this comment, Jack has already moved on to his favorite types of cars and the conversation is over. 

She forgets about Jack’s crazy family situation until Spring Formal. Abby and her friends are standing in line for the photo booth when she sees Jack across the gym with a beautiful girl on his arm, both of them talking to a giant man with floppy brown hair. Without explaining, she leaves her friends to walk over and gets a better look at the three of them. The girl has long curly blonde hair that bounces when she laughs but her eyes are sharp and harsh, constantly scanning the room as if looking for threats. The man is wearing a white button-down with blue jeans and just smiles warmly as Jack talks animatedly to him. The man spots her as she approaches and for a moment, the warmth in his eyes is replaced by cold suspicion but as soon as Jack notices her and smiles, the man relaxes. 

“Abby, this is my pa,” Jack says with a grin. 

Jack’s ‘pa’ offers a hand and Abby shakes it. “Sam,” he says politely. “Jack talks about you a lot.”  

“Yeah,” the girl cuts in. “I was wondering when I was gonna meet you.” Her eyes trail up and down Abby’s body distrustfully. “This punk never shuts up about you.” 

Jack just keeps smiling. “This is my sister Claire,” he introduces. “She’s in college!” 

Overwhelmed by the introductions, Abby just smiles and offers her hand to Claire as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says, relieved when Claire accepts the handshake. 

“Have you met Dean and Cas yet?” Claire asks. “You’re not officially accepted by the family until Dean okayes you.” 

Sam swats a scolding hand over Claire’s head. “Don’t scare her--my brother isn’t that bad.” He looks back at Abby with a smile. “Don’t let my niece worry you, Dean and Cas are gonna love you.” 

Trying to do mental gymnastics in her head, Abby attempts to figure out how Sam is both Jack’s dad and Claire’s uncle while Jack and Claire are siblings. Dean and Cas are the other two fathers who killed Jack’s real dad and apparently Dean is also Sam’s brother. 

She doesn’t finish her thought process before Jack is dragging Abby across the gym, leaving Sam and Claire. 

“Dad, da,” he calls out over the music. 

Abby tries to spot who responds to Jack’s call and notices two more giant men by the food table look up from their conversation. They’re even more intimidating than Sam and Claire. The taller man has broad shoulders and hard eyes like Claire and despite this being a formal dance, he’s wearing a green canvas jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. The shorter man is a tad more formal with his too-big suit and tan overcoat but he watches them approach with a blank face which is almost more threatening than the hostile look the other man has. 

“Da, dad, this is my friend Abby,” Jack says as soon as they’re in earshot. 

The taller man looks her up and down like Claire did earlier before nodding shortly. “Nice to finally put a face to the name,” he says gruffly. His voice is rough and low but not unkind so Abby relaxes slightly. 

The other man smiles and it suits him much more than the blank look did. “It’s lovely to meet you, Abigail,” he says and holy shit his voice is even lower and gravilier than the other guy’s. “Jack speaks very highly of you.” 

“Yeah, thanks to you he listens to shitty music,” the taller man gripes but Abby can tell it’s more teasing than genuinely upset. 

“Dean,” the other man scolds as he nudges him. “Megan Thee Stallion is not shitty music.” 

If the taller man is Dean, the other is Cas and as Abby watches them, she can see the resemblance between Dean and Sam in their sharp jaws and teasing smiles.  

She turns to Jack. “You listen to Megan Thee Stallion?”

Jack nods excitedly. “You were humming her songs in English and I liked it.”

Cas leans in to Abby. “I’ve been trying to get him to branch out from 70s rock for ages but he never wanted to disappoint Dean so thank you for helping him.” 

Abby nods, dazed. “Are you Jesus?” she blurts after failing to come up with a response. 

Dean barks out a loud laugh and doesn’t stop until Cas swats him. Once Dean settles, Cas turns back to Abby with an embarrassed smile. 

“That’s very flattering,” he says, “but no. I am simply Castiel. If anything, Dean shares more in common with the Messiah than I do.” 

Instead of elaborating, Dean just snorts and humbly shakes his head. “Babe, we’ve talked about this--” 

But before he can finish, Cha Cha Slide blasts through the speakers and the gym falls into pandemonium as all the students rush to the dance floor. Jack, confused but excited, grabs Abby’s hand and drags her over to join in, leaving Dean and Cas for the rest of the night. 

Abby doesn’t consider herself a selfish person but even she has never thought so much about another person’s life than Jack’s. Her confusion keeps her up and night and prevents her from being fully present whenever she talks to Jack. She’s tried talking to her friends about it but even they have moved on from the enigma that is Jack Kline. 

One month after the formal--after she met Jack’s family--she finally snaps. She’s at lunch with him in a cafe downtown and he’s telling her about how his brother Kevin is visiting from college and is teaching Jack how to talk to angels. 

“What the fuck is wrong with your family,” she interrupts. 

Jack stops talking and tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“You said you have four dads and one of them was murdered by the other three. Dean and Sam are brothers and Dean is with Cas. Claire is your sister but Sam is her uncle and your brother has a mom but none of you are related to her.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “You keep saying your dads saved the world and that they’ve died and come back. You said one of your dads was an angel and now your brother is teaching you how to talk to angels? Are you lying or are you just plain crazy?” 

After the last sentence slips from her lips, she gasps and a cold dread fills her. Jack just stares, shocked at the outburst. 

“You think I’m crazy?” he asked softly. 

Abby feels a lump in her throat form. “No, no, no,” she babbles, “I didn’t mean that. I’m just confused that’s all.” 

Jack brightens. “That’s ok, life is confusing. Anyways, I tried shawarma for the first time yesterday--like in the superhero movie!”

Abby sighs and let’s Jack rant about shawarma, resigned to the fact that she’ll never get a straight answer from this confounding boy and his unnatural family. 

#jack calls sam pa!!! #also i included kevin bc fuck spn kevin lives #this is not a self-insert btw #i just wanted an outside pov #tw abuse #tw dean's death #tw poverty #ficlet #spn #spn fanfiction #ava rambles #fics #fic rec

[reallifesultanas]

Portrait of Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş / Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş portréja

Origin and youth

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş was a woman of Greek descent who was certainly captured during the Venetian-Ottoman War. The grimace of fate is that the outbreak of the war was attributable to Mehmed IV, who later became Emetullah's sweetheart. In the summer of 1645, Ibrahim I declared war on Venice and sent a large Turkish army to Crete. The immediate cause of the war was that Maltese pirates captured an Ottoman ship carrying several influential people. Among them was the wet-nurse of Mehmed IV and her own son, whom Sultan Ibrahim I loved very much. So much that the he cared more with the wet-nurse's son than he did with his own child, Mehmed. The war lasted for decades, until 1669, so it is not possible to determine exactly when Emetullah was captured.

Emetullah was a gift from a certain Deli Hüseyn Pasha, who took the Cretan slaves he had captured to the Sultan’s palace and recommended the bests to the sultan’s harem. Deli Hüseyn Pasha died in 1659, so Emetullah definitely joined the harem before that time. This, unfortunately, does not help us, for considering that Emetullah was already a favorite of the Sultan in 1660 and this had to be preceded by several years of education, so most likely she was captured before 1654. Many give the year 1645 as captivity, however, this is almost ruled out. In general, children under the age of 5 were not caught, because they caused more trouble than benefit, and were more likely to die during the long and tumultuous journey. Assuming that Emetullah was roughly the same old — or younger — than Mehmed IV (born in 1642), she could have been captured in 1648 at the earliest.

The consort

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş matured into a beautiful young woman, making her perfectly suited to entertain the sultan. Emetullah is one of the few sultanas whose appearance is known in considerable detail. One of the ambassadors had the opportunity to see one of Emetullah's clothes and belts, on the basis of which he thought the Sultana was a taller-than-average but graceful. The same ambassador heard from his informant that the Sultana had fine skin and blue eyes. Other descriptions said she had black curly hair. Towards the end of her life, Emetullah was reportedly more plump than slender.

It is not known exactly when Mehmed started receiving concubines and when Emetullah became his favorite. Mehmed's first child, a girl, was born in 1660. According to circumstantial evidence, this girl, Hatice, was the first child of Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş. Based on this, we can assume that Emetullah became Mehmed’s partner in the late 1650s. However, their relationship had not really deepened at this point, as Mehmed spent the next period away from his harem, traveling a lot.

Shortly afterwards, the Sultan moved his entire court to Edirne, making it the de facto capital of the Empire. It was a perfect timing that his firstborn son, Mustafa, was born here in 1664. Mehmed was so happy for the birth of his son that he piled up the child’s mother, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş, with amazing gifts and never left the woman alone from then on. He took her with him on his hunts and even on his campaigns. Together they had at least two more children, Ahmed (later Ahmed III) in 1673 and Fatma Emetullah in 1675. In addition to the four children mentioned above, Mehmed certainly had other children (Ayşe, Bayezid, Ümmügülsüm, Süleyman). The identity of their mother is unknown, it could have been Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş, but even other concubines.

As the Sultan’s favourit concubine, the mother of his children, Emetullah, was the second highest-ranking woman in the harem. Her relationship with the first woman of the harem is controversial. Some say Emetullah was an evil, violent woman who regularly confronted her mother-in-law, Mehmed’s mother, Turhan Hatice Valide Sultan. However, there is no evidence to that effect, in fact! Emetullah and Turhan certainly worked together periodically to achieve their political goals. In 1682, Grand Vizier Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasha began to anger Turhan more and more, as he tried to make her political influence impossible. We don’t know what motivation Gülnüş was for, but she helped Turhan remove the pasha. Eventually, unfortunately, Turhan died before the pasha was deposed. Either way, this collaboration makes it unlikely that the relationship between Emetullah and Turhan would have been bad. In addition, Emetullah had a good relationship with Turhan’s eunuch, Yusuf Agha, which would also not have been possible if the two women did not like and respect each other.

Many blame Emetullah’s ambitions for the supposedly fragile relationship. Legend has it that Mehmed’s beloved, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş, tried to persuade him to execute his half-brothers and make their own sons his heir instead. However, knowing the infinitely close relationship between Mehmed and his sons, we cannot rule out that Mehmed himself wanted to change the inheritance. Whoever was its inventor, no one supported the idea, not the people, not the pashas and not even Mehmed’s mother, Turhan. Turhan, to protect Prince Suleiman and Ahmed from death and his son from fall, always kept her two foster sons with her. If Turhan traveled, she took them with her so that Mehmed would not execute them in her absence.

Sultana on the campaigns

After the birth of Mustafa, the sultan did not want to go anywhere without Emetullah and his son. From then on, Emetullah accompanied her sweetheart everywhere, hence her nickname became, the "itinerant sultana". The first such campaign took place in 1672, when Mehmed took the whole harem of his, his mother, his Haseki, and his sisters to Polish territory. From this trip we are left with a description of an incident in which Emetullah’s silver carriage was stuck in the mud due to bad weather on the way to the Babadag camp. The sultan could not wait for hours for the carriage to be released, so Fazıl Ahmed Pasha, the Grand Vizier, was left with his men to help the Sultana. On August 28, 1672, Kamianets-Podilskyi fell and became the property of the Ottomans. Mosque were formed from all the churches in the city, one of which was named in honor of Gülnüş. With this she became the first and only Haseki Sultan to enjoy such a privilege.

They spent a few months near the front and then returned to Edirne. However, the agreement was crossed by the Polish, so in 1673 Mehmed was forced to return to the front and took his sweetheart with him again. This is particularly noteworthy and not just because the sultans had not taken their wives on the battlefield for centuries, but because Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş was already heavily pregnant with her second son. The baby was finally born during the campaign on 31 December 1673 at Hacıoglupazarı in present-day Bulgaria. This was the only time an Ottoman prince was born near the battlefield, away from the security of the capital or the provinces. The fact is, however, that this camp was also very far from the real war.

After the success of the Polish campaign, the Sultan retreated to Edirne, where in 1675 he organized a huge ceremony in which his two sons, Mustafa and Ahmed, were circumcised and his eldest daughter, Hatice, was married off. Mehmed's appearance was reported at the event, but many praised the princes and Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş, who attended the ceremony as well. According to one agha present, the Sultana was a beautiful woman with chesnut hair. It is questionable, of course, to what extent we can believe such descriptions, since her hair was certainly covered with a veil, even if she was present. Then in 1676 Mehmed embarked on another campaign - again, of course, with his sweetheart on his side - this time to match the Russians. The aim of the campaign was to rule over today's Ukrainian - then Polish - territories. Finally, in 1681, the campaign ended with an agreement.

The first woman in the harem and the fall

Whatever the relationship between Turhan and Emetullah was, with the death of Turhan in 1683, the road to the top of the harem opened up before Emetullah. Although her large-scale construction projects, as a Haseki, began during Turhan’s life, her political career could have really gained momentum only without Turhan. There is a known case, for example, in which one of Mustafa's teachers, Feyzullah Efendi, who was very close to Emetulla committed a mistake and was faced with severe punishment. Eventually, Emetullah intervened and saved the man's life.

However, Emetullah could not enjoy the control of the harem for long. The 1680s were about a series of tragedies. The enemies of the Ottoman Empire clashed in turn and squeezed the Ottomans more and more out of European territories. This caused general dissatisfaction, and then over time, chaos, executions, financial problems spread throughout the empire, more and more rebellions set in, and even natural disasters plagued the empire. Turhan's death was practically sealed the end of Mehmed IV also. He became increasingly unpopular, and suffered the final blow in 1687. After the tragic outcome of the second battle of Mohács, Mehmed was dethroned and his younger brother, Suleiman, was put to the throne, as Suleiman II. This meant Emetullah's move to the Old Palace.

Not only did Emetullah face the loss of her power and exile, but she was separated from her beloved. A member of Mehmed’s harem, the poet Afife Kadin, at this time composed one of her poems about Gülnüş. According to the verse, Gülnüş sobbed and shouted as long as her lungs could hold, while her loved one was torn away from her and locked up. While Mehmed sobbed quietly in the kafes, his beloved cried across the wall. In another verse of hers, Afife writes, "Tell Gülnüş to wear black / to suffer in pain / While Sultan Mehmed weeps in Şimşirlik" We do not know if Emetullah and Mehmed may have met until Mehmed's death in 1693.

Back to the top

Due to Süleyman II's ill condition, followed by the old Ahmed II, Emetullah did not have to linger in the Old Palace for long. In 1695, barely 8 years after her retirement, Emetullah was able to return as Valide Sultan. Ahmed II died in Edirne and Mustafa II took his place as Sultan. Emetullah was then in the Old Palace in Istanbul, so thats where she received the news. As part of a huge ceremony, Emetullah went from the Old Palace to Topkapi Palace and from there to Edirne. On the way to Edirne, several bridges had to be renovated before the Valide Sultan's arrival. The costs of the bridge-renovations  were recorded in the registers as Ahmed II's funeral expenses. Arriving in Edirne, her son welcomed the new Valide Sultan.

In the following years Edirne remained the de facto capital of the Empire. The sultan spent only a short period of time in Istanbul with his court, and then they were not resided in Topkapi Palace either, but preferred other palaces. Mustafa and Emetullah quickly gathered their trustworthy men around them and began to rule according to their own tastes. Thus, for example, the Feyzullah Efendi who had previously been rescued from execution by Emetullah, became the Seyhülislam. During Mustafa's reign, Emetullah built an unprecedented power for herself, her all-intertwined political influence was huge and also her son openly discussed state affairs with her. In addition, Emetullah regularly showed up among the people, leaving the harem, visiting her daughters or foundations. She lived a fairly free life. So much that at certain events she stood right next to her son, veiled but not hiding. At other times, she welcomed Seyhülislam, Grand Vizier, or other influential statesmen openly or were present at parades in Eyüb.

Emetullah’s tremendous influence over her son, the rampant corruption among statesmen, and the neglect of Istanbul all provoked the displeasure of the people. In 1703 a huge revolt broke out in the capital, but it quickly reached Edirne as well. Emetullah provided good advice to her son, trying to quickly replace any statesman who might have harmed them, but it was too late. During the rebellion Mustafa II was dethroned. The rebels refused to ascend Mustafa's younger brother, Ahmed, as he was also the son of Emetullah. They wanted to replace Mustafa II with the 11-years-old Şehzade Ibrahim, the son of Ahmed II and his Haseki, Rabia Sultan . The ulema, however, rejected this based on the boy's age, and as a polite gesture a letter was written to Emetullah asking for permission to dethrone Mustafa and replace him with Ahmed III. Although she had no real say, Emetullah responded in agreement:"All of you have requested in concord and unanimity that my majestic son Sultan Ahmed be seated on the imperial throne and that my other son Sultan Mustafa be deposed. Your petition has been complied with."

However, the dethronement of Mustafa was far from enough for the rebels. Gülnüş was demanded to leave Edirne or Topkapi Palace and retire to the Old Palace. Emetullah did indeed remain there until the circumstances calmed down enough for her to return. Perhaps she did not even regret her retreat, for Mustafa, her firstborn son, died in December 1703 of natural causes.

Shadow Valide

The pashas tried to keep Gülnüş away from her son and from state affairs because they feared a revenge from Emetullah on Mustafa's dethronement and subsequent death. They feared they would face a revenge campaign like the pashas who in 1648 dethroned and executed the son of Kösem Sultan, Ibrahim I. In the meantime, however, it turned out that Gülnüş did not even think of revenge. She learned from her previous mistakes and from the end of the Kösem Sultan, so she was much more careful and respectful with the pashas from then on than before. There were rewards for this.

One of Ahmed III’s first steps was to take the imperial court back to Istanbul, so Edirne ceased to be the de facto capital. To increase the sultan’s popularity among the people of Istanbul, plenty of public events were organized, such as archery competitions. Of course Gülnüş tried to help her second son, Ahmed III, but she did it all from the background. However, her participation in political life is by no means conditional. Several letters have survived, which she exchanged with the pashas during Ahmed III's reign. When one of the Grand Vizier tried to have a say in which eunuch Gülnüş would appoint to lead the harem, he quickly found himself without a position. So Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş did not give up politics at all, only she played it in a smarter and less spectacularly way.

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş returned to the limelight once again. In 1709, during the war between the Russians and the Swedes, the Swedish king was captured and then found refuge in the Ottoman Empire. The king sought the help of the Ottomans to regain his throne. Emetullah, along with the second Vizier Damat Silahdar Ali Pasha, publicly stood by the king's request and tried to persuade Ahmed III to wage war against the Russians. The other members of the divan, such as the Grand Vizier, did not agree at all with Gülnüş's will, so a controversy ensued. Ahmed III finally, following the advice of his mother, went to war with the Russian Empire in 1711. The war ended with treaties.

Her death and legacy

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş followed her son from Istanbul to Edirne in the summer of 1715 to welcome there the army of the Grand Vizier, who had successfully re-conquered Morea from the Venetians. Her health here deteriorated in a few months and whatever the best doctors of the empire tried Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş died on November 6, 1715, in Edirne. Funeral prayers were held in Edirne in the presence of the Sultan, Grand Vizier, Ulema, and all important statesmen, and then her body was taken back to Istanbul, where she was buried in her own tomb on November 9th. Her turbe is particularly interesting, as it is not covered like most dynastic tombs, but open to the sky. By the way, this was built according to Emetullah's own wishes. There are plenty of plants and water in the octagonal tomb, which was probably built like that to resemble the Garden of Eden.

During her life, Gülnüş managed several construction projects, during which mosques, soup kitchens, schools, fountains and a tomb were built. But she converted several former churches into mosques also, and others were named in his honor. She also had foundations in Üsküdar, Edirne, Chios, Mecca, Medina, Kastamonu and Menemen.

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş was the last valide sultan during the period of the Sultanate of Women. Although there were still some Valide with exceptional influence after her, no one was able to gain an influence similar to her and her predecessors anymore. It was the death of Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş that eventually completely ended the period of the Sultanate of Women. True, she was not the last Haseki Sultan, because her brother-in-law Ahmed II had a Haseki, Rabia Sultan, but the woman had already died in 1712 before Emetullah. So with the death of Gülnüş, on November 6, 1715, the more than 180-years-long period of the Sultanate of Women ended. The Sultanate of Women was followed by the Tulip era, which was one of the most peaceful periods in the history of the empire, during which Westernization began.

Used sources: B. İ. Argıt - A Queen Mother and the Ottoman Imperial Harem: Rabia Gülnuş Emetullah Valide Sultan (1640-1715); M. Ç. Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları, Y.Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar, N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları; M. Özgüleş - The Women Who Built the Ottoman World: Female Patronage and the Architectural Legacy of Gülnuş Sultan; H. G. Majer - The Harem of Mustafa II (1695-1703); J. Dumas - Les perles de nacre du sultanat; A. D. Alderson - The Structure of the Ottoman Dynasty; L. Peirce - The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire; C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire

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Származása fiatalkora

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş görög származású nő volt, akit minden bizonnyal a velencei-oszmán háború során fogtak el. A sors fintora, hogy a háború kirobbanása köthető volt IV. Mehmedhez, aki később Emetullah kedvese lett. I. Ibrahim 1645 nyarán hadat üzent Velencének és egy nagy török sereget küldött Krétára. A háború közvetlen oka az volt, hogy máltai kalózok fogtak el egy oszmán felségjelzésű hajót, mely több befolyásos személyt szállított. Köztük volt IV. Mehmed szoptatósdajkája és annak fia, akiket I. Ibrahim szultán nagyon szeretett. Olyannyira, hogy a szoptatósdajka fiával többet törődött, mint saját gyermekével, Mehmeddel. A háború évtizedeken keresztül zajlott, egészen 1669-ig, így pontosan nem meghatározható, hogy Emetullah mikor esett fogságba.

Emetullah egy bizonyos Deli Hüseyn Pasa ajándéka volt, aki a saját maga által ejtett krétai rabszolgákat vitte a szultáni palotába és a legjobbakat a szultán háremébe ajánlotta. Deli Hüseyn Pasa 1659-ben elhunyt, így Emetullah mindenképp ezen időpont előtt került a hárembe. Ez sajnos nem segít nekünk, ugyanis tekintve, hogy Emetullah 1660-ban már a szultán kedvence volt és ezt több éves oktatás kellett, hogy megelőzze, a legvalószínűbb, hogy 1654 előtt esett fogságba. Sokan adják meg az 1645-ös évet, mint fogságba esés, azonban ez szinte kizárt. Általában 5 év alatti gyerekeket nem fogtak el, velük több volt a baj, mint a haszon és nagy eséllyel haltak meg a hosszú és viszontagságos út során. Ha feltételezzük, hogy Emetullah nagyjából egy idős volt - vagy fiatalabb -, mint IV Mehmed (1642), legkorábban 1648-ban eshetett fogságba.

Az ágyas

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş csodaszép fiatal nővé érett, így tökéletesen alkalmas lett a szultán szórakoztatására. Emetullah azon kevés szultána közé tartozik, akinek külsejét meglehetősen részletesen ismerjük. Az egyik követnek lehetősége volt látni Emetullah egyik ruháját és övét, mely alapján az átlagnál magasabb, de kecses nőnek gondolta a szultánát. Ugyanez a követ úgy hallotta informátorától, hogy a szultánának finom bőre és kék szeme van. Más leírások szerint fekete göndör haja volt. Élete vége felé Emetullah a beszámolók szerint inkább volt telt, mint karcsú.

Nem tudni pontosan, hogy Mehmed mikor kezdett ágyasokat fogadni és hogy Emetullah mikor vált a kedvencévé. Mehmed első gyermeke, egy kislány 1660-ban született. Közvetett bizonyítékok alapján ez a lány, Hatice, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş első gyermeke volt. Ez alapján feltételezhetjük, hogy Emetullah a kései 1650-es években vált Mehmed partnerévé. Kapcsolatuk azonban ekkoriban még nem mélyült el igazán, hiszen Mehmed a következő időszakot a háremétől távol töltötte, sokat utazott.

A szultán nemsokkal később az egész udvartartását áthelyezte Edirnébe, ezzel gyakorlatilag mintegy de facto fővárossá tette meg az általa annyira kedvelt várost. Tökéletes időzítés volt, hogy elsőszülött fia, Musztafa itt látta meg a napvilágot 1664-ben. Mehmed annyira örült fia születésének, hogy elképesztő ajándékokkal halmozta el a gyermek anyját, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüşt és innentől kezdve sosem hagyta magára a nőt. Magával vitte a vadászataira, sőt hadjárataira is. Együtt még legalább két gyermekük született, Ahmed (későbbi III. Ahmed) 1673-ban és Fatma Emetullah 1675-ben. Mehmednek a fent említett négy gyermeken kívül bizonyosan voltak más gyermekei (Ayşe, Bayezid, Ümmügülsüm, Süleyman). Az ő anyjuk kiléte ismeretlen, lehetett Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş is, de akár más ágyasok is.

Mint a szultán kiemelt ágyasa, gyermekeinek anyja Emetullah a hárem második legmagasabb rangú asszonya volt. Viszonya a hárem első asszonyával ellentmondásos. Egyesek szerint Emetullah gonosz, erőszakos nő volt, aki rendszeresen szállt szembe anyósával, Mehmed édesanyjával, Turhan Hatice Valide szultánával. Azonban nincs erre utaló bizonyíték, sőt! Emetullah és Turhan időszakosan bizonyosan együttműködtek, hogy politikai céljaikat elérjék. 1682-ben Merzifonlu Kara Mustafa Pasa nagyvezír egyre jobban kezdte dühíteni Turhant, ugyanis próbálta ellehetetleníteni annak politikai befolyását. Azt nem tudjuk, hogy Gülnüş milyen motiváció miatt, de segített Turhannak a pasa eltávolításában. Végül sajnos Turhan előbb halt meg, minthogy a pasát lefokozták volna. Akárhogyan is, ez az együttműködés teszi valószínűtlenné, hogy Emetullah és Turhan közt rideg lett volna a kapcsolat. Mindemellett Emetullah jó viszonyt ápolt Turhan eunuchjával, Yusuf Agával, ami szintén nem lett volna lehetséges, ha a két nő nem kedveli és tiszteli egymást.

Sokan a feltételezett rideg kapcsolatért Emetullah ambícióit okolják. A legenda úgy tartja, hogy Mehmedet kedvese, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş szultána igyekezett meggyőzni arról, hogy végeztesse ki elzárva tartott féltestvéreit és helyettük közös fiaikat tegye meg örökösének. Ismerve azonban a Mehmed és fiai közt fennálló végtelenül szoros viszonyt, nem zárhatjuk ki, hogy maga Mehmed kívánta megváltoztatni az öröklést. Akárki is volt a kifundálója, senki sem támogatta az ötletet, sem a nép, sem a pasák és Mehmed anyja, Turhan szultána sem. Turhan, hogy megóvja Szulejmán és Ahmed hercegeket a haláltól, fiát pedig a bukástól, mindig maga mellett tartotta két nevelt fiát. Ha Turhan utazott, magával vitte őket, nehogy távollétében Mehmed kivégeztesse őket.

Szultána a fronton

Musztafa születése után a szultán nem kívánt Emetullah és fia nélkül bárhová is menni. Innentől kezdve Emetullah mindenhová elkísérte kedvesét, innen ered beceneve, a "vándorló szultána" (itinerant sultan). Az első ilyen hadjáratra 1672-ben került sor, mikor Mehmed az egész háremét, anyját, Haszekijét, húgait is magával vitte a lengyel területekre. Erről az útról marad ránk egy esemény leírása, miszerint babadagi tábor felé vezető úton a rossz időjárási viszonyok miatt Emetullah ezüst fogata beragadt a sárba. A szultán nem várhatott órákat, amíg az elakadt kocsit kiszabadítják, így Fazıl Ahmed Pasa, a nagyvezír maradt hátra embereivel, hogy segítse a szultánát. 1672. augusztus 28-én Kamianets-Podilskyi elesett és az oszmánoké lett. A városban található összes templomból mecsetet alakítottak, melyek közül az egyiket Gülnüş tiszteletére nevetek el. Ezzel ő lett az első és egyetlen Haszeki szultána, aki ilyen kiváltságban részesülhetett.

Néhány hónapot töltöttek a front közelében, majd visszatértek Edirnébe. A megkötött egyezséget azonban a lengyelek keresztülhúzták, így 1673-ban Mehmed kénytelen volt visszatérni a frontra és magával vitte kedvesét is. Ez azért különösen említésre méltó, mert azontúl, hogy a szultánok évszázadok óta nem vitték harctérre asszonyaikat, Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş már előrehaladott terhes volt második fiával, akit végül a hadjáraton szült meg 1673. december 31-én Hacıoglupazarınál, a mai Bulgária területén. Ez a valaha volt egyetlen olyan eset, amikor egy oszmán herceg a hadszíntéren született meg, távol a főváros vagy a provinciák biztonságától. Tény azonban, hogy ez a tábor is igen távol volt a valódi fronttól.

A lengyel hadjárat sikere után a szultán Edirnébe vonult vissza, ahol 1675-ben hatalmas ünnepséget szervezett, melyen két fiát Musztafát és Ahmedet körülmetélték, legidősebb lányát Haticét pedig kiházasította. Az eseményen beszámoltak Mehmed külleméről, de sokan méltatták a herceget és Mehmed mellett az ��nnepségen résztvevő Emetullah Rabia Gülnüşt is. Az egyik jelenlévő szerint a szultána gesztenyebarna hajú, gyönyörű nő volt. Kérdéses persze mennyire hihetünk az ilyen jellegű leírásoknak, hiszen haját egészen biztosan fátyol fedte, ha jelen volt is. 1676-ban aztán Mehmed újabb hadjáratra indult - természetesen ismét kedvesével az oldalán -, ezúttal az oroszokkal kívánt megmérkőzni. A hadjárat célja az mai ukrán - akkori lengyel - területek feletti uralom volt. Végül 1681-ben megállapodással zárult le a hadjárat.

A hárem első asszonya és a bukás

Bármilyen volt is Turhan és Emetullah kapcsolata, Turhan 1683-as halálával megnyílt Emetullah előtt az út a hárem csúcsára. Bár nagyszabású Haszekiként végzett építési projektjei még Turhan életében elkezdődtek, politikai karrierje ekkor lendülhetett meg igazán. Ismert például egy eset, mikor Musztafa egyik tanítója - aki igen közel állt Emetullahoz - Feyzullah Efendi hibát követett el és súlyos büntetés volt kilátásba helyeztve számára. Végül Emetullah közbelépett és megmentette a férfi életét.

Emetullah nem élvezhette azonban sokáig a hárem irányítását. Az 1680-as évek a sorozatos tragédiákról szóltak. Az Oszmán Birodalom ellenségei sorra fogtak össze egymással és szorították egyre kintebb az oszmánokat az európai területekről. Ez általános elégedetlenséget okozott, majd idővel káosz, kivégzések, anyagi problémák terjedtek el mindenhol a birodalomban, egyre több lázadás indult útjára és még természeti katasztrófák is sújtották a tragikus helyzetben lévő birodalmat. Gyakorlatilag már anyja halálával megpecsételődött Mehmed sorsa, egyre népszerűtlenebb lett, a végső csapást pedig 1687-ben szenvedte el. A második mohácsi csata tragikus kimenetele után Mehmedet trónfosztották és öccsét, Szulejmánt ültették trónra, aki így évtizedekig tartó elzárt élete után megkezdhette uralkodását II. Szulejmán néven. Ez egyet jelentett Emetullah Régi Palotába való költözésével.

Emetulláhnak nem csak a hatalma elvesztésével és száműzetéssel kellett szembenéznie, de elválasztották őt kedvesétől. Mehmed háremének egy tagja, a költő Afife Kadin ekkoriban komponálta egyik Emetullah Rabia Gülnüşről szóló versét. A vers szerint Gülnüş szultána addig zokogott és kiáltozott, mikor kedvesét a szultánt elszakították tőle és elzárták, amíg csak bírta a tüdeje. Mehmed pedig csendben zokogott a kafesben, míg szerelme a fal túloldalán sírt. Egy másik versében azt írja "Mondd Gülnüşnek, viseljen feketét / hogy abban szenvedje el fájdalmát / míg Mehmed szultán Şimşirlikben sír". Nem tudjuk, hogy Emetullah és Mehmed találkozhattak e még Mehmed 1693-as haláláig.

Vissza a csúcsra

II. Szulejmán szultán beteges állapota miatt, majd az őt követő II. Ahmed kora miatt nem kellett Emetullahnak sokáig a Régi Palotában senyvedni. 1695-ben, alig 8 év után Emetullah valide szultánaként térhetett vissza. II. Ahmed Edirnében hunyt el és a szintén jelenlévő II. Musztafa vette át a helyét szultánként. Emetullah ekkor Isztambulban a Régi Palotában volt, itt kapta meg a hírt. Emetullah hatalmas ünnepség keretei között a Régi Palotából a Topkapi Palotába ment, onnan pedig Edirnébe. Az Edirnébe való út során több hidat kellett megújítani a valide szultána előtt, melyek költségeit mind II. Ahmed temetési költségeiként vezettek fel a jegyzőkönyvekbe. Edirnébe érve fia üdvözölte az új valide szultánát.

A következő években is Edirne maradt a birodalom központja, csak rövidebb időszakot töltött az udvar Isztambulban és akkor sem a Topkapi Palotában voltak, hanem más palotákat részesítettek előnyben. Musztafa és Emetullah gyorsan maguk köré gyűjtötték megbízható embereiket és saját szájízük szerint kezdtek uralkodni. Így lett például Seyhülislam abból a Feyzullah Efendiből, akit korábban már egyszer Emetullah megmentett a kivégzéstől. Musztafa uralkodása alatt Emetullah sosem látott hatalmat épített magának, mindent átszőtt politikai befolyása de fia is nyíltan megvitatta vele az államügyeket. Emellett Emetullah rendszeresen mutatkozott az emberek közt, hagyta el a háremet, látogatta meg lányait vagy alapítványait. Meglehetősen szabad életet élt. Olyannyira, hogy bizonyos eseményeken egyenesen fia mellett állt elfátyolozva, de nem elbújva. Máskor a Seyhülislamot, nagyvezírt vagy más befolyásos államférfiakat fogadott nyíltan vagy parádékat tekintett meg Eyüb városrészben.

Emetullah hatalmas befolyása fiára, az államférfiak közt dívó korrupció és Isztambul elhanyagolása mind a nép nemtetszését váltották ki. 1703-ban hatalmas lázadás tört ki a fővárosban, de gyorsan elérte Edirnét is. Emetullah jó tanácsokkal látta el fiát, igyekeztek gyorsan leváltani minden államférfit, aki kárt okozhatott volna nekik, de már késő volt. A lázadás során II. Musztafát trónfosztották. A lázadók azt is elutasították, hogy Musztafa öccsét, Ahmedet emeljék trónra, hiszen ő is Emetullah fia volt, helyette II. Ahmed és Haseki Rabia szultána 11 éves fiát, Ibrahim herceget akarták a trónra ültetni. Az ulema azonban ezt elutasította a fiú korára való tekintettel és illedelmes gesztusként levelet írtak Emetullahnak, melyben engedélyét kérték Musztafa trónfosztásához. Bár nem volt valódi beleszólása, Emetullah beleegyezően válaszolt.

A lázadóknak azonban Musztafa trónfosztása távolról sem volt elég. Követelték, hogy Gülnüş hagyja el a Topkapi palotát és vonuljon vissza a Régi Palotába. Emetullah valóban ott maradt, amíg a körülmények nem nyugodtak meg eléggé visszatéréséhez. Talán nem is bánta az elvonult életet, ugyanis Musztafa, elsőszülött fia 1703 decemberében természetes okok következtében elhunyt.

Árnyék Valide

A pasák azért igyekeztek Gülnüşt távol tartani fiától és az államügyektől, mert attól tartottak bosszút állna rajtuk Musztafa trónfosztása és későbbi halála miatt. Féltek, hogy egy olyan bosszúhadjárattal találnák szembe magukat, mint azok a pasák, akik 1648-ban Köszem szultána fiát, Ibrahimot trónfosztották és kivégezték. Gülnüşről azonban időközben kiderült, hogy eszében sincs bosszút állni. Tanult az esetből és Köszem szultána halálából, így sokkal óvatosabban, tisztelettudóbban viselkedett a pasákkal, mint korábban. Ennek meg is lett az eredménye.

III. Ahmed egyik első lépése az volt, hogy a birodalmi udvartartást újra visszavitte Isztambulba, így Edirne megszűnt de facto fővárosnak lenni. Hogy a szultán népszerűsgét növeljék Isztambul népe között, rengeteg nyilvános eseményt szerveztek, például íjászati bemutatókat. Természetesen Gülnüş második fia, III. Ahmed uralkodása során is kényelemben élt és igyekezett segíteni fiát, de mindezt a háttérből tette. Részvétele a politikai életben azonban egyáltalán nem feltételes. Fennmaradt több levele is, melyet a pasákkal váltott III. Ahmed uralkodása során. Mindemellett, amikor az egyik nagyvezír megpróbált beleszólni abba, hogy Gülnüş melyik eunuchot nevezi ki a hárem élére gyorsan pozíció nélkül találta magát. Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş tehát egyáltalán nem hagyott fel a politikával, csak azt okosabban és kevésbé látványosan tette.

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş még egyszer visszatért a rivaldafénybe. 1709-ben az oroszok és svédek közti háború során a svéd király fogságba esett, majd az Oszmán Birodalomban talált menedékre. A király az oszmánok segítségét kérte, hogy visszaszerezhesse trónját. Emetullah a második vezír Damat Silahdar Ali Pasával karöltve nyilvánosan álltak a király kérése mellé és igyekeztek rávenni III. Ahmedet, hogy vállaljon háborút az oroszokkal. A divan más tagjai, így a nagyvezír egyáltalán nem értettek egyet Gülnüş akaratával, így vita alakult ki. III. Ahmed végül az édesanyja tanácsát követve bocsátkozott 1711-ben háborúba az Orosz Birodalommal, mely egyezményekkel zárult.

Halála és hagyatéka

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş 1715 nyarán követte fiát Isztambulból Edirnébe, hogy ott üdvözöljék a nagyvezír seregét, aki sikeresen hódította vissza Moreát a velenceiektől. Egészsége itt néhány hónap alatt leromlott és bármivel is próbálkoztak a birodalom legjobb orvosai Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş 1715. november 6-án, Edirnében meghalt. A temetési imákat Edirnében mondták a szultán, nagyvezír, ulema és minden fontos államférfi jelenlétében, majd testét visszavitték Isztambulba, ahol saját türbéjében temették el november 9-én. Türbéje kifejezetten érdekes, ugyanis nem fedett, mint a legtöbb dinaszitkus türbe, hanem az ég felé nyitott. Ez egyébként Emetullah saját kívánsága szerint épült így. Az oktagonális türbében rengeteg a növény és a víz, mely valószínűleg amiatt épült így, hogy hasonlítson az Édenkertre.

Élete során Gülnüş több építkezési projektet menedzselt, melynek során mecset, leveskonyha, iskola, kút, türbe épült. De több korábbi templomot építtetett át mecsetté, másokat pedig tiszteletére neveztek el. Emellett volt alapítványa Üsküdarban, Edirnében, Chiosban, Mekkában, Medinában, Kastamonuban és Menemenben.

Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş volt az utolsó valide szultána a Nők szultánátusának időszakában. Bár utána is akadt néhány kivételes befolyással bíró Valide, az övéhez és elődeihez hasonló befolyást senkinek sem sikerült többé szerezni. Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş halála volt az, amely végül teljesen lezárta a Nők szultánátusának időszakát is. Igaz, nem ő volt az utolsó Haszeki szultána, mert sógorának II. Ahmednek volt egy Haszekije, Rabia Sultan, a nő már Emetullah előtt, 1712-ben meghalt. Gülnüş halálával, 1715. november 6-n lezárult az a több, mint 180 éves időszak, mely során befolyásosabbnál befolyásosabb nők váltották egymást az Oszmán Birodalom előkelőségei között. A Nők szultánátusát a Tulipán éra követte, mely az egyik legbékésebb időszaka volt a birodalom történetének, és mely során elindult a nyugatosodás a birodalomban.

Felhasznált források: B. İ. Argıt - A Queen Mother and the Ottoman Imperial Harem: Rabia Gülnuş Emetullah Valide Sultan (1640-1715); M. Ç. Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları, Y.Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar, N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları; M. Özgüleş - The Women Who Built the Ottoman World: Female Patronage and the Architectural Legacy of Gülnuş Sultan; H. G. Majer - The Harem of Mustafa II (1695-1703); J. Dumas - Les perles de nacre du sultanat; A. D. Alderson - The Structure of the Ottoman Dynasty; L. Peirce - The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire; C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire

#Emetullah Rabia Gülnüş #emetullah rabia gulnus #emetullah rabia #emetullah #rabia #rabia gülnüş #gülnüş #gulnus #Mehmed IV #turhan hatice sultan #turhan hatice #turhan #ibrahim I #sultanate of women #Ahmed II #mustafa ii #ahmed iii #Süleyman II #Suleiman II #ayşe hafsa #Haseki Hürrem Sultan #ayse hafsa sultan #haseki nurbanu sultan #nurbanu valide sultan #Nurbanu Sultan #haseki safiye sultan #Safiye #safiye sultan #handan sultan #halime sultan

[soulwillower]

boyfriend stuff • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)      

requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!

6k words yowza

♡

"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again  kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.  

"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.

you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.

you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?

"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.

"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."

"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.

this boy was ridiculous.

he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.

he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."

you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"

he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.

"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"

"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal."  he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."

you fake a gag.

x

somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street.  you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.

the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.

"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.

"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.

his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.

richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.

"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."

he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.

"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.

you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.

you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.

"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.

"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"

he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.

"let's do this, y/n/n."

x

you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.

his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.

then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.

you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.

and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.

throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.

you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.

but here, at home...

god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.

he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.

the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.

x

it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.

you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.

"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.

"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.

"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."

you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.

he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines,  "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.

"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."

"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."

you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.

richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.

x

the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.

earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.

"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.

you just really, really liked richie.

shit.

so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.

"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."

you nudge him, "speak for yourself."

richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."

you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"

she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.

"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.

"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.

oh.

you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together.  you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.

"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.

it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change. 

"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.

you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom. 

the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.

without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.

you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.

"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot. 

"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.

"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.

"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again

"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you. 

you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.

and to want more.

"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.

but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.

"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.

"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.

richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries. 

his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room. 

"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.

and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-

"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.

you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?

munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her. 

richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.

"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."

richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.

it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school. 

your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.

you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.

you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark. 

"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.

you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly. 

x

when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.

 after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.

"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.

"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward. 

he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."

you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.

"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.

"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.

he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?

he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.  

you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.

"of course you do, rich, but we-"

the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.

why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.

so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.

holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.

just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it. 

you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.

he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.  

you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you. 

yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.

“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink,  your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie.  as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"

"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.  

he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?

your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.

your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.

"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.

right. it was for practice.

he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“

you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle. 

your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.

"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.

when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."

you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."

he rocks back on his heels. 

"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"

you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.

"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."

you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving. 

"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.

"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.

"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."

you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."

he kisses you, then.

it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.

"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."

"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.

//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman​ @diorbubs @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie x reader #richie tozier smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #my writing

[too-scared-to-do-this]

Prestige

Chapter twelve - No

Sanders side fanfiction

Idea by: @hestianerd1

Wordcount: 3490

Pairings: Prinxiety (as always)

TW: cursing and a bunch of friendly competition, also there is this thing about being forced to wear clothes that they are not totally comfortable wearing... I feel like that’s all, but as always, do let me know if anything bothers you :3

The summery of the whole story: Prestige. Such a simple construct. All you have to do is act the way you want people to perceive you, keep up the image, wear a big proud smile and never ever dare make a mistake. That’s why Weltingston Heights University is such a well known school. Everybody knows that anyone who got in must have some prestige tied to their name. Educational records, family history, or even literal fame. So why not treat students the same way? Because what’s a little more pressure on their young and strong bones?

But prestige and image are precious things. You slip up even the tiniest bit, step out of the line you drew for yourself and it’s all gone. So now that the pressure is on, and everyone already knows their place in this small circle of society, only one question remains. How far are they willing to go to keep the false image up?

(Or: Very over-dramatically with a noticeable amount of sarcastic undertone: "Oh my god! They were roommates!")

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

Chapter twelve - No

“No.”

“Come on maaan. You can keep the hoodie for all I care. Just put it on.” Cassie sighed exasperatedly. They were currently standing in her room, Virgil staring at the clothing hanging from her hands.

“What even makes you think that it’ll fit me?” Virgil razed an eyebrow and pointed at the material with a doubtful finger.

Cass looked at it, then back at him with a confident smile. “Well. You’re like my height. Skinnier than me, so… It’ll probably hang a little, though.”

V’s eyebrows knitted together in whatever emotion he was currently feeling. Not even he could tell what that was, but it wasn’t excitement. Turning to the mirror by his side he eyed the make-up Ro’s little sister already forced up on him. Not anything too much, just some mascara, shades an eyeliner. She even went with the emo look he was sporting thanks to his deep eye bags. (Let it be known, that they’ve gotten a little better since he’s been living with the Velez’s. A few good nights of sleep next to Ro and they suddenly seem to be disappearing. Who would have thought.)

To be honest, he kind of liked it - the make-up, he means. Cass was really great with a brush for someone who hadn’t warn make-up once since they met (which wasn’t that long, to be fair). Even the tiny details she did - the magical way the liner curled; not in a ‘normal’ way, but rather in a what seemed like a teeny-tiny butterfly wind. And of course, the glitter. The small amount of glitter she used did it for Virgil. He’s eyelids freaking sparkled!

He looked back at her with lowered lids. “I’m not doing it.”

“Seriously?” her shoulders sunk. Expression all ‘I’m so going to force you into this if you don’t wear it willingly and I so don’t feel like doing that…’.

Honestly, our boy should have been shitting his pants at this point. Because he knew she would go through with it. There is not a single person scarier than Cassandra Velez when she wants something. And believe me, she will get it. No matter the cost. But our boy was just as much stubborn as stupid. So he set his jaw and said: “No.”

The almost taller girl pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. Then looked up at V, sad resignation in her eyes. “You’re choice dude.”

There’s no way to describe what went down in the next ten minutes… Virgil had no idea what was coming his way.

He ended up standing perfectly still, eyes wide with full on terror, in front of the mirror, as Cass perfected the hem of the dress and some random details on him. Whistling and smiling as if a fifteen-year-old girl force-dressing a twenty-three-year-old man into a dress was a normal part of her day.

He didn’t even dare to speak after all the horror that just went down…

Cass stood up, grinning widely. “Great! My work here is done.” she dusted of her hands as if there was actually something on them. Virgil was pretty sure there wasn’t. “What do you think?”

She stepped away and for the first time Virgil saw himself in a dress. A very fancy rufly dress, might he add. He swallowed. “Ahm… I think it’s… nice?”

“I do too.” The girl nodded proudly. But then her eyes fixated on something above his face. Another wave of fear run down V’s back. He froze as she slowly walked over to him and wordlessly played around with his purple locks.

She pulled her hand way and smiled. “Now your perfect.” she nodded to herself. “I’ll go announce the beginning, stay here until I call your name, got it?”

V bit his glossed lips and nodded obediently. Cass did too and walked over to the door. Pulled it open, stepped out and just before the wood would fully fall closed, she peaked her head back in. “Oh and one more thing.” she looked straight at V, look as seriously (and menacing) as before. “Don’t you dare fuck up my work.” And with that she threw a giggly smile, as innocent as a six-year-old and with an ‘Okay, bye.’ left.

Virgil stood there for a long while until his heart finally stopped trying to murder him by escaping through his chest.

Meanwhile both brothers were in they separate rooms doing all the stuff they needed to feel as beautiful as possible. Not that Remus cared how he looked, but this was a competition after all. And who would pass up a chance to crush Roman’s massive ego a little?

Roman was more focused on getting his liner right. He was ready half an hour ago, but then he noticed that his right eye had a thicker red line then his left. And all hell broke loose.

Makeup-wipes all over the ground, brushes and liners and lipsticks and shadows all around the place. Literally. They even ended up on the ceiling-lamp (don’t ask Roman how that happened).

So when Cassie called out for everyone to gather, he was just so-so done. He told her off and asked for five more seconds, but the little annoying monster barged in - no regards for privacy - and literally dragged him away from his make-shift make-up station. He just barely managed to pull out the line (thankfully perfectly) and drop the closed bottle of liquid-liner onto his bed.

His little sister dragged him out into the living room, instructions being, everybody ways with closed eyes. Because we love dramatics in this family, don’t we? Oh and, V still wasn’t allowed out of her room, obviously.

But now, that they were all here, Cass stepped aside, sitting down at the bar and grinned. “Let the games begin.”

Both opened their eyes, surveying the competition, before sitting down on the prepared stools.

The self-acclaimed judge walked into the middle of the room (questioning why the hell did she sit down in the first place) and gave a big grin. Holding onto a hair-brush she gave an expert TV grin. “I welcome you to the fifth annual Velez fashion show! Another wonderful year has passed and here we are gathering again on the beautiful occasion.”

Roman looked around a little nervously, trying to find his roommate. But he had no idea where he was… His shoulders sagged a little, but this was a competition. He could let anybody know he was off his game.

“Today are competitors are the always charming, always smiling fairytale-like prince, Roman Velez!” she called out, pointing to her brother, who stood up with a big TV-grin of his own and waved at no one. Remus clapped enthusiastically, following Cassie’s lead.

“And give a warm welcome to our next competitor! You know him, you love him! It’s the murder-driven always laughing crazy green monstrosity, Remus Velez!”

Roman clapped a slow dramatic clap. Remus turned a playful glare at him.

Cass just smiled at this even more. She knew what was coming next, but they didn’t. And that power was something she lowed immensely. “But that’s not all that we have for today, ladies and gentleman and everyone above! No.” she shook her head seriously. “Today, on our yearly show, we have a special guest. He’s always broody, always moody, loves his hoodie and purple - give a big applause for our special guest, Virgil Riet!!!”

 That’s when the door to Cassie’s door opened and a very self-conscious Virgil stepped into the living-room light. Ro’s hoodie pulled tight around his chest to cover him up as much as possible.

Roman’s eyes widened. he didn’t expect V to look that great in a dress. He didn’t even expect him to be wearing a dress let alone a full face of make-up! his tiny form fully swallowed in his hoodie, the bottom of cases dress peaking out. Stocking covering his slim legs. And the make-up. the make-up! (He wondered if v was scared for life from that experience…)

“Come in, come in! Sit down with us.” Cass ushered him to his prepared seat. “You’re our special guest today, boy, don’t shy away from attention. Our show will begin shortly.”

V pulled hard on the zipper-lines of his new-found-favorite-hoodie ad walked over to sit between the staring twins.

“You look like a hooker!” Remus observed with a happy grin.

“No he doesn’t!” the remaining siblings piped up, both a tad bit too defensive. One because this was her work Rem was insulting and the other because this was his friend/roommate/possibly-giant-crush he was insulting.  

And Virgil just shrunk into himself even more. He didn’t even dare to look up. Otherwise, he would see that both boys looked just as much fancy as he did. There was no need to be ashamed.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen and everyone above! First up is our lovely nut-job, Remus. Show us what you got.”

rem immediately got up, walking the space of the living room as if it was a runway.

“Our beloved green monster, never seems to not surprise! This special day he went with his signature color-combo, wearing a black spiked leather jacked over a purposefully torn dark-green V-neck. Chains are a must with this man, hanging from his neck just as from his bedazzled black-washed torn jeans. Combat-boots to top it off. And let’s no forget the plethora of leather bracelets and of course the make-up he is sporting.” Cass commented.

Remus did a pirouette, meant as a mockery of Roman, obviously and bowed deeply, signature grin not missing.

“Great round today, Remus. I loved all the details - the drumstick in you pocked especially. You get an eight from me. Virgil, our guest judge -“ she turned to him. “-what do you say?”

Virgil blinked a little, trying to figure out what role he was playing in this insanity. “Ehrm…” he cleared his throat. “Seven…?”

“Aaaalright! You, Rem, gained fifteen points! Great job! Let’s see out next competitor.”

Rem sat down proudly, smirking at his brother. “Top this bro-Ro.”

“Oh, just wait and see.” he smirked back a little too confident compared to how he felt inside. he was about to go parade his ass in front of Virgil. His Virgil. this was going to be the end of him…

“Roman Velez, come up here, dude! Let’s see what you’ve got!” Cass stepped aside.

He stood up, as graceful as ever and glided over to the big carped - the designated cat-walk.

“Oooh, nice. Today our fairy prince came up with the perfect outfit to represent him. Dress as flowy as ever, red like his fierce fiery eyeliner! And the white stilts! Love the boa Ro, but that was the winners two years ago - are you recycling ideas, bro?”

Ro gave a triumphant grin and stretched his leg out from the thigh-slit that run ap his long sparkly dress. “Not at all, Cass. No angels today. We’re playing dirty.”

“I see, I see. The devil today then, hah?” she grinned at the fishnets that pocked out. On the sidelines, Virgil went completely red.

Ro ran a hand through his perfectly stilled hair to reveal small horns and grinned at the judge. “Full-on, sis.”

“Nice touch. I like it.”

Ro did a fancy stop, posed, and blew a kiss at Virgil. Very much feeling himself in the element. The poor short guy almost fainted at the sight. You have no idea the confidence that radiated off of Roman. The happiness. And Virgil reveled in it all, trying to swallow as much of it as possible.

“Alright people. Time for judging! I love you Roman, but today was a little disappointing. Although I loved the never-before seen make-up on you and the fishnet twist, I just don’t see you winning today, I’m sorry. I give you six points.”

“Thank you judge Cassandra.” Roman nodded solemnly. It gnawed at him a little.

“But don’t sweat it, dear, because there’s one more judge waiting for his turn.” Cass winked at V. He was a little (a lot) out of it, jaw almost literally slack open. “So, what do you say? tell me, what did you like about this contestant?”

“I-“ he swallowed. “I liked the slit…”

Jesus! did he just say that?!

Remus burst out laughing next to him, cackling his ass off.

Red as a bell-pepper Virgil shrunk back into his seat. “Nine.”

“Uuh, look at this, ladies and gentlemen and everyone above! For the first time in years, we have a tie!” Cass stepped back into the middle, moderating the whole thing as before. She would be an excellent moderator, Virgil though.

“I congratulate both contestants! they both did a great job! But don’t go anywhere, people, because we have our guest here to show off my stilling job! Come up here, Virge. Let’s see what the contestants have to say!”

Roman was already gone the moment he walked into the room. But seeing V take a deep breath and standing up onto the ‘runway’ in his loose jacked draped over a black sport-dress with a white strip on the sides and his black sneakers he might have just died right on the spot.

“Today, our lovely college boy sports my favorite tube dress, hugging him in all the right places. I’m literally jealous how good it looks on him! Better on him then me! Unfair! But look at his gorgeous face and the black butterfly-winged liner. I even stilled your hoodie in, Ro.” she winked at him.

Ro just wordlessly nodded, ogling V with big dreamy eyes. “I…can see…”

“Also, notice the earrings. I want praise for that, because getting those on him was a fight!”

“Oh my fuck! Did she pull the whole thing on you?” Remus burst out laughing once again.

V was already opening his mouth to deny all of it, but the little snitch beat him to it: “Yes. Yes, I did.” His head fell low, cheeks pricking red. This was too embarrassing…

Cass cackled at the sigh, as the witch she was and turned back to their audience. “Alright boys, our shy contestant won’t stand much longer. Show him some love - how many points would you give him?”

Remus leaned in, hands on knees. Eyes thin as slits, running over every Cassie-made detail of his attire. He then looked at the expectant designer/moderator and leaned back all un-Remus-like (all serious and shit). Twirled his mustache between two fingers. “You look like a bitch.”

“That’s what I was going for, thank you.” Cass smiled. “Points?”

“Nine.”

Little sister literally jumped up with a happy fist in the air. This was her best outfit by far. And she was too happy to dwell on the fact that it looked way better on his tiny ass then it ever would on her.

Don’t get her wrong, she was almost as skinny as Virgil, but as curvy as humanly possible. And although the dress looked good on her, this kind of combo just wouldn’t. And that made her sad. But then again, she wouldn’t pull of her brothers’ outfits either. You needed that personality for those. And boobs. She didn’t have those either. (Not that the boys had any…)

Roman sat in his chair too scared to even open his mouth. Blatantly standing at the slowly crumbling V. He could see the tiny rapid movements of his fingers even through the fabric layer of Ro’s hoodie. And the evading looks he gave everything else but the ‘judges’.

He wondered what he was thinking. Because Roman sure as hell wasn’t thinking straight. No PG13 thought in his head.

But he couldn’t say that out loud now, could he? So, he decided to do the best thing he could - act. He leaned back just as his brother did, legs and arms crossed, a surveying look on his face. “You did well today, sis. But I feel like those shoes could have goon a different way…”

Not really. he liked them a lot. He wished V would wear dresses more often. It really looked good on him.

“None of mine fit him! this man has impossibly small feet!” the designer protested exasperatedly. Virgil turned a deep red at that. She was right… She made him try on he heals but they ended up being a bit too big…

“Hon, we both know it’s not his feet that’s the problem. Your elephant shoes wouldn’t even fit me.” Remus chimed in as always. His comment very appreciated.

“Go to hell, Remus! My feet aren’t that big!” Cassie glared at her brother.

Roman just smirked. “Alright. Otherwise, I like your combination. I give you a nine as well.”

“Oh my god, ladies and gentleman and everyone above! I guess we have a winner then! For the first time in three years, our humble moderator wins the annual Velez fashion show, placing her design at a towering eighteen points!” She grinned at no-one in-particular. then she turned back to her brothers and smirked. “You can suck it losers! Ha!”

By the time she was doing her little victory dance, Virgil had scrambled back into his seat, folding back into himself.

“And this is why we never let her win.” Roman grumbled to himself, watching his little sister dance around like a maniac.

“She get’s it from you.” V shrugged.

“What?” Ro turned on him with wide, fake-surprised, fake-offended eyes.

But the darkling just shrugged. “You heard me.”

It wasn’t long after that the four had shared a trophy ice-cream bowl (Cass didn’t want to share, but she was still the youngest and didn’t have much choice). Now they were all in their respective rooms, trying to get rid of the make-up and all the unnecessary layers of clothing.

Virgil was pacing around Ro’s room, too hopped up on nervous energy and embarrassment to sit down. Already out of the dress, but still in Ro’s oversized hoodie and comfy joggings (also Ro’s, by the way - they scrunched up at the bottom in the most adorable way). He was barefoot so every step was audible on the hardwood floor.

Roman was at his little make-shift station washing off the make-up. Virgil had already done so - even though it was done kind of shitty-ly.

“You looked really grate today.” Ro commented, smearing the beautiful liner he worked so hard on.

His roommate froze in his tracks. Cheeks pink. “You think so?”

“Very much. You should wear dresses more often. And make-up suits you, though I think your face is pretty enough without it.”

He just threw that out there, while looking like a panda from the smudges. As if this wasn’t one of the nicest things a human being has ever said to V. The guy couldn’t even wait to be finished with what he was doing!

Virgil stood there, shell shocked, face redder than a tomato for the hundredth time today. “Thanks… I guess…?”

“Oh, you’re very welcome!” Ro turned around in his stool, grinning brightly. And that’s when he noticed the very obvious smudges that were still on V’s pretty little face. He bit back a snickered. “Come over hear.”

Virgil immediately went even redder and that made Ro laugh. “Oh, don’t be stupid. Just come here.”

The shorter did as he was told, carefully walking over to his friend. Ro patted the bed next to him and v sat down obediently. “You obviously never wore make-up before.” he snickered.

V didn’t even dare as much as take a breath. Because Ro’s hand was inching towards his face. A cotton swab in his hand. And suddenly he was holding his chin so delicately, washing off the remains of his black mascara and liner.

Electricity sprung from the pales their skin connected. And Virgil couldn’t help but stare at those beautiful green eyes that were so focused on his hands.

His gaze slipped from them to the dark, lipstick bit lips, caught between Ro’s teeth. He was chewing on them subconsciously, the way he always was when he was focused.

It scared Virgil how much he waned to taste those lips. To ease the pain they were in with his own. And it also scared him how much of his attention he wanted the moment he walked out on the make-shift stage. How his focus was solely on his words and face and eyes and expression and what he thought about him.

Oh, how it drove him crazy, the thought that Roman could like him in a dress. And that he thought his face was more beautiful without make-up.

How easy it would be just to lean in and steal that sweet kiss. How easy it would be to just place his hand on his, stopping the careful motion and take what he’s been wanted for weeks now.

How easy would be to just-

Virgil’s lips collided with Roman’s and everything around him ceased to exist.

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

Oooooooooooh! Thins are going downnnnnn!!!! (About time after twelve chaps XD)

I won’t even apologize because this disappearing will be somewhat normal from now on. (School’s kicking my ass...) Let’s just be happy I finished this chap :D But as compensation, I’m making art for this one. Three pieces of (hopefully) colored art, so stay tuned ;D

But I do hope you enjoyed this mostly meaningless chap XD <3 

Read ya <3 ;*

Tag list:

@a-formless-entity

@cirishere

@ray-does-stuff

@lovelivingmydreams

@mothman-juicy-ass

@akatsuki-no-katira

#prestige #Virgil Riet #roman velez #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts anxiety #anxiety sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts creativity #creativity sanders #dark creativity sanders #the duke #duke sanders #ts duke #intrusive thoughts #ts remus #remus sanders #prinxeity #prinxiety #thomas sanders #sander's sides #what else should I tag

[harrystylesleftkneecap]

Candy Coated

(JJ X Reader)

Summary- After relentless teasing from her friends, y/n gets upset. when JJ doesn’t stand up for her, she decides he needs to be reminded what she is capable of. 

WARNINGS : SMUT, oral ( male receiving) , Slight Bondage, blindfolds, socks in mouths lmao 

A/N: this was requested, and I hope you like :) I can do other fandoms, just request whatever and if I am apart of the fandom I will deliver. LMK what you wanna see. Wrote this kinda fast, sorry for mistakes and whatnot. 

The cool autumn air wouldn’t stop you all from throwing a kegger. With the addition of a larger bonfire than usual, and added spiked cider, the windy beach was the perfect setting for a nice kickback.

You, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kie were standing around the bonfire, admiring the successful get-together you had created.

“You know, I never thought you would be able to plan such a good party y/n.” John b chirped, taking a sip of his poorly mixed drink.

You smiled your long hair blowing in the breeze.Your cheeks burned as the icy air relentlessly blew against them.

“She doesn’t seem like the type to know so much about these things,” Pope added.

You all fell into a useless conversation, and JJ moved closer to you pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“You okay bub?” You asked him.

He hummed in response, and Sarah could be seen moving towards you in the distance.

“Hey, baby.” John B smiled, pulling her to his body.

“Woah Sarah, what's on your neck?” Kie Joked, eyeing the dark purple marks that littered her skin.

“Seriously Sarah, you could have covered those up! Y/n is here, her virgin eyes don’t need to be exposed to those kinds of things.” John B laughed.

Everyone looked at you as you rolled your eyes, and downed the remaining liquid in your cup.

You weren't that much younger than them, but they all saw you as a little sister. Well, besides JJ.

You and JJ had been dating for a while now, and if he saw you as a sister your relationship would be a little odd.

“ ‘m not a virgin guys, you know this.” You mumble, causing JJ to chuckle as he watched the conversation happen around him.

“Yeah yeah, whatever kid.” Pope quipped, only adding to your frustration.

“Guys I’m not!” You huffed, only earning you more laughter when JJ interjected.

“Hey leave her alone, you’re making her blush.”

You groaned in annoyance. It’s not hard to believe that you were a virgin. On the outside, you were a sweet little angel. You dressed rather conservatively for the outer banks, often sporting leggings and a T-shirt over the popular bikini. You avoided conflict as much as you could, and when someone asked for help you could never decline. Nothing less than straight A’s, and you never joined in as others spoke of their sexual endeavors. 

Although JJ doesn’t seem the type that would go for more reserved girls, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You were absolutely intoxicating, your sweet outside the perfect candy coating for a rather sinful center. 

The first time JJ had gotten intimate with you, he expected it to be pretty straight forward and rather vanilla. But when you had suddenly taken control, and sunk down on top of him. He knew he had you all wrong. 

You had explored many different things. You’ve had sex everywhere in the chateau, yes, even in John B’s bed. JJ’s fingers often found their way plunged into your leggings on movie nights with the gang, and yours loved to caress over his member during dinner at the wreck. 

Tired of the relentless teasing of the group, you pulled JJ away from the bonfire and towards the chateau. 

“Uh oh, they’re gonna go kiss and hold hands! “ John B teased, smirking as you yanked JJ through the sand. 

“Baby, they’re just messing with you.” JJ said as you flung the door to the chateau open. 

“I don’t care.” You huffed, pulling him into his spare bedroom. 

Locking the door behind you, you pulled the taller boy into a rough kiss. 

“What’s gotten into you.” He mumbled against your lips. And you responded by abruptly grabbing his hardening dick. 

He gasped involuntarily, and you use whatever strength your small frame has to push him to the bed. 

Pulling away, you breathed out, “Take off your clothes.”

He raised his eyebrows to you.

“Do it. Now JJ.” You snapped. 

He quickly tore his shirt over his head, following with is cargo shorts and shoes. 

Completely bare, he moved backwards to the head board, stomach churning in anticipation. 

Grabbing his belt off the floor, you beckoned him to raise his hands. 

He did as told, and you fasted them above his head to the headboard. 

His tip was slowly  leaking precum, his shaft aching for you to touch him. 

You lightly ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the sultry liquid he was producing. 

“C’mon babe, you’re taking too long.” He whined, moving his legs desperately. 

You laughed, slightly enjoying his petty suffering. If he wasn’t going to stand up for you, he needed to be reminded what you were actually capable of. 

You rummaged through drawers until you came across a black bandanna, and straddled his waist to tie it around his eyes. 

“Is this about what they were saying out there? Baby i-”

“Shut up JJ, not now.” 

You rand your hands along his tanned torso, pulling goosebumps from every inch of his skin. 

He groaned as you raked your nails across his abdomen, slowly scooting back against his legs to reach his now rock hard member. 

You took him in your hand and slowly stroked him up and down. 

“Cmon baby, please, I’m sorry.” He whined, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“JJ, hush before I shut you up myself.” You spat.

He whimpered in response, silently begging for you to move faster. 

Eventually, you gathered spit into your mouth and let it fall over his aching tip. 

He greeted your warm saliva with a low mewl. 

“JJ, no noise. I’m not telling you again.” 

You wrapped your lips around him, pushing him deep into your mouth. You circled your tongue over the pulsing tissue, and hummed as you pulled it out with a ‘pop’. 

As if you were urging  him to make noise, you drug your nails down his sides. 

This was torture to the poor boy beneath you, but you couldn’t enjoy this any more than you already were. 

You bobbed your head painstakingly slow, allowing the heat to course painfully through his veins for what seemed like ages. 

You felt him begin to tense beneath you, but before he could release you let his dick retreat from your mouth. 

“What-” He began, but you quickly interrupted. 

“I though I said no noise?” You taunted. Crawling off of his body and making your way back to the dresser. You searched until you found what you were looking for. You grabbed the fabric in your hand, and slowly walked back over to the writhing boy. 

You straddle him once more, and grabbed his chin in your petite hands. 

From an outside point of view, this sight was unbelievable. A small frail temptress completely controlling a much larger boy. JJ could just not resist when it came to you. 

“Next time, how about you tell them about this little experience you had, okay?” You teased, pressing your swollen lips to his. 

You pulled away slowly, “Now open baby.”

“What-”

Before he could finish his question, you slid the fabric of a sock into his mouth.

“I really hope this is clean.” You giggled, as an astonished JJ struggled under your frame.

You attached your lips to his neck, sucking harshly as he continued to pitifully whine. 

“I told you no noise and you didn’t listen, so I took care of it myself.” You told him, lightly caressing his cheek. 

“Now,” You spoke standing, “I’ll come back for you shortly.” You smirked, 

JJ let out muffled protests, and you threw a small pillow over his crotch because you knew he would have a visitor shortly. 

You walked out of the chateau smiling, and made your way back to your friends.

The lack of your shadow caused confusion to spread across popes face, “Yo, where’s JJ?” He questioned. 

“Oh, he’s in his room, he actually told me to tell you to go see him real quick.” You responded, a smirk creeping its way onto your face.  

pope stood from his seat and made his way to the chateau to find his friend. 

“I know that look y/n, what did you do?” Kie asked knowingly. 

“Oh, I was just a little upset that he didn’t stand up for me, we talked it out.”

Before anyone could respond, a loud scream echoed from the chateau, causing you to laugh. 

“y/n, Oh My God!” Sarah giggled.

soon enough, two embarrassed boys made their way to the bonfire where you were all talking amongst yourselves. 

“Guys, Y/N is definitely not a virgin, and now I’m scarred.” Pope spoke shakily, a flushed JJ coming from behind him. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” John B quizzed. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it man, Just don’t ever make y/n mad.” Pope shuddered. 

JJ sat down beside you and you turned to him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you,” He whispered, and you smiled sweetly at him. 

“But, “he continued, “You are so going to get it later.” 

Your smile faltered as he sat back into his chair. 

“So today we learned that y/n is a force to be reckoned with.” Kie laughed, making everyone else follow suit. 

a force to be reckoned with indeed. 

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj imagine #jj x reader #pope heyward #john b imagines #kie #outer banks smut #outer banks #smut #jj maybank imagine

[yandere-daydreams]

More Apollo with the reader, please? Maybe this is when he finally snaps and just.. takes her

It took more self-restraint that it should’ve to keep from just making everything gold. And for the sake of clarification, the Reader-Insert is a follower of Artemis, or… they used to be, at least (see this post, for elaboration).

TW: Mentions of Physical Injury, Intimidation, Jealousy and Violence.

~

Everything hurt, when you woke up.

Your head was pounding, pain echoing from the base of your spine to your temples, only growing more intense as you tried to open your eyes. Despite your face being hidden in thick cloth, the light was blinding, biting into your retinas and casting the room in a blazing glow, as if the walls were made of suns, rolled out and flattened into rock. You wondered if you should try to keep it blocked out, if there was any way you could stumble your way to an exit before he noticed you’d gotten up, but your legs were nearly too sore to move from simply resting in front of you.

Groaning wasn’t an option, you nearly screamed into the cot you were laying on, your throat aching at the exertion alone. There wasn’t a part of your body that didn’t hurt, your joints loosely slotted together and patches of skin sewn in the vague shape of a person, sections too light and the rest too dense, as if someone had rearranged your organs. Somehow, you managed to roll over in your agony, the pain in your skull fading as you blinked, your gaze blurry and unfocused before the room you’d been left in came into focus. There was no visible source of light, but everything seemed to glow, everything that wasn’t a brilliant white coated in a layer of gold. The bareness didn’t help, seeming to close in on you and expand endlessly at the same time, save for the single, obsidian door. Just the idea of a material so heavy made your arms ache, the urge to roll over and sleep returning in full-force.

But, the weight only seemed to concern you. As you attempted to push yourself into a more respectable position, the man you’d been dreading appeared, his hand pushing through the entrance effortlessly, like solid stone was nothing more than hollow wood. The sight of him still surprised you, something holy seeming so common, so wrong, the God you’d been taught to revere and respect standing before you, sunlight swirling above his head and his form too big, the God far taller than anyone you’d ever laid eyes on. His skin was far too smooth, his hair braided with an inhuman intricacy, even Apollo’s clothes seeming to radiate an unearthly energy.

And yet, the pure concern written into his features was utterly human. 

You weren’t much better. The fear suddenly coursing through your veins was anything but godly.

If Apollo noticed, you weren’t able to tell. He did his best to relax as he moved towards you, opting to ignore the way you pressed yourself into the headboard as he got closer. His smile was wide, disconcerning, like a hunter attempting to comfort a wounded animal as he closed in for the kill. He didn’t say anything, not until he was at your bedside, resting a hand on the down-stuffed mattress before he took his seat. Still, he towered over you, your breathing quickly growing labored, frantic. Although you couldn’t quite remember what brought you here, you knew you didn’t want him here. You didn’t want him to touch you.

Apollo spoke softly, tentatively. “How are you feeling, (Y/n)?”

“Where the fuck am I?”

His expression faltered at your tone, the God reaching out, resting a hand on your shoulder. You tried to bat him away reflexively, but the effort was in vain, Apollo hardly flinching. “The temple, love, my temple. On Olympus.” He paused, letting you process the information. At your confusion, he only let out a slight chuckle. You could feel his fingertips trailing along your neck, lingering near your jaw as he traced patterns into whatever he could reach. His nails were longer than your own, painted with swirling patterns, but you couldn’t seem to focus on one trait, not when there was so much to take in. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Wait until you see the gardens, you’ll adore them, I had a new section planted to celebrate your arrival-”

“No.” Your own voice surprised you, the refusal coming out louder than you’d expected it to. Apollo didn’t react, but you backtracked immediately, drawing back and clenching the sheets in your fists as you spoke. “I don’t mean to disrespect you, my lord, but I need to return to my post. I’m dedicated to my Goddess, I can’t just… disappear. I don’t want to worry her-”

His hand was clamped around your chin before you could finish, his hold bruising and his grin remaining flawlessly, impossibly intact. Determined, you tried again to speak, only to find a gem-encrusted nail pushing against your lips, threatening to break through delicate skin at the hint of anything he didn’t care for. “I’m very aware of your standing with my sister,” He started, wincing at the mention of Artemis, as if her name in itself was a curse. “Don’t talk of her again, don’t think of her. Devote yourself to me, from now on. She’s unimportant, they’re all unimportant.”

You glared, given confidence from the insult. “Artemis is my savior. No one’s more important to me than her.”

At this, he laughed. His smile split and cracked, becoming something more akin to a sneer than a frown. The light in his eyes didn’t die, but golden irises took on a darker shade, an edge. The change shocked you, scared you, but you didn’t have time to react, not before your back was slammed against the nearest wall, your hands left to claw fruitlessly at his wrists as dark skin enveloped everything below your eyes, covering your mouth and muting any pleas you could’ve formed. “Keep her dirty name out of your mouth,” He mumbled, words muffled by grit teeth. “You already put up such a fight when I came to get you, do you really want to go through that again? You bled out so much, it was so ugly. You don’t want to be disgusting, do you?”

For a blissful moment, you didn’t know what he was talking about. But, as if he had been the one holding them hostage, your memories came flooding back, Apollo’s rage and the cliff and the fangs coming back in waves, all ending in paralyzing, unbearable pain, the tears following shortly after. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even whimper, going stiff as each healed cut and mended broken bone reminded you of its existence, smoldering under your skin, demanding your attention.

Apollo smirked as you stopped struggling, letting go of your jaw and letting you fall against his chest, fingers coming up to stroke through your hair. You hadn’t noticed it’d been styled, not until Apollo was toying with the tiny bells and chimes decorating your scalp. “I fixed you, don’t worry. It’ll only hurt when you misbehave.” Just as quickly as it’d come, the fire dissolved, your body cooling and going numb, leaving you to shake and sob in his hold. “The seems aren’t visible, the scarrings been repaired, you’re perfect. I made you perfect.”

You shook your head, but he was past the point of caring, only silencing you with another stroke, another chuckle, a fleeting kiss to the top of your head. “It’ll be wonderful, we’ll be wonderful, and if you make such hideous noises again…”

He stopped, pulling you towards him, resting his head on your shoulder. Letting his teeth, sharper than they should’ve been, graze too close to your neck.

“I’ll just tear you apart and put you back together until you’re beautiful, again.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompt #yanderecore #yandere core #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere male #male yandere #yandere scenerio #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere imgaines #yandere headcanons #yandere headcannons #yandere mythos #yandere gods #yandere god #yandere greek gods #yandere olympus #yandere fairy tale #yandere fairytale #yandere fantasy #yandere apollo #yandere apollo x reader #possessive #obsessive #obsesion

[dwellordream]

Moris Baratheon/Nettles for #9?

Nettles lands Shep in the hills behind the motherhouse, sure enough he will not go after their grazing cattle, since he’s eaten well at Maidenpool, a ram every morning and every night.

She proceeds down to the estate on foot, and for at least the duration of that brief walk, she could be a little girl again, roaming around Driftmark looking for something to eat, or better yet, steal so she could sell or barter it for a proper meal.

A cool rain is falling by the time she reaches the gate.

There is very little delay in admitting her entrance, as she has notes of passage and the gleaming obsidian pin that marks her as one of the true queen’s most leal on her velvet cloak- once she only ever dreamed of wearing velvet- and shortly thereafter she is escorted to a small dormitory room with no other furniture beyond a narrow cot, a dresser, and a simple writing desk, a few books and papers stacked atop it.

Maris Baratheon raises her blue-eyed gaze coolly to meet Nettles.

“You must be Lady Spice,” she says, setting down her book and smoothing the front of her plain grey smock.

As a novitiate, she has not taken her vows yet, and her hair is not hidden underneath a cowl or wimple, but confined to a thick black plait.

Nettles feels briefly at her own hair. The ivory hairbrush Daemon gave her is useless for it; it was made to brush out silken smooth locks or wavy ringlets, not Nettles’ voluminous coils.

“Or was it Mistress Hull?” Maris continues, a finger to her chin. “I can never quite recall. Either way, you are the dragonseed, correct? Our beloved prince’s new favorite.”

That unnerves Nettles. Could rumors have already spread so quickly? She had thought they were- she doesn’t know what she thought.

Frequently, in Daemon’s company, it is expressed to her just how little she knows, how naïve and backwards he thinks her, as much as it seems to charm him.

When she told him, rather defiantly, that she was no maid and he ought not to think he would be some great teacher of love to her, he only laughed and said it had no bearing on her innocence.

That is what he likes about her, she is beginning to think. Not so much her fire or her sharp tongue or her willful ways, but how innocent and pure he deems her.

Untouched by politics or intrigue. The stumbling novice he must educate on the proper ways of a lady.

When they return to King’s Landing he says he shall outfit her as a great lady, that she will have her own manse and precious jewels and he will visit her every night.

She asked where Shep would stay, and he only looked as her as though she were a silly little girl and said the dragonpit, of course.

She thinks of him chained down, her poor brown old man, her Sheepstealer, and it makes her feel sick.

“What, you thought we had no gossip here? Contrary to men’s beliefs, a still tongue can convey as much as a wagging one,” Maris says lightly, scooting forward on the cot and then rising to her full height, nearly a head taller than Nettles.

“It only pleases them to think we are reduced to lifeless dolls in their absence. Now, tell me true, I hear your prince is hunting for Aemond’s head. But why should I know where he’s run off to?”

“Well, my lady,” Nettles says, “he is betrothed to your sister.”

Maris scoffs. “That marriage is about as likely to happen as pigs are to fly.” Nettles can tell she is glad of it by the sharp gleam in her eyes.

“If you have any information,” Nettles says, “your… time here might… come to an end. The queen has that power.”

“Look at this,” Maris mocks, “a dragonseed speaking with the tongue of a wyrm. They say you all share the same one, in truth. Who told you to say that, my sweet Lady Spice? Daemon Blackheart? Promises are just ashes on the wind to men like him. They sign on the line and burn the paper a heartbeat later.”

Her gaze turns scrutinizing, and the lines of her hard mouth soften slightly as she looks Nettles over, less contemptuous and more… considering. “What has he promised you? You seem a sweet thing-,”

“I am seventeen and a woman grown,” Nettles snaps, raising her chin, even if it shows off her slit nose and her pockmarked face, and straightening her shoulders. “I am no man’s sweet thing. Now, if you’ve nothing for me, I should be on my way-,”

Maris sobers, it seems to her, and takes her hand, unbidden. As if to comfort her. Nettles almost tears her hand away, but Maris Baratheon’s is soft and warm, unlike her cold tones and sharp words. It seems very unfair she should have such lovely hands.

“I have one thing for you,” she says. “And do not think I pity you, only- I heard your dragon land, Nettles of Driftmark. Had I a dragon, I should live short but live well. Fly while you can. And do not give it up for any man, prince or beggar.”

She leans in closer, so Nettles can smell her breath and feel it tickling her ear, and whispers, “Harrenhal.”

#maris baratheon #nettles #ask #anon #ask game #the dance

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader. Requested (A/n- I know huge age gaps aren’t for everyone, but alas, it is the bases of this series. Warnings will be included on a chapter by chapter basis. This is sort of a half chapter to set the tone between the two, next week, things are bumped up a few notches. For more info, you can heck out the series summary here) 

Prologue

“Stop doing that,” Walter warned as he sank down next to her on the plush grey sofa in the private waiting room. They were in Los Angeles, at a popular studio; Y/n had recently gotten a part in an action film, where she’d play a nurse who had found a rogue C.I.A operative bleeding out near her apartment. It was seemingly your run of the mill; young girl getting caught up with an older guy, damsel in distress, high action movie, but her agent; Walter thought it would be a good way to transition onto the big screen as the television show that she starred in came to a close after six seasons. 

Y/n’s head snapped up, turning to face him, her eyes wide, “Doing what? I’m not doing anything!” She frowned, though she knew exactly what he was talking about; Y/n hand been wringing her fingers since they were in the car, on the way to the studio. Walter had been her manager since she started her career at sixteen and knew her almost as well as her own father; he could tell when she was doing one of her nervous ticks, even the subtle ones.

The graying man chuckled, offering her one of the disposable cups filled with coffee, which might not have been the best choice of beverage when one was already vibrating with nervous anticipation, “Here, drink this. And try not to spill anything on that top; Grace,” her stylist, “Will kill us both if you do.”

“I won’t,” Y/n grumbled, “I’m not a kid, you know,” she rolled her eyes, bringing the scalding hot latte to her lips.

“Relax,” Walter went on, “I know,” he sighed, drinking from his own coffee before he continued, “I guess I’m nervous too, my wife says that I micro-manage when I’m nervous.”

At that, Y/n chuckled and slowly, the knot in her stomach starting to loosen, “She’s right. The last time we were here you kept asking me if I was sure I wasn’t cold.”

“It was raining and the A.C was on,” he defended, “What the hell is taking them so long?”  Walter grumbled lowly after a couple minutes.

“We’re early,” Y/n reminded, “There’s still,” she glanced at her phone in her lap, “Fifteen minutes.”

Sighing again, Walter didn’t respond, opting to deal with a few emails on his own phone; getting back to other clients and organizing her appearances for the week.

Keanu stood, near his car, smoking a cigarette while browsing through the excerpt of the script that they were using that morning. He had already read it through a couple times earlier that week but wanted to be sure that he had everything right. The scene was supposed to be the one where his character would meet his co-star’s; Y/n Y/l/n.

Prior to that day, Keanu had heard of the young girl and had seen her on television interviews in passing. Up until then, she had starred in drama series called Behind Lipstick which chronicled the life of a young model combating struggles with addiction, her mental health issues and the pressure of fame in the superficial world she lived in. Keanu himself had never watched the series but his sisters loved it and Y/n had even won a few Emmy's and Golden Globes for her performance. 

The film was supposed to be her introduction to the ‘movie’ side of things and while Keanu was excited and honored to star alongside her what was to be a milestone in her career, finding out that she was also supposed to be his love interest in the movie was still something that he was having trouble getting used to. She was just so young; twenty-two seemed so far away from fifty-five. “Hollywood has a daddy kink,” is what his agent had said when Keanu had first found out and while he could certainly see the appeal, he wasn’t sure if working with a woman that young was his wisest move. 

“Keanu!” Someone called from behind him, and he shook off his thoughts as the familiar female voice grew closer, “They’re almost ready to start.”

It was his agent Eleanor, a woman just about his age, who Keanu had worked with for most of his career, “Yeah, okay,” Keanu pushed off the side of his black Porsche, tossing the stub of his smoke to the ground stomping it out with the toe of his worn boot. At an unhurried pace, Keanu shoved his phone into his pocket, joining Eleanor as she headed back towards the large building in the near distance.

“Are you ready?” Walter asked quietly, close to Y/n’s ear as they took their seats at the long, varnished table. The conference room that the director had instructed them to meet at was a large one, with floor to ceiling windows that let the bright L.A sunshine in, the hint of warmth mellowing out the air-conditioning. It was a huge contrast from the window-less, flat-toned minimalist room that Y/n had auditioned in a few months prior.

“Of course,” Y/n nodded, shifting in the cushions of the leather chair. Laid out in the center table were several varieties of refreshments; hot water and over turned cups for tea and coffee, and a selection of finger foods. Though everything looked inviting, Y/n wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was far to nervous to eat and was certain that any more coffee would have her bouncing off the walls. 

Closer to the edges of the table, nearer to the seats; were copies of the script along with pencils. Not too long after Y/n and Walter had taken their place, an older woman in a well-fitting pale pink skirt suit, her heels clicking softly of the black tiles, entered. Close behind her, a taller man with dark hair falling just past his ears walked in, looking like every sin in a movie where the girl next door falls in love with the older man who just moved in; wearing a sport coat over the plain black t-shirt and dark jeans. Keanu fucking Reeves. He was still wearing his sunglasses, though the minute he walked in, he removed them, hooking the Prada shades on the ‘v’ of his t-shirt.

For some reason, though Y/n knew that they’d be in the movie together, she was still a little in awe of his presence at their scheduled table read. ‘Awe’ that Walter would argue was vastly misplaced; she had earned her place in Hollywood and through she hadn’t been in the business for as long as Keanu had , certainly her status should have granted her some immunity to being star-struck. If only that were true. 

Quietly, greetings were exchanged and to her surprise, Keanu took the seat directly to her left, shifting awkwardly to offer his hand, “Keanu,” he said briskly.

I know were the words she almost stuttered, but thankfully, she was able to sum up enough courage and push away her initial ‘breathless wonder’ and coolly return, “Y/n, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled politely. Keanu’s hand was large, easily swallowing hers up and was rougher than she expected, though the little embrace was still warm, welcoming and seemed genuine. 

At that, Keanu returned her smile with a faint one of his own, “The pleasure is mine,” he assured her. So he really was as humble as they said. 

The end of their introduction was met with a bout of awkward silence; Y/n was too shy to initiate a conversation and Keanu couldn’t think of a thing that he’d have to talk about with a girl her age. When the director; Jackson Gardener, a known name in the genre, walked in, they both straightened in their seats and quickly, another round of introductions were exchanged. 

Sinking into his seat, Jackson glanced between the two, pushing up his black-framed glassed up onto the bridge of his nose with the joint of his thumb. Jackson’s whitish-grey hair stuck out widely on all sides, looking severely wind tousled and his beard seemed to be overgrown. “I see you two have met,” he said, gruff and absent, shoving up the sleeves of his charcoal sweater, “Good,” he nodded, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into this.”

Y/n’s lips quivered; was he really just going to get started, no setting the scene, no background on their roles and not even a hint of what he was expecting from them? She was about to speak up, ask a question or two, when, surprisingly, Keanu put a tentative palm on her jean clad thigh, his eyes barely meeting hers as if to say, ‘its not worth it.’

Sucking in a nervous breath, Y/n nodded slightly in understanding, grateful that Keanu had possibly just saved her skin. Even after he moved his hand, the warmth of it lingered on Y/n’s leg and she had to fight the feeling that came with the thought of Keanu’s hands on her. Y/n wondered if every other woman who had come in contact with him felt like that. Trying to ignore the whole thing, she picked up the script and tried to immerse herself in the role, hoping that her flustered feelings weren’t seeping through. 

Thankfully, the table read was over in just under and hour and while Jackson’s praises were limited and were delivered with his same stoic tone and un-meeting eyes, he had been kind enough to let everyone go shortly after it was over, with promises that they’d all meet in the near future on location. 

Y/n was a few paces behind Walter in the parking lot when someone jogged up beside her, his long legs easily bringing him into pace with her steps; Keanu. “Hey,” he said, an she nearly jumped.

For the briefest second, Walter slowed down to turn round and look at them, though, quickly dismissing his concern when he saw it was Keanu. “Hey,” Y/n tried to smile, combating the reappearance of her nerves, “Uh....what’s up?” She couldn’t believe that he was speaking to her. Why was he speaking to her?

Keanu’s hands were in his pockets and his sunglasses blocked out the sun from his eyes, not mention adding to his cool, suave appearance. How could one man be afforded the opportunity to look that good in his fifties?

He towered over her, though Y/n supposed it was because she had opted to pair her light-washed ripped jeans and stylish button up with flat pumps, not aiding her small stature. Maybe it was because she was so nervous, or maybe it was just a part his nature that didn’t translate through the camera during interviews, but Keanu seemed more confident that she’d thought he’d be, seemingly not noticing what a nervous mess he was making of her. 

Removing one hand from his pocket to rake his nails through his short beard, Keanu thought on his words for a moment, before he eventually spoke again, “I just wanted to let you know; working with Jackson is gonna be a little tough; he can be kind of an asshole sometimes,” that was something she had quickly caught on to, “But don’t let him spook you, he’s really just one of those ‘crazed artist types’; lots of talk, loads of talent, but sometimes his head is so far up his ass that he forgets that he’s working with actual people,” at that, Keanu chuckled quietly, “The point is; don’t let him get to you. And if you wanna talk, I’d be happy to listen.”

They were approaching a black SUV and Walter was already waiting at the back door for Y/n, though, she knew that he’d give her the space that she needed. “Sure,” Y/n blushed despite herself, “Thanks.”

“No problem, why don’t you take my number, and I’ll take yours?” Keanu had already gotten his phone out and Y/n took a minute to do the same. Briefly, they exchanged devices and by extension; contacts. “Alright,” Keanu determined, reclaiming his cell, “Well, I've gotta get going, but I’ll see you around Y/n,” he quickly patted her shoulder and was already turning to walk off before she could muster up a dumbfounded goodbye.

She had just traded numbers with the Keanu Reeves.

It was about to be an eventful three months.

******

Tagging- @fickensteinn​  @harrisongslimited​  @babygirltaina​  @fanficsrusz​  @paanchu786​ 

#Keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #put me in a movie #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #fulff #angst #keanu reeves series #keanu reeves fanfiction

[merrickwccd]

& if you find me, will you know me?

                                            will you take me ? or will you fall?

closed / self para involving merrick, @thehollyxwood, @incendiarious & the uncreated but still existing in fairvale ethan jenkins, soon to be brought in  when / shortly after logan finds merrick  what / as if the world hasn’t already crashed down enough, not just one ex but two has shown up while holly’s sick.  a/n / a lot of exposition, some background on these fucking four idiots & their time apart, and a lot emo bitch hours 

she can barely hold herself together. 

she had notebooks full of trauma and rages, tears and exhaustions. insecurities and confidences, things she’d never say aloud but needed to let out. for so long now, she had locked up her high school years tight, put them away in the recesses of her mind and refused to give them more than the arbitrary thought. nostalgia was a bitch - especially in times like this. it was a liar, a fool, made everything seem like it was good, even the bad. 

a week ago, she could have easily told you that nothing would make her fall to her knees in desperation, that there was no way she would ever let logan norris wrap his arms around her. that seeing ethan jenkins surely wouldn’t make her heart jump in her chest, that her first two loves were merely that, figments of the past that had colored her relationships going forward. 

first, there had been dallas. a near replica of logan - athletic and cocky, earnest and cute when they were alone but not one to hide who he was. they had met at intramural softball, each determined to out-pitch the other. taller than the others, she had spent afternoons walking around new york city arguing abotu which team was better - the yankees or the braves - bringing him to their summer home in maine to fish and home to meet her mother in georgia. her father had liked him enough, though she knew he had a soft spot for her former boys. 

she never brought him around ethan, and logan had already disappeared from her life by then. social media ‘likes’ on posts, she’d seen him in ohio looking happy - she was determined to be the same in new york. 

but dallas had his own best friend, and his own feelings for her, and the situation had felt so painstakingly familiar - she saw the way he looked at parker, the same way logan had once looked at holly, that she pulled herself free. two years to late, perhaps, but she’d never been good at avoiding collateral damage. 

in her weakness, she’d written an email that never got sent. an i miss you, i’m sorry, can we please start over? but her sister and her were finally on good terms, she was on her last year at nyu, and for all she knew, logan was finding love of his own in ohio. 

so it sat in her drafts until she deleted it six months later, unsent. 

she channeled her emotions into a sea of stories, submitting them to publishers around the country. young adult style romances, the kind that filled hero wn bedroom back home, the kind that made the reader root for the two to get together, despite the odds. despite the casualties. 

too many of her leading men had sandy hair or striking eyes, while the other half had curls that were untamed and toothy smiles. 

asher worked with her in boston - a quiet, unassuming tech support guy who she bonded with over a love of sea monsters and cryptids. the two traveled around massachusetts, visiting salem and other haunted homes and towns, laughing and scaring one another with late nights curled up on her couch. a few almost brushes, a kiss here and there, but nothing ever spoken. 

she had always had a weakness for boys who were too smug for their own good, or too afraid of the complications to admit their feelings. if there was no jump to hurdle, what was the point? 

but asher had left before the first rumors began circling, on his way to california and a new life, and merrick had been left alone once again. wondering what it was she did wrong, another email - this time to a different address, now defunct she was sure because ethan had never been great at technology when they were constantly buzzing and sending things to one another. 

and the world had ended. and merrick had faced the truth : she loved love, maybe too much, stifling and clinging to it so tight that it continued to wreck her. there had only been one person she needed to hold onto now anyways, and together they packed the sensible sedan their parents had gifted them upon merricks’ arrival in boston, claiming the sisters needed a way to get around the city but really pleased just to see them together once again. they found colette, they found a home, and merrick pushed away reminders of home. 

even while wearing lulu’s cheer shorts as she practiced her knife throwing in the backyard. even while sleeping in logan’s hoodie, now smelling more of herself than her first boyfriend. even wiping the sweat off her brow with ethan’s old football tee, his number and name on her back. she whispered to colette or holly some nights, wondering if they could find them, but never with any real hope. 

if they were out there, what were the chances? 

and then the world ended again, in the form of holly falling ill as if she didn’t have someone to survive for. and merrick knew, logistically, that holly would fight to get free - she would. but in the meantime, she let out all the anguish and misery, all the horrors and tears she’d never shed for so many reasons, breaking down until he returned to her. 

but he wasn’t alone. 

she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it - curls matted down with sweat, shaking hands as he curled up on the steps of the library, her voice breaking out in a low cry - ethan ! that led her to scooping him in her arms. 

if logan had kept her intact, she had done so for ethan. where she needed logan, ethan needed her. 

sometimes the comparing and contrasting hurt too much to consider. 

he was a shell of a person - hollow eyes and barely able to register her more than a whisper of her name - “merrick?” but she didn’t bother giving him a moment to breath before she pulled him into a tight hug, just as logan had her. 

maybe this was how it was supposed to be, now. 

she had made herself a promise, lost in a journal sitting in her old bedroom back in riverside. if the world had ever given her a chance again, she’d fix it. make it right. 

holly could have logan. merrick would pretend she had no feelings, that their love had died away with time, that logan was merely an old friend. a brother. holly deserved him more, holly had had him first. merrick had been selfish, merrick had taken him, merrick would live the rest of her life filling guilt at the hurt on her sister’s face when she was with him, would bury her feelings until they disappeared. 

they would have to eventually, right? 

and ethan - he deserved more, deserved better. he deserved someone much more able to give him their whole heart. but he’d accepted when she’d given him then, and if he accepted it now, she would devote herself entirely. 

no one would ever need to be any wiser. 

“mer, she’s gone,” was ethan’s mumble into her hair, and her heart seized at the implications - there was only one ‘she’ between them that she’d be wondered about, her arms wrapping tighter around him. she didn’t want to know - didn’t want him to have to say - just kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, grateful he was there, he was alive. 

“you’re okay,” she whispered, not caring what happened for the moment, what he’d been through. “you’re here now, i’ve got you.” words she’d echoed to him so long ago, and much like then he collapsed against her, weight heavy as she ran her fingers up an down his back. 

yes, this would be how it was. holly would be better, and she and logan - 

merrick had ethan. and ethan had merrick. and merrick would be grateful enough for what she did have and not once ask for more. not this time. 

not anymore. 

#para #self para #para : logan norris #para : holly wood #para : ethan jenkins #para : cherry 2.0

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Vamps and Wolves [Jimin x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmeowschimmy

Requests opened / m.list

Wolf: Jungkook - Tae 

Genre: Smut 

Warnings: Impregnation kink, oral (f and m), rough, wolf in heat, creampie

WC: 3.8k 

Summary:  "I wish I could hear my name fall from those pretty lips again,"

A/N: Sorry not sorry 

»»————-　★　————-««

You were told your entire life that vampires and wolves weren't supposed to mate. It was an abomination to both sides. But you couldn't quite understand as to why it was an abomination. Clearly, your sister had mated with a wolf, and she was living fine. Although, she did run away from home and never contact anyone but you. Her children just came out with sharper fangs and changed whenever the moon was bright.

Somewhere full-blooded and others were half. It just depended on what won in the end. You groaned just a little, turning yourself back around to face your best friend. She stood there, leaning against the wall of your apartment as you were busying yourself with cooking. This evening, you two decided to munch on human food. You didn't particularly need it, considering that vampires really only lived on blood.

"If you want to join me, you can," Emila answers, turning back to head over to towards the kitchen table. Emila was a half-blood. Her father was a human, and her mother a vampire. You were considered to be pure blood. Since both your parents were high ranking officials in your nest.

"But that party is going to have wolves at it." you scrunched your nose up, not wanting to get near. Another aspect as to why vampires and wolves couldn't mate was because they couldn't stand to be around each other. Wolves smelt like garbage and vise versa. You were told once you fell in love with a wolf and they marked you, that their scent changed. You didn't know how your sister did it, but apparently, she did.

“And? Maybe you could meet your mate.” 

“My mate is going to be a vampire." You snarled in her direction. You weren't fans of wolves because they took your grandfather away. It's one of the more significant reasons why you couldn't fully support your sister and her actions. However, you weren't going to allow your hatred to stop you from talking to her. Unlike your parents, you were still going to have that open communication with her.

"You never know hun," Emila points out, waggling her finger in your direction. "Your mate could end up being a wolf."

You rolled your eyes in her direction. Not really keen on the idea of your mate being a wolf. The party didn't start for a couple of hours, so you switched the conversation. You wanted to start getting ready, and that's precisely what Emila had in mind.

A few hours later, you stood looking at yourself over and over again. Emila had let you borrow one of her dresses since you didn't own any that were up to her standards. Your chest was fully exposed, and your hair was curled in cute ringlets. The dress itself was a dark amber color that hung off the shoulders. It had a sweetheart neckline and a low back.

The dress cut off at your knees, and you wore matching color heels along. You even held a clutch in hand. Your eyes were smoked out, showing your natural color and neutral pink. Emila walks in wearing a mini skirt and a crop top. You narrow your eyes at her as she just shrugs her shoulders.

"You picked the dress I was originally going to wear," she mentions grabbing her knee-high boots and slipping them on. "So I went with my plan b. Sorry miss." You rolled your eyes at her and moved around. Heading out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

"Just meet me in my car." You shout, opening the door and quickly walking towards your baby blue car. It was shortly after Emilia had locked her apartment up then ran in your direction. She tells you where to go, and half an hour later you arrive at the place. Already, you could smell the wolves and your nose crinkled in disgust. Since Emilia was half, her senses weren't as keen as yours.

So she couldn't really pick up the stench until after walking in. The frat party was already in session. Students dancing on others, the smell of weed and alcohol hit your nose rather quickly. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, and you weren't going to mope around. Instead, you moved in with Emila. That little weasel could get anywhere in tight spaces. You?

That was a whole different ballgame. 

Emila was quick and beautiful. You were clumsy and slow. Of course, it always happened at some kind of party, alcohol spilled over the dress just a little. You where annoyed frat being full, including the stench of wolves; but you now wreaked of alcohol. You had only been there for less than five minutes, and you wanted to go home.

Since Emila was more adventurous than you were, she knew her way around alcohol. She often expressed her love for mixing and trying new things. Since vampires couldn't really get drunk, she had a high tolerance. The liquor just burned through their systems and tasted more like rubbing alcohol than anything else.

Plus, once she started making drinks, a crowd began to form. You grabbed your bottle and tried to stay by your friend's side. Eventually, you got pushed to the front and was staring at the circle around her. Emila kept get shot after shot, and it didn't seem to affect her. But, you always had to make sure that someone wasn't going to harm her or else they would pay the price.

The minute his scent hit your nose, you barred your fangs. There he stood, just a little taller than you. His bright pink hair seemed to glow under the house lights. Black skinny jeans, plaid shirt, white undershirt, and a leather jacket suited him well. He had his ears pierced, even his doubles. You tilted your head back, popping your hip out in front of him.

Alpha Jimin. Everyone knew of him in the supernatural world. Your parents despised the Park family. They tried to take over your lands, and it ended up in a bloody battle. You heard now that he was in his own pack, but that was the extent of your research.

“Fancy seeing a L/n here.” he plays his plump lips curling up into a playful grin. 

"I should tear you apart, Park," you growled, turning your body away from him. Another reason your sister ran away was that she married one of the Park clans. Not only was the disgrace of mating with a wolf terrible, but to mate with a Park was completely different.  

“Is someone upset coz their sister fell in love with the enemy?” he pouts leaning in, your inner beast wanting to come out. You could feel your blood boiling as your vision grew sharper. Even the sting of your natural color starting to fade into a blood red. 

He was trying to provoke you and damn it, his actions were working. You took a deep breath, turning yourself around, and looking at him. The ring around his pupil was a golden amber. He was in a state of a rut, you could tell he was. With this new information, you took a step back. He only moved closer, then tilted his head again.

“Aw, cat got your tongue?” 

"Shut up, Jimin!" You hissed your fingers tightening against the glass.

He gives out a throaty laugh. "How cute," he purrs, leaning forwards. "I wish I could hear my name fall from those pretty lips again," then moves his hand up to press a finger to your lips. "I'm dying to get some action." your eyes widened at the simple touch, then you froze. Watching as he sweeps his index finger across your lips and then moves himself back.

He stuffs his hands into his pocket and turns away. Jimin did not just provoke you only to turn the hell away from you. You watched as his figure moves through the crowd again. If he was going to play a game of cat and mouse, and he was on. 

For the rest of the night, you and Jimin “bumped” into each other. One was provoking the other, while then simply turning around. You were having fun with this game that you completely forgot about your best friend. Although you checked in on her, you noticed that she was already surrounding herself with wolves and humans. She seemed to be doing fine, even after she had too many drinks. 

When Emila pulled you aside, you were just about ready to provoke Jimin again. “Hey, are you okay?” she questions tilting your head back and then looking at you once again. You scrunched your eyebrows together, unaware of what she was asking you. 

“Why?” 

"Because you're changing," she mentions. It hadn't occurred to you that your body was already changing forms. Vampires didn't look like they did in the movies. Yeah, they had fangs and somewhat paler skin, but they didn't have wings and look over all disgusting. Instead, they just looked like rational human beings.

Except, their skin seemed to glow just a little brighter. It was their way of attracting prey as they seemed to draw closer to their body. The same way in which a witch could cast a spell on a person to make them fall in love was the same way the glow seemed to work. Their eyes usually changed color in a stinging sensation.

Vampire colors usually burned the natural color out for the amount of time they were in their forms. One thing vampires and wolves had in common was their fangs. They both grew them out when changing.

"Oh, am I?" You questioned glancing down at your skin. Because of the sharpness of your scenes, you started to notice the small changes. Was this what Jimin wanted from you? Or where you allow yourself to hunt him down like prey?

“Yeah, maybe you should go home.” 

"No." You snapped, which made your friend step back. You shook your head once again, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. "I'm sorry I don't know what's coming over me." Emila cocked an eyebrow and then chuckled under her breath. She knew what was going on, but she wasn't going to allow herself to say anything else. Instead, she was just going to slowly step away while giving you some kind words of advice.

“Don’t let yourself get too into this okay?” she questions humming. “You personally might not like where you end up.” 

Her figure disappears into the crowd again, and you were left standing there. Still eyeing yourself over. Trying to figure out how you could stop yourself from changing. But since the process was already in motion, you couldn't really just reverse it all until you were satisfied. This burning urge deep inside was what was drawing you closer and closer to Jimin. It's what this game was all about right?

Then his arms wrapped around your waist. Pulling you close in and a door shut behind you. Even before he held you, Jimin's scent hit your nose again. You huffed, not also surprised when he closed the closet door and pressed you against the wall.

The only thing you saw in the darkness was his glowing eyes. "This has to stop now," he growls. This was new, something you didn't expect to come from his mouth.

"This little game, you mean?" You purr. Somehow, your roles had changed, and now you had him wrapped around your finger. Maybe messing with a wolf wasn't the best decision.

"Yes." He snaps his fingers, twisting into a fist. "You know good and god damn well that I'm going crazy."

“And what about it?” 

“I can’t control myself right now.” 

“Then go home.” 

“I am home damn it!” he snaps. This perked your interest. So this part was thrown at his place. You hummed a little, reaching forwards and touching his cheek. Or at least you thought it was his cheek. Jimin stiffens under your touch, his eyes moving down to where your fingers were. 

Then, he lost all self-control. Jimin leans in, cupping your cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips against yours. His kiss was hot and lustful. You hadn't been with another man, so you didn't know exactly what to do. You had kissed plenty of times, but going a step further was something you never did.

However, just kissing Jimin was almost like you wanted to go further. "I need some kind of release," he murmurs, pressing his body into yours. Automatically, you brought a leg up to attempt to wrap around his waist. You wanted him closer, more than you thought you would.

“You know this is a bad idea,” you whisper noting one arm curled itself around your leg and pressed it closer to his body. Then, he moves to grab your other, lifting you up and holding your weight. 

"I don't care." he pauses then leans in again. Placing open-mouthed kisses along the collum of your throat. "You're changing, I'm in very horny, what's the worse that could go wrong?"

»»————-　★　————-«« 

Everything. Everything went wrong. 

Jimin kicked the closet door open and had your body flung over his shoulder. He quickly rushes into his room, kicking that door open. Then slamming it shut with his foot. He tosses you on the bed, it making sounds of protest due to how roughly he threw you. 

Your body flopped and rolled. Then was pinned and your lips were attacked once more. The kiss had turned feverish as both parties just wanted attention. His fangs came to play as they scraped and bit along your lips. The small amount of blood you held seeped out. Jimin growls at the sight, then kisses you again.

His calloused palms running down the sides of the dress. Pulling at the tight fabric and grunting when he heard it snap against your skin. When he reaches the base, he pulls the skirt up and pulls back. Jimin licks his swollen lips and lets out a triumphant sound.

"No, underwear?" he muses. You gave him a confident grin and spread your legs.

“Sometimes, I like to be risky.” 

"I love your train of thought." then dives in between your legs. He doesn't even tease you. Instead, he flattens his tongue at the base of your entrance. Then swipes upwards to finish by pressing against your clit. He hums, sending vibrations against the sensitive bud. Your knees buckle and press against his head while your waist presses down into the sheets.

Jimin pulls back, spreading your folds and spitting on you. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut when he uses the pads of his fingers against your clit. Rolling the bud in between his index and middle. This makes your body twitch and squirm under him as Jimin watches your pussy leak. 

He bends down, sticking his tongue out again and drinking your essence. Using his tongue to attack your entrance and all around. Jimin's fingers where slow compared to his tongue.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jimin,” you moan squirming under him. Once again, this was your first time. You never had an interest in sex, nor did you have an interest in the opposite sex. Then, why were you suddenly interested in Jimin? Was it the game you two played? Or was it the fact that maybe something inside you burned for him? 

"That's it," he growls your essence all over his lips and chin. If you had human blood, your cheeks would have been a bright red look at such a sinful sight. In a quick change, Jimin wraps his lips around the hood of your core. His palm moves to hold your hips in close as he directs all his attention towards stimulating your bud.

Instead of licking it, he sucks on it. Your moans begin to grow louder the harsher he sucks. You felt this weird sensation in between your legs while knot beginning to snap inside. Then, you arch your back, spazzing under him as you thought yourself let loose.

A hungry growl erupts from the deep in Jimin's throat as you end on him. He pulls back, looking at you as your essence was dripping down his face. When you finally opened your eyes, you instantly turn to look away. Only to have Jimin grasp your chin and yank your vision back on him.

"For someone who's never had sex before," he starts. You don't even question how he knows... "I'd say it's pretty easy to make you squirt." it felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your skull. Jimin...Jimin made you squirt? He could see the confusion on your lips, and he gave a cheeky smile.

"Oh sweetheart," he purrs, leaning in close enough for you to smell your arousal on his lips. "I can make you do more than just squirt." closing the distance between you and taking your lips in another lustful kiss. You tasted yourself and damn you had to admit it was the hottest things you'd ever done. Even as he kisses you, he takes you once more. Plunging two fingers into your entrance and pumping them at a quick speed.

Jimin distracts you with his lustful kisses. Making your lips swollen even more than before. Jimin takes you like this, over and over again. Making you squirt and orgasm four times afterward. By this time, he had ripped the dress to threads and began bruising your skin with his kisses.

He plays with your breast to the point where your nipples ached every time he touched them. Your body felt like it was on fire for the number of times he smacked, bit, and kissed it. You weren't ready for what else he had in mind, especially when he had you on your knees in front of him.

You stared down his shaft at his long length. HIs tip red and wet with the amount of precum he leaked. By this time, he helped you through your fourth orgasm, and your head was spinning. You were willing to do anything and everything for him at this point. 

Just as instructed, you open your mouth and soon was filled with his taste. Jimin groans at the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. He took a fist full of your hair when you started to move. Jimin bows his head backward, using a few his hips to keep your mouth on him.

With one hand, you reach up to stroke any part that wasn't inside. "Jesus Y/n," he growls, rolling his head back up to look at you. "For a beginner, you know what you're doing." he puffs growling when your tongue swipes around his tip and across his slit.

These simple movements went on for a while once again. Jimin groaning under his breath and your mouth taking more and more of him. It eventually got to the point where you felt his own end nearing. That's when your movements went quicker, and you ultimately took all of him. His tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

Even before you could move off, Jimin kept you there and released himself inside. His seed hit your tongue so quickly that you instantly pulled back. When you popped off, a small string of his seed and your saliva was connecting you two together.

"Open your mouth," Jimin demands. You do as your told, sticking your tongue out in the process. "Now swallow."

And you did exactly that. What happened next was too fast for you to process. The minute you went to open your mouth again, was when Jimin pushed you back on the bed. He spreads your legs and pushes right in. It was like he completely forgot you were new to this because he didn’t allow you to adjust to him. 

Nor did he use any lubrication, besides your own spit. Your nails clawed his back, earning another low growl. "No good girl gets any sort of special care from me," he answers in a deep voice. Jimin pulls his hips back and snaps in; at the same time, he lifts your hips, so your shoulders were pressing against the sheets.

This made it hard for you to grab onto him, so you decided to tear at the sheets. Jimin digs his toes into his bed as he uses his lower back muscles and abdomen to fuck you roughly. He ignored the groans and moans of his bed because now he was too focused on fucking your tight cunt.

The sounds you made were like heaven to him, and it encouraged him to move quicker. "Just like that, sweetheart," he growls. "Let them know who's fucking you this good."

Because your body was already stimulated to the extreme, you felt like if he even dared to touch your overstimulated bud, you would orgasm over his cock again. Everything felt so blurry, and your body was already so weak. You couldn't keep up with his pace, but you weren't complaining about it either. You begged for Jimin to move faster and harder. You wanted to feel his dick stretching your walls.

“You think you can hold my pups?” he ponders angling his hips once more to hit your bundle of nerves pretty hard. 

“Nghh - Damn it Jimin yes!" You cry the words immediately falling from your lips without any rational thoughts.

“You positive princess?” he provokes now slipping one hand down in between your folds to touch your bud. 

You cry out when he starts to roll it once again. Your hips jerking and twisting on their own accord. "Yes Jimin! Yes I can hold your pups!" You answer your throat already beginning to burn. With only a few swipes, you were left powerless once again.

Your orgasm washed over your senses, as your body twitched under his watchful gaze. Your rip holes into his sheets, tearing at them. With what sanity was left in Jimin completely vanished. His left hand was holding your leg up, and it goes without saying he blacked out.

You cry out at his canines dig deep into your calf. Breaking skin almost as he proceeds to mark you. In doing so, his thrusts become sporadic until he unleashes himself inside. When Jimin pulled away from you, he drops your body on the bed. Then, he rolls over to your right as his chest begins to rise and fall.

Something was different about Jimin, and you couldn't quite tell. Once you finally got your senses together, you realized he didn't smell like garbage anymore. Instead...  

“Jimin, what the fuck did you do?!” You screamed. 

#littlemeowmeowschimmy #bangtanarmynet #bts #bangtan #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts werewolf #bts vampire #werewolf au #vampire au #reader insert #park jimin #bts park jimin #bts jimin #park jimin x reader #smut #bts smut #werewolf jimin #werewolf park jimin

[moneymingyu]

[cw: mentions of death, wonwoo displays a panic attack]

It’s hot.

It’s hot in their normally freezing apartment and that sets off alarms in Wonwoo’s head.

In his sleepy haze, he wills his sleep heavy body to get up and run — urgent. He falls off the bed and croaks out a “Pumpkin!” that’s muffled by the carpet before he all but crawls to the door, the wood flying open so fast that he nearly hits himself in the face.

But it’s so hot and he needs to get out of here—No, he needs to find his siblings first.

He’s throwing open doors and crawling into cabinets in order to find his younger siblings because his apartment is so hot and that isn’t normal.

“Wonwoo?” a voice sounds from behind him.

He jumps up, feels all of his blood fall to his feet so fast that he feels dizzy and when he finally clears his vision in the slightest, he sees Pumpkin rubbing her eyes in the doorway.

She’s standing a lot taller than he remembers. Her signature ponytail is now a flop of loose strands and she had a small pout on her face. “Nu, it’s three in the morning. What are you doing?”

It’s then that he notices that he’s shaking, drenched in sweat and barely able to see. There’s a mess on the bathroom floor from where he’s thrown cleaning products around and he’s managed to spill the mouthwash all over the tiles.

He stares at the mess he’s made and realizes that he’s not 14 anymore.

“There was uh...a roach,” he fumbles in hopes that his sister doesn’t notice his strange behavior.

She’s too tired to even process the tsunami waves and says, “Ok. Well, keep it down. Jeonghan is sleeping on the couch.” He nods, mostly to himself as she turns to leave. “Night, Nu. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, voice foreign.

He sighs and cleans up his mess before going back to his room (if he turns down the heat again and places another blanket on top of Jeonghan, nobody has to know except for the moon).

-

Wonwoo can’t sleep for the rest of the night and that’s fine. It’s fine even though he can feel his eyes burning at first light. It’s fine even though he can feel his head throbbing in pain. It’s fine.

It’s only six in the morning when he gets up to shower, cold water prickling his skin. He downs some pain medication to will away his headache (he still doesn’t know if it’s from lack of sleep or a hangover) afterwards and pulls on a hoodie. He quietly slips out of the door not too long after.

It’s quiet outside. There’s a small gust of wind that reminds him that it’s November and a familiar stillness in the air.

Sunday mornings are his favorite. The part of Sunday morning that nobody gets to see — when the sun is just rising in her blush of pinks and orange. Mingyu says that his dad always used to wake him up at this time and they’d go on a walk. Mingyu said that this is the only time during the week where everything just seemed to stop and for a moment, crime, hatred and harm ceased to exist. It was during that small window of time where Mingyu’s dad wasn’t a firefighter. He was just his dad.

Wonwoo assumes that because of this reason, Mingyu used to always come to the cemetery around this time. He had done it on his own for two years before he started to drag Wonwoo and Pumpkin along, the three of them all shivering with a thermos of hot chocolate during the winter and cool tea during those mornings where humidity had their clothes sticking to their bodies.

He didn’t bring a drink today, though he usually does. He was too afraid to wake up Jeonghan, too afraid to look into his skeptical eyes that are always watching, picking up on your hiccups and painting the big picture in his head.

He loves Jeonghan and Seungcheol, he really does.

But having them know about his past with Mingyu, about how he continues to visit this man would mean that he’d have to go through years of pity stares and hand outs once again and he promised himself that by the 10 year anniversary, he’d have it together for the sake of Pumpkin and if having it together means almost bursting at the seams, at least it’ll still count as one piece of clothing.

Oh, how Jungkook would’ve loved them, he thinks as he fiddles with a ring that is hung around his chest.

It’s gold plated and dingy. He’s gotten it wet a couple of times — Jungkook wore it in the pool once. But it was all he had left of him and it was completely by accident.

He remembers going to bed that night and seeing it on the bathroom sink. He remembers slipping it onto his ring finger because his brother so careless and 13, doesn’t understand how easily things as small as this could be washed away.

Jungkook was always so careless.

“No,” he hears his brother’s voice over his shoulder, a whisper in his ear, “It’s called being carefree, hyung! Whatever happens, happens! And life goes on!”

It was nothing special. It was just a plain band. But to Wonwoo, it was the only piece of his brother that he had left.

He plops down in the grass in front of Mingyu’s late father before the tears can start to fall.

“Hey,” Wonwoo starts. “I see Pumpkin brought you peonies last week,” he says as he eyes the dead bunch of flowers that will be replaced in a couple of hours. “How fitting.”

Joshua slipped to Wonwoo one day that Pumpkin was still visiting Mr. Kim. She thinks that when Mingyu left, Wonwoo cut off every piece of him the way that the younger did to them and didn’t want Mr. Park to feel forgotten. So, for the past five years, she’s been buying flowers to place on his grave just like Mingyu used to do.

What she doesn’t know is that Wonwoo still comes here.

In the five years since Mingyu’s left, he comes and spends the sunrise of Sunday mornings with Mr. Kim and has only missed a handful of days.

It’s a ritual to him. He feels like he’ll have an off week if he doesn’t do so. He’s been doing this for seven years now and doesn’t plan on stopping just because Mingyu doesn’t talk to him anymore.

Mr. Kim saved my life. This is the least that I could do.

Usually, Wonwoo will update Mr. Kim on Mingyu’s youtube channel. He’ll tell him where in the world Mingyu’s ended up and what antics his friends put him up to. He’ll tell him about what he’s posted on social media and about the company his video is being sponsored by this week. Sometimes, he even plays the videos outloud so that Mr. Kim can hear his son’s voice.

On good days, Wonwoo will stay until the world begins to wake then quickly leaves back home before Pumpkin wakes up. On the bad days, he stays much longer and confides in him.

Today is a bad day.

-

Mingyu is standing about twenty feet behind Wonwoo.

There he is, he thinks. So close yet so far away.

There’s a longing that ignites in him. He thinks of long talks sitting at this grave with Wonwoo and Pumpkin, thinks about how they all shared their hopes and dreams in this very spot. He thinks of the times he and Wonwoo would come here and cry together, two boys missing pieces of their hearts. He thinks about how he promised Wonwoo to always protect Pumpkin in the times that he couldn’t because there used to be three Jeon kids and Wonwoo just could not do that again.

All of these thoughts have Mingyu slowly backing away until he’s away from the cemetery.

He can’t face him right now. No, not any time soon.

Because if there was one thing he remembered about the Jeon kids, it was that Wonwoo was the least forgiving one.

He retreats to a bakery that he’s never been to before. The boy behind the counter has a stone cold face but kind eyes and as Mingyu places an order, he can’t help but wonder if Wonwoo’s ever been here before.

He comes back a couple of hours later only to find Pumpkin there this time. There’s a boy standing at the tree nearby with soft eyes. Mingyu stands near him, bowing slightly when they make eye contact.

“Relative?” Mingyu asks, hoping he doesn’t recognize him even though he has a mask and a hat pulled across his face.

The boy tilts his head towards Pumpkin. “She visits him every Sunday. He saved her life when she was younger. You?”

“My dad,” Mingyu nods a bit too numbly. His eyes flicker back to the girl just as she folds her hands into a prayer.

He smiles at her. Some traditions never die, he thinks. Though none of them were ever very religious, Pumpkin always made it a point to pray for the souls in the cemetery and that they find peace on the other side.

She sits back on her knees as Mingyu nods again towards Joshua, venturing further into the cemetery until he finds a bench where he could still see his father’s grave but without being noticed by Pumpkin.

He waits there for about ten minutes, watches Pumpkin talk in the same animated notion that she’s always talked in, all hands and wild eyes and sound effects. The boy behind her smiles with fondness and Mingyu half wonders who he is. He recognizes him from somewhere but his head is already spinning from this new found information that the Jeon kids are still keeping up his Sunday traditions in his absence.

They leave shortly after but not before Pumpkin presses a kiss to her finger tips then brushes them across the headstone.

“He’ll be back soon,” he sees her mouth.

The boy wraps his arm around her shoulder, smiling at her. It reminds him a lot of how Wonwoo looks at her — gentle yet ready to throw himself into harms way for her.

When they’re out of sight, Mingyu walks towards the grave. A bouquet of pink carnations sitting there.

I’ll never forget you.

His chest suddenly feels heavy, eyes watering as he slowly traces his fingers over the letters of his father’s name.

“Dad,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

-

Chapter Seven: What I Miss

Summary: If home is where the heart is, then the hearts of Kim Mingyu and the Jeon siblings must lie within the stars. Maybe that’s why the always feel so out of place. Maybe that’s why Mingyu left town and never turned back. Maybe that’s why the Jeon siblings can’t leave this town. Maybe this time, the stars will align and things might start actually making sense.

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a/n: if you guys don’t know why mingyu calls pumpkin hobag, hobag is the korean word for pumpkin 😂 don’t forget to let me know how i did!

a/n 2: personal criticism is that i should’ve done these last couple of chapters closer to the beginning but o well we’re here now.

#seventeen #svt #choi seungcheol #s.coups #yoon jeonghan #hong jisoo #joshua hong #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #kwon hoshi #wen junhui #moon junhui #jun #lee jihoon #woozi #jeon wonwoo #xu minghao #seo myungho #the8 #lee seokmin #dk #lee dokyeom #dokyeom #boo seungkwan #lee chan #dino #lee dino #vernon hansol chwe #chwe hansol #vernon

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XL (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This is where we start to use romans numbers we’ve never seen in our whole life.

Words: 2,451

Warnings: Blood, mentions of death.

Series’ Masterlist

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Chapter Twenty-Two: Ginny's Rescue.

Mel didn't like the idea of being underground and so far away from everything.

Even if the ceiling was high enough for them to walk upright, she feared that at any moment the walls would just fall and bury her under thousands of stone and no one would ever know where to find them. That was quite a nasty thought she didn't want to have, yet it was the only thing she could think of.

There was no need to watch Lockhart now, he couldn't exactly flee from the place. They walked through the damp hall, dark and cold with only their shadows as their company, carefully moving forward.

"Guys - there's something up there -" Ron pointed.

At the end of the corridor, they could see something huge and just... laying there.

"Maybe it's asleep," Harry whispered.

Harry and Mel walked closer to it with their wands ready for any kind of attack when Harry's light got to the body, they realized it was only the skin, the monster wasn't there.

Lockhart fell to his knees, overwhelmed or maybe, just tired from all the emotions.

"Get up," Ron demanded, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart suddenly jumped on top of Ron, now both of them were on the ground, struggling. Mel got closer but by the time she and Harry got near enough, Lockhart had already taken a hold of Ron's wand.

"The adventure ends here!" He said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories! Obliviate!"

An explosion divided the group, Mel threw herself to the right and covered her head as best she could from all the rocks falling. Her worst nightmare coming true and all she could think of was that if they died, there was no way someone could recover their bodies. Then the rocks stopped, and she was still breathing- and she could hear someone breathing beside her.

"Ron!" Harry shouted from some point in the distance. "Mel! Are you okay?"

"I'm here!" Ron's voice sent a wave of relief through her body, he was next to her, she wasn't alone. "I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand- Mel?"

"I'm fine," She panted, standing up, "I'm full of dirt, but I'm fine. What do you mean he got blasted?"

"Well," He grunted, "take a look..."

The boy got closer to the man's body, who laid on the ground with a confused expression. Ron kicked his leg and Lockhart complained briefly before going back to analyze the place. He seemed lost.

"Harry!" Mel approached the pile of rocks that were now separating them from each other. "Harry, are you alright?"

"Yes," Harry's coughed, "one piece and all..."

"What now?" Ron asked anxiously. "We can't get through- it'll take ages..."

She knew Ron was right, they were trapped and Harry was the only one who could keep going. Once again, she knew what they had to do, only this time was harder than the first, cause it meant she had to let go of what she felt was part of her person.

"Harry has to keep going..." She said, very quietly.

"What?" Asked Ron.

"Harry has to keep going," She repeated, louder this time, "I hate saying this, but he knows what he's facing and he's the only one who can get to Ginny on time. If he waits for us your sister... she has more chances if he moves right now than if he waits for us"

There was a heavy silence after her words. She didn't want to wait; if she could move the rocks with just a wand movement she would, but there was no time. Worse yet, she didn't want to leave Harry alone- her whole life she'd been standing beside him, they were a team. She was supposed to protect him, to never leave him alone, and now...

It was time to trust and let go. She could only trust in his abilities, trust in her best friend, wait.

"Wait there," Harry replied after what seemed like ages. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on... If I'm not back in an hour..."

"You will," Mel tried to find a small crack between the rocks so she could glance at her best friend. She found none. "You're smart... and lucky."

She heard a tiny, trembling laugh.

"Glasses?" She said with a tint of distress, "You can do it."

"We should try and shift some of this rock," Ron cleared his throat, fighting against the tears that were threatening to get out. "So you can- can get back through. And, Harry -" His breathing was uneven, he couldn't end his sentence.

"See you in a bit," Harry sentenced, she also caught fear on his voice, yet she didn't comment on it.

"I think this is the longest you've spent without talking," Ron mentioned after ten minutes of moving the rocks away so Harry could pass through. "I mean by choice. You were silent this afternoon but that was because of me and my brothers"

"That's not odd, just means I'm terribly worried," She said tiredly, "I just want this day to end- and to have a happy ending, if possible"

"Harry'll come back, and he'll bring back Ginny," Ron said with certainty, "he's clever, he'll know what to do."

"He better," Mel mumbled, "otherwise I'll have to go in myself and drag his ghost back to life"

Ron let out a short, dry laugh.

"If we find a way to get out of here you'll have to learn to worry less, or your hair'll be grey by the time we're sixteen"

"S'not that I don't know how to calm down," She snapped, "it's just- ugh- it's just Harry, you know? He... he's a headache."

"He's a headache because he went alone to try and save my sister?" Ron asked.

"He's too nice!" Mel exploded, throwing a small rock without seeing and accidentally hitting Lockhart, "Sorry, Gil! Anyway, Harry's always doing things like this, the time he looked for Justin to clear things up and ended up being blamed of his attack- or when we decided to help Hagrid with Norbert and lost all those points? What about the Christmas present he gave me, and what about Grey? Merlin's beard- isn't he just perfectly lovely?!"

She ended her rant, kicking a few stones that laid beside her. Ron was looking at her with a strange expression.

"Why're you so upset about all that? Harry was a good bloke all those times, is that bad?"

"It isn't!" She exclaimed, "Which is why it makes everything so much harder for me, can't he be a normal boy and be annoying and stupid?"

"Thank you," Ron frowned, moving another rock out of the way, "Why, are you trying to hate him? It does sound like you're trying to like him le-"

Then he stopped, looking at her with a new realization shinning on his eyes.

"You like Harry."

"Shut up, you don't know what you're saying-"

"It's quite obvious, actually," He raised a brow, "wonder how Harry can't see it..."

"Don't mention any of this to him," She jerked up, pointing a single finger to his chest.

"I'm right, then? You like him?" His smile grew, "that's gross, Mel"

"I'm aware! That's why I'm trying to make it stop!"

"I've never heard those sorts of things can be stopped," Ron shrugged, "think you're doomed"

"Oh no..."

"Sorry, just being honest"

"No- I'm not saying it because... of what y-you said," Mel gulped, "I'm not feeling well..."

Ron stopped what he was doing again, eyeing her up with worry.

"Mel?"

She dropped a rock dangerously near her foot, stepping backward and holding her arm tight against her chest. She let out a strangled scream.

"Mel! What's going on?"

She couldn't answer, a sharp pain spread through her right arm and disoriented her, making her fall back and curl up without being able to understand what was happening.

However, it seemed her subconscious knew.

"Something happened to Harry," Mel whimpered.

Then something even stranger occurred, and a scene flashed in her mind, one that was definitely nothing she'd ever lived before:

Harry was kneeling on the floor, he was holding his arm just like her, though his was covered in blood, a boy- older and taller- stood above him, a nasty smile on his face.

"What?" Ron asked without understanding.

She cried again, the pain only increasing- Her sight got blurry and now everything was pulsing, not only her forearm.

Then, just when she was thinking that maybe she was somehow dying and this was some strange hallucination, the pain stopped. She gasped, her vision becoming clearer and finally able to look up to Ron, who was now kneeling in front of her, holding her back.

"You scared me!" He yelled at her, terrified,  "What was that? What happened?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" She yelled back, "I-I don't know! It just sort of happened!"

Ron examined her face frantically looking for a sign of mental illness. When he found none, he hugged her briefly and stood up, offering a hand to help her back on her feet.

"I'm glad it's over," He nodded shortly, "I don't know what would've done if I was left alone with this twat"

Both of them turned to see Lockhart, who was wandering around a few meters away.

"Probably search for my ghost and force me to come back as well," She replied, still slightly weakened, "I truly don't know what was that, but what I said... I meant it. I know it's true, somehow."

Ron bit his lip and looked over to the wall, they still had a lot of work to do.

"Let's just keep going." She nodded and continued their labor.

How did she manage to see what she'd seen? And was it real? Merlin, she hoped it was all her mind's invention.

After almost an hour, Harry's voice felt like a huge weight lifting from their shoulders.

"Ron! Mel! Ginny's okay! I've got her!"

"Yes!" Ron beamed, leaning closer to see through the gap they had created.

"Ginny!" He exclaimed after a few seconds, pulling his sister through the gap. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?"

"Gin!" Mel hugged her tightly once Ron let go of her, "Oh, I'm so happy to see you!"

"How - what -- where did that bird come from?"

The girl looked back just then, finding the most beautiful bird she'd ever seen landing softly in front of her.

"He's Dumbledore's," Harry grunted as he passed through.

At the same time he mentioned it, the bird got closer to Mel, almost as if he knew who she was.

"How come you've got a sword?" asked Ron.

Once again her attention moved from the bird to Harry, who was holding a large, shiny sword on one hand.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," Harry glanced at her and Ginny.

Her friend was holding her tightly, she cried against her shoulder and mumbled apologies, Mel tried to let her know that any of that was her fault, but Ginny wasn't having it.

"But-" Ron started, but Harry was quick to interrupt.

"Later. Where's Lockhart?"

"Back there," Ron pointed to the other side of the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Ginny finally let go of her, though she was still very affected. The bird lifted himself from the ground and decided to land on Mel's left shoulder, scaring her to death. He was so pretty and gentle that she let him there, knowing it wouldn't harm her.

When they found Lockhart, he was humming placidly to himself.

"His memory's gone," Ron explained. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself.."

"Hello," Lockhart said gleefully, "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," said Ron.

Harry got closer to the pipe where they had first entered and frowned.

"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" He asked them.

The bird flew and stopped in front of Harry, he was strange, acted like he... understood.

"He looks like he wants you to grab..." said Ron, tilting his head. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there-"

"Fawkes," Harry smiled, "isn't an ordinary bird. We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart-"

"He means you," said Ron to Lockhart in an exasperated tone.

"You hold Ginny's other hand-" He kept the sword and the hat -it looked like the sorting hat, which was weird- on his belt, and offered his hand to Mel, "Let's go."

It was quite a strange moment when the five of them flew up through the pipe like they weighed nothing to Fawkes. They landed softly outside the pipe and onto the wet floor of Myrtle's toilets.

"You're alive," she frowned at their sight.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," Harry took off his glasses and casually cleaned the bloodstains off.

Mel only realized she'd been staring when Ron nudged her arm, a knowing smile on his face.

"Bugger off," She hissed.

"Oh, well..." Myrtle started, "I'd just been thinking... if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet."

"Oh," Harry and Mel said at the same time.

"I-I think we better go and... we should look for McGonagall," Harry hurried back to the door, face completely red.

"Urgh!" said Ron once they were outside in the corridor. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!- Oh, but don't worry Mel, Harry only thinks about you"

Ron broke the record of embarrassing more than one person at a time. Mel blurted out half a sentence before giving up and avoid any kind of eye contact with her friends, Harry had managed to punch Ron without the girls noticing, and without making any noise. Ron tried to complain loudly but then saw his sister's face and noticed she was still crying silently beside them.

Fawkes landed back on Mel's shoulder, she noticed his feathers had a wonderful gleam, they shone and covered her with a good sense of comfort.

"Where now?" asked Ron behind them.

"To Professor McGonagall's office," Mel retorted calmly, "I think she ought to know what happened..."

Next Chapter —>

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