#I am absolutely not normal about this AU please feel free to ask any questions about it!!!

[riraro489]

@heropartnerweek Day 7: Free Day | Previous Prompt -> AU

To put it simply, this is an antagonist swap AU and I'll talk more about it under the read more (+ there's an additional art piece!! Watch out because the explanation is very long and disorganized)

In this AU, Grovyle is swapped with Dusknoir while Cresselia has swapped with Darkrai. I came up with the idea of swapping Darkrai and Cresselia initially before deciding to combine it with my interpretation of a Grovyle and Dusknoir swap AU. Now, about Grovyle and Dusknoir. They wouldn't be too different from their main iterations; Grovyle becomes an instantaneous celebrity while Dusknoir tries to collect the Time Gears, hoping he'll find his friend Amber (now turned into a Chimchar) along the way. Because of this, I decided to make the partner a Treecko (named Oran) as I feel like being betrayed by Grovyle would hurt a lot more. Where this AU differs, however is Grovyle's motive. It's not that he wants to avoid disappearing; instead, he wants to prevent his friends (Dusknoir, Celebi, and Amber) from dying. Unfortunately, when Grovyle joined with Primal Dialga (who he calls Lord Dialga) his friends felt that he was a traitor and cut ties with him. Even so, he still continues to try and stop them from changing the future. This leads up to the events of Special Episode 5, where Grovyle essentially arranges for the Sableye to kidnap Celebi as he attempts to lead Dusknoir to the same spot. As Dusknoir and Grovyle venture together, Dusknoir begins to believe that Grovyle has given up on trying to change the past. However, once the two reach Icicle Forest, Grovyle reveals that he intended to have Spiritomb prevent Celebi and Dusknoir from leaving as one last ditch effort to prevent history from being changed. Grovyle finally admits that he was doing so so that Dusknoir and Celebi wouldn't disappear. Dusknoir and Celebi both speak with him and convince Grovyle to be on their side. Naturally, Grovyle agrees and has Spiritomb release the two. Unfortunately, Primal Dialga shows up to ruin the heartfelt moment and starts attacking Grovyle. Dusknoir immediately steps in with Fire Punch, screaming at Primal Dialga and calling them a monster. Just before Primal Dialga is able to retaliate, an aurora appears, showing that the future has been changed. Dusknoir, Grovyle, and Celebi all combat Primal Dialga at the peak of Vast Ice Mountain. They are victorious and Dusknoir holds his two lovers friends in his arms as they disappear. Just like in the original Special Episode 5, all the Pokémon are returned to the future and are able to live out the rest of their lives.

Moving on to Darkrai and Cresselia :]

Oh boy these two are vastly different from canon. Darkrai is highly optimistic and hopes to make many friends (hence the Friend Bow) despite the fact that he causes nightmares wherever he goes. Meanwhile, his delusional sister Cresselia constantly puts people to sleep, saying things along the lines of "Would it not be better if everyone slept forever?" Essentially, Darkrai is constantly trying to chase her down and stop her. In this AU, Cresselia is the one responsible for the collapse of Temporal Tower and she begins distorting space after that fails. Believing Team Sunset (Amber and Oran) are in the way of her plans, she attempts to pin the distortion of space on the two children. This ultimately fails as Darkrai manages to catch up to her and convinces Palkia that Cresselia is in fact the one distorting space. Cresselia then flees to Moonlit Mountain (a dungeon near Crystal Crossing, meant to be the opposite of Dark Crater) after she taunts Amber, Oran, and Darkrai into going there. Upon reaching the pinnacle, Cresselia informs Amber that she was the cause of Amber's memory loss. She also goes on to explain that she initiated the collapse of Temporal Tower as well. Cresselia proceeds to summon six other Pokémon to fight alongside her. Once she is defeated, Cresselia opens a Dimensional Hole and gloats about her victory instead of actually escaping. Because of this, Palkia is able to show up and stop her. Unexpectedly, Darkrai leaps in front of the attack, pushing Cresselia aside. The Dimensional Hole closes and Cresselia is utterly mortified as she cries out, questioning why Darkrai would even bother to save her. Darkrai reminds her that despite everything Cresselia has done, she is still his sister and that she has the capacity to be a good person. Cresselia finally remembers why she had done everything: Cresselia was trying to protect Darkrai. After all, Darkrai was constantly harrassed for simply being himself. Cresselia believed that if she put others to sleep, then they would stop berating Darkrai. Her desires eventually grew twisted as she derived satisfaction from harming those she deemed to be evil, leading her to become the Pokémon she is in this AU. To make up for her misdeeds, she uses Lunar Dance, healing Darkrai. Palkia leaves, convinced that Cresselia will not continue to distort space. Darkrai requests to join Team Sunset, which Amber and Oran happily accept. Cresselia on the other hand, decides that she needs time alone to reflect upon her actions, but, when she is ready, she will return to the peak of Moonlit Mountain for a fair battle should Team Sunset wish to recruit her.

That's my take on this AU! I'm not sure if anyone else has made this AU before I have. If someone has, I'd love to see their iteration of it!! Thank you for taking time to read this! I know it was really long, but I hope it was at least of some interest to you :] I might draw more of this AU, but I am (slowly) working on a different PMD 2 AU idea I had so I might not draw too much of this AU in the future :/

[ghostbite0]

hihi!1!! i have a question about your ping sized pillars au! do they act differently towards eachother since they became children? dince because of their ages their behaviours could change so i’m just curious :D

hi anon!!! its 4 am sorry if i sound a little delirious at all when answering this question!

they absolutely do! i’ll make a very brief list just for the sake of simplicity but please feel free to ask for more clarification!! (i also plan to draw comics exploring this more so hopefully that will help showcase their dynamics too!)

Gyomei: After shrinking fourteen years and falling into the role of looking after the little ones until they can turn back, he’s much more gentle and kinder. he’s more expressive and talkative and is overall just a sweetheart toward the younger children and guides them however he can. at most he’ll pick on Sanemi and Tengen— but for the most part he takes all the responsibilities like a champ. older brother moment

He gets easily flustered and tends to mentally beat himself up a lot, often doubting his role and if he’s any good at it. He takes it hard whenever he accidentally makes someone cry :(

He’s very very close with Shinobu and Muichiro, but he loves everyone, and they all love him!

Tengen: he’s definitely more mischevious towards the others, but eeeextremely protective as well. he likes to carry everyone around + rough house and hates being the “bad guy” (aka enforcing rules), so naturally he becomes one of the favorite’s really quick

he’s kind of the equivalent of the older sibling who wants McDonalds and makes the younger sibling ask the parent for it. he bargains a lot with the other kids

He and Gyomei work really well as a team, with Gyomei being more nurturing and making rules (and consequences to breaking of said rules) and Tengen being more playful and funny. it really comes in handy when they have to distract the others from something distressing and Tengen entertains them while Gyomei works on fixing the problem!

Sanemi: Sanemi has the biggest change! he acts normal for the most part but is absolutely a big softie, as seen with how he will let Obanai hold his arm when nervous or how he’ll actively search for a flower to give Shinobu if she’s upset :(

He and Gyomei become closer during the whole ordeal, especially when Genya gets involved… Sanemi tries to get Gyomei to hide him from his (big?) little brother, but the eldest refuses and forces Sanemi to work stuff out with him…

Giyuu: his change is less noticeable… again, he’s mostly the same, but as things progress and he’s around Tanjiro, Shinobu, etc more, he loosens up. He actively looks out for the others in his own way, and never participates in rough-housing in favor of sitting with Shinobu or Muichiro. Honestly, he’s usually just hanging out with Tanjiro (against his will) and it’s difficult for me to word their dynamic without going into a lot of detail!

Obanai: he has a pretty big change as well. Obanai is shy as a kid, so naturally, he tends to keep to himself and only stick with the people he likes. He gets flustered around Mitsuri even more now, and the others tease him in the same way Elementary Schooler’s are like “obanai and mitsuri sitting in a tree!!!!!”

It’s also worth noting that he’s usually glued to Sanemi, Rengoku, or Gyomei/Tengen depending on who is around. He hates the situation they’re in and isn’t afraid to show it, but as soon as Shinobu and Muichiro are there, he acts like it doesn’t affect him at all. He’s closer with Muichiro as he actively tries to make sure he’s doing okay, and likes to help Gyomei watch him!

Rengoku: speaking of Rengoku…. yeah! He’s always been very loving and considerate, so it’s only amplified here. He likes to think he’s part of the “big kids” squad too… he’s more brotherly with Mitsuri and likes to drag Obanai out of his comfort zone, just like when they were younger. He’s much closer with Tengen! He has trouble playing with Muichiro because he’s so little, so usually when he’s with him he’s trying to feed him or entertain him (this rarely goes well)

Mitsuri: like Rengoku, she’s always been a sweetheart, so not too much changes. She’s much more affectionate and loving, though, and always wants to hug someone or play with them!

She becomes a lot more close with Shinobu, and likes to hang out with Tengen and Rengoku and join in on their shenanigans. She is clueless to Obanai’s feelings, and never notices how flustered he gets when she braids his hair or carries him around! She also plays a lot of games like “House” and what not, so dynamics shift whenever Mitsuri takes it veeeery seriously

Mitsuri lights up a room, and it’s noticeable if Mitsuri is down or not around. They’re all pretty close to her during this!

Shinobu: Shinobu has always been the mediator of the Hashira, and that reigns true even as a five year old. People think she can be a bit bratty or bossy, but that’s faaaar from the truth. Shinobu is even more persistent about Giyuu making friends and tries to include him however she can. Also, because she knew Gyomei at a young age, she tends to confide in him more often than not. She likes acting as a bigger sister toward Muichiro and having a lot of “girl talks” with Mitsuri; they have their equivalent of a sleepover pretty much every night.

Fun Fact: she gets pretty sad about not having Kanae around during this (since they grew up together and all), and Mitsuri kinda helps fill that role without either of them realizing it!

Muichiro: Being the baby of the group, quite literally, everyone absolutely adores him, but they don’t always know how to interact with him. At the start, his relationship with everyone is pretty sour, since he admittedly takes the whole de-aging thing the hardest. But with Gyomei’s patience and guidance, he warms up a bit and slowly starts to enjoy himself more, leading to his friendships with the others changing as well.

Everyone’s even more protective of him (especially after Muichiro protected them when they were all getting transformed— they feel kinda bad about it) and coddles him 24/7. They definitely spoil him, and Muichiro warms up to their affection and eventually begins actively seeking it. Tengen sometimes gets jealous about all the attention Muichiro gets, and it creates a fun dynamic between the two of Muichiro purposely trying to piss him off haha.

It’s hard to pinpoint how much his relationships change with everyone without writing an essay about it, but you get the gist!

“im gonna make a short list” (insert giant paragraphs of info)

anyway; that was a really great question!!! thank you so much for your interest in my silly little au, i hope i was able to help clear things up!!! feel free to ask for more details im kinda crazy BAHAHA

[mehoymalloy]

I am thinking about the Imotohan strap on fic A LOT like my mind is just going over the snippet you gave us over and over, I'm obsessed and omg your writing is too good

I've been so focused on the Judicator AU that I haven't touched any of my other WIPs and likely won't for a couple more months... But here! Have links to the one snippet I've posted that you for sure know of, and one ask prompt that has absolutely been absorbed into the (oh god it's 13k) draft. Also, here! Beneath the cut are two new, very rough, and indulgent as hell snippets to hold ya over; one from the beginning and one from the end!

Otohan gets cocky.

Imogen gets cocky (and somft).

How it started:

"I should've done this then," Otohan growls in her ear. "Bent you over and fucked you until you screamed loud enough for your friends to hear where they wait just outside."

And Imogen nods. Of course she nods, because this is just a dream, and Otohan loves it when she says yes, when she can't deny them and doesn't even attempt to. Whether Imogen freely admits it with a slip of the tongue or Otohan has to claw it out of her little by little.

"Out loud, Imogen."

And when she says yes, Otohan's heart nearly skips a beat. They normally hate dreams like this. They're never good enough. They never do Imogen justice. They're always just a little off. But Otohan has heard Imogen produce a handful of sounds—their name, the word yes, a broken cry—enough for their desperate imagination to reproduce it just right. For it to be so close to perfect that Otohan can forget, that they can pretend.

It makes it easier to let themself believe then, that it could almost be real, when the scene shifts and Otohan finds themself surrounded by people they've killed and now know the names of, with Imogen squirming in their lap but making no attempt to free herself. Her thighs tremble as Otohan pushes their hands up beneath her skirt, and her stomach shudders with gasping breath as Otohan unfastens the button of her shorts.

"Otohan," Imogen murmurs aloud, heedless of their shadowy surroundings, the faces of her friends frozen in time—none of them looking but nevertheless there.

Otohan hums in question as they stroke their fingers through her small clothes, smirking slightly when Imogen leans her head back against their shoulder.

"Please," Imogen gasps.

Otohan frowns—that breaks the illusion slightly, Imogen would never say please.

"What do you need?" Otohan asks. The question is shaped with purpose, pressed against Imogen's neck so that Otohan's own mind can offer up a phrase they've heard before, one that cuts deeper than Otohan would ever admit. They open the wound now because it at least makes this all feel just a little more real.

"I don't need you," Imogen hisses against their ear.

Otohan's smirk is bittersweet as they { slip } their fingers beneath Imogen's small clothes to press against warm, wet skin. "So you insist," Otohan says, pressing in and curling one arm around Imogen's waist to keep her close as she automatically arches.

How it's going:

Imogen is done with patience. On the next thrust, she rolls her hips back to meet them, takes over half the length and is already gearing up to do so again when Otohan grabs her hip, fingers digging in to hold her still, flexing when Imogen whines.

Otohan keeps their hips back as they lean over Imogen, planting their hand beside her own on the bed as they whisper in her ear. "I said, patience."

Imogen groans but hangs her head as she stills, waits for Otohan to set the pace, careful to follow it lest they stop again. Still too slow, too soft. But this time, that softness doesn't make her uncomfortable, it just drives her wild as she fights her own desire to make Otohan go faster.

"Make me?" Otohan grunts with clear amusement before abruptly snapping their hips forward, thrusting a little harder. Imogen groans softly, hips twitching with the effort not to move. "Why don't you ask me?"

Imogen lets her knees slip farther apart, making it all the easier for Otohan to thrust deeper, but her silent request isn't enough.

"Ask me, Imogen." The words are hot against her skin, a cool caress to her mind.

"Otohan…" Imogen moans, arms shaking as she lowers herself to her forearms, { racked by } the jolt of arousal that shoots through Otohan at the sight of her, the sudden urge they have to sink in deep.

{ "Mm-hm," } Imogen moans a vague affirmative, tilts her hips higher, inviting them to follow through with the rogue desire, gasping when Otohan almost does, hips twitching as they hold themself back.

Imogen balances her weight onto one arm, reaching back with the left to grab the back of Otohan's thigh, fingers digging in as she tugs them forward, manages to pull them { the scantest inch } further inside her.

Otohan grunts at the touch, abruptly slides their hand from Imogen's hip up her back, presses hard between her shoulder blades until her arm buckles, chest pressing down into the bed, cheek turning to slide against silk sheets as she releases a strained gasp.

"You stubborn–"

"Please, Otohan," Imogen gasps. Both hands move to tangle hard in the sheets, though she doesn't push herself back up. She arches her back further still. 

Otohan's breath is trapped in their chest, their ears are ringing, that single word echoing in their mind. Their voice is far too strained when they say { "I didn't say 'beg.' I said, ask, Imogen." }

Imogen doesn't hesitate. "Please, Otohan, will you please– just…" Imogen trails off, and Otohan feels her get stuck, can't find the right words. 'Fuck me' isn't right but neither is 'make love to me' and she reels around those two phrases as they tangle on her tongue until all that comes out is "Fuck, Otohan, will you please stop teasing me?" Exasperation and desperation { sound so pretty on her. } And she did ask.

[it-happened-one-fic]

West Coast Swing - Double the Pressure - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author's notes: Wow, I am nervous about this one. I've never written this character before and honestly, it was tough. You may notice that this dance is the same one as the previous section of the Strictly NRC Dancing AU. That will happen several times and all that means is that one of the dances will be with a staff member rather than a student! I did have a dance I used as inspiration for this fic. It was a West Coast swing performed by Melissa Rutz and Ben Morris at West Cost Monterey Swingfest 2013 to "Boogie Shoes" by KC and the Sunshine band. Just like the rest of the fics in this AU, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this AU the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List.

Type: Platonic/fluff/female reader/Dance AU

Word Count: 681

I felt bad for Epel. While West Coast swing wasn’t exactly the most difficult dance of the classes provided, impressing Vil and Sam was. Crewel had been incredibly clear when he’d been teaching me. Sam was murder to impress when it came to any sort of swing dancing. As such, Crewel had been especially careful in teaching me.

But Epel didn’t have to impress just the judges. Knowing his ongoing disagreement with Vil, he’d be determined to impress Vil and force his housewarden to say he was a good dancer. Which meant he had double the pressure on him.

Which was why I’d been surprised when he’d chosen, of all things, an upbeat disco/funk tune to dance to.

While there was nothing wrong with his choice, West Coast swing was typically danced to slower more bluesy tunes, with faster songs usually only used by the very best of dancers.

When I’d questioned his choice the young man met my gaze with a unique determination that I was positive was grounded in his eternal beef with Vil, “Absolutely.”

I had taken the time to question Epel as to why he had brought Vil into his dance classes and had immediately been met with a mocking sound similar to a scoff that Vil might do, “He told me to be sure I paid attention in class since swing dancing was apparently difficult and not something that had come naturally to him.”

My eyebrows lifted, at his words. So Vil had already tried to learn swing dancing.

With that knowledge, I normally would have advised my friend to ask for tutoring, but that would have been a horrible idea. Epel would never do that. Not when he’d apparently vowed to one-up his housewarden.

And I couldn’t deny that after practicing with him, I wondered if he could actually pull it off. He’d mastered the slippery nature of West Coast swing to a tee, and it was genuinely fun to dance with him since, in true Epel fashion, I never knew exactly what he was going to do.

I could practically feel Sam’s eyes one us the entire performance as I slid to and fro along an invisible line on the floor with Epel. The relaxed nature of the dance allowed us to occasionally glance around and even sing along with the song as we pranced in quick, light steps across the floor. 

Despite the considerably high-level of our dance, Epel led me smoothly, even executing a few trick-like motions himself that had him practically smirking since he knew good and well Vil was watching. What he didn’t know was that the housewarden and vice housewarden were both watching with a smile each, almost like proud parents.

Even as we were performing I could still feel myself amused by the fact by how much the choreography was perfect for someone as young as Epel. Crewel had somehow managed to put the dance together in such a way that even though my hand remained in Epel’s we were hardly ever in closed hold for a lengthy period of time. 

Instead we remained smoothly gliding across the floor with two hands joined and the other two free. And it suited the occasionally awkward boy who wanted to seem manly at all times and might have viewed other forms of dance as too dainty for his taste.

I  turned, grinning at the judges as Sam sat back, a rather pleased smile on his face that had my hopes for Epel steadily rising. I already knew that Epel had succeeded in impressing Vil. The only remaining concern was Sam.

Those concerns faded quickly though as we approached the teacher’s table and Sam started speaking, “I was surprised that you picked a faster song considering the generally relaxed nature of the dance. But you pulled it off.”

Despite how harsh he’d been on some of the other’s performances, may Ace’s name never be forgotten, that was all Sam said to us. And that was enough.

Because when you danced swing, getting Sam’s approval was practically enough to guarantee you passed.

If you would like to read more:

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[leclercsbf]

hello!! i know you posted about this a while back but i just wanted to tell you that i honestly would love to see you write that charlos + landoscar fic (the roommates au) i just know for sure that the entire fic would be CHAOTIC because they’re all oblivious lovesick idiots at the end of the day (pls feel free to add in a splash of maxiel as well if you would like too)

and the amnesia au!! YES YES YES. i love the fact that they’re husbands too, i think it’ll be really interesting to see the dynamic between them and that like whole ‘oh’ moment charles would get when he gets his memory back (pls tell me he does gets his memory back because i cannot handle pure angst in this context)

i am so on board with the idea of the set it up au as well, i haven’t watch the film but i did watch the trailer and small parts of it and i feel like it would just make perfect sense to have lando and oscar in that context. and also the idea of having charlos and maxiel as their bosses *chefs kiss* you’re an absolute mastermind

and that line from pierre in the “woke up with lady parts” au is EVERYTHING. it’s just so pierre coded and typically like charles said there’s always an element of “fucking the other person back to normal” so i cant wait to see the direction you’re going to go in with this fic

and of course the whole jack frost and pitch idea is literally so intriguing i love your mind so much

im so sorry if this feels like added pressure i really don’t mean for it to come off that way!!

i just absolutely adore your ideas and your whole thought process and if you do plan to write these fics i hope this gives you somewhat of a motivating boost :)

sending you so much love <33

hi there! please don’t apologize. you’re free to send me asks about whatever, whenever, because asks are generally appreciated. thank you so, so much for letting me know that the ideas i mentioned piqued your interest! if anything, i’m probably going to start with the roommates fic because it seems like the lightest fic overall, but we’ll see how it goes because i haven’t written up a proper outline for either pairing. your boy has unfortunately been too busy to write. i miss it. looks off.

to be honest, i haven’t really figured out whether or not charles is getting his memory back, but angst isn’t currently on the roadmap for the amnesia au. that might change once i start writing it, but i’m not planning on any tears for now! i feel like i owe my ao3 account a bit of joy after the last charlos fic i wrote.

set it up is a very good movie, and i’m not just saying this because i have a massive crush on zoey deutch. i’m not really a romcom kind of guy but this had me very entertained, so i definitely recommend checking it out if you’re in a romcom kind of mood. that said, i don’t plan on following the movie to the letter. i’ll basically just be taking the general premise and maybe a few details here and there, because the kiss cam scene? actual genius.

you know i just had to make pierre say it, anon. i absolutely had to, because it’s a very pierre thing to say. the direction for that fic is basically homosexuality (as per usual) and i’m very excited to write it! the question of when i’ll be able to write it is an entirely different matter, but the motivation is there. believe it. i’m similarly intrigued by my own brain because i feel like it was onto something with that jack frost and pitch thing… i just wish i knew what my brain was cooking because i completely forgot. HELP. glad to know that it sounds interesting to you as well, though!

and don’t worry, it doesn’t seem like you’re pressuring me in the slightest. i really appreciate that you went out of your way to express your enthusiasm for the ideas i’ve got lying around. fic writers do what they do because it’s fun, but it always helps to know that people enjoy reading our work, too. gives us a much-needed boost. sending you just as much love, anon! i’m wishing you the best day. ♥️

[trifarian]

An independent, private, and selective RP blog for Trifarian Assessor from LOR, written by Xena. 18+ for adult themes. No affiliation with R.iot G.ames. Guidelines are under the cut.

⚜ biography . head canons . aus . prompts .

GUIDELINES AND MUN

1st: hard rules

Muse is not mun, but be respectful of both

No godmodding

No bigotry or discrimination

2nd: credits | Banner, pinned post and pfp.

3rd: content warning | This blog may contain adult themes such as: strong language/profanity, nudity, sex, violence, substance use, and traumatic themes.

4th: threading 

Please reply to asks in a new text post if you want to make a thread.

Asks are welcome from anyone (questions from personal blogs too). 

Threading and plotting will only be done with mutuals, aka RP blogs I follow back.

5th: formatting | I do normal formatting on my posts and use small text. For better reading, I ask that RP partners please keep your text posts simple, with normal punctuation and words capitalised (my vision is not the best). 

6th: following and blocking | Multi-muse, O.C., and side-blog friendly. I don’t follow for follow, so if there is too much OOC spam, untagged posts, you're a minor or there's no age on your blog, and or you’ve broken the hard rules I’ll soft-block. I don't appreciate harassment, call-outs without proof, petty and creepy behaviour, etc. so I will hard-block at my own discretion.

7th: replies | Whether it’s asks or RP threads, replies will not be instantaneous unless I have free time or am on holiday. I work full time from Monday to Saturday and attend university, so I don’t always have the brain power to write elaborate threads and interact with everyone at the same time. Also, I will use the queue to space out my replies, especially for longer threads/posts. Please write me a line if you think I might have missed out thread.

8th: shipping | If I do end up shipping Turia (romantically), ships will exist in their own separate universe, unless discussed otherwise. I don't write spicy n.sfw threads. That sort of interaction is restricted to ask memes. If you ever send in a spicy rp meme and want to reply to it in a one-shot you are absolutely free to.

9th: crossovers and aus | Provided we plot about it, I’m open to writing in other settings and AUs, and making crossovers too.

10th: the mun | Hi! My pen-name is Xena. I am 30+, she/they, bi. I love: animals (cats and birds of prey are faves), LOR, music. I'm rather chill and open to discussing muses and worldbuilding. Feel free to drop me a line if you have any questions regarding these guidelines or my portrayal. Other muses: @freljordi, @firerevealstruth; @nameaprice.

If you've read this far, please send: "For Noxus."

(So I know you've read and we break the ice, 2 for 1 deal)

[dragon-riding]

before you proceed, please note that anything posted and written on this blog is fictional and should not be recreated and/or idolized in real life; some immoral things may come up in relation to some kinks/troupes, please proceed with caution

⋆﹥ create a new memory? yes | no ﹤⋆

welcome to the memory shop! the only memory keeper here is me so you’ll have to excuse me if the service ends up a bit slow. with that said, the memory shop is only open after dark where degenerates (like me) are welcome to sit down and create new memories (or recall memories) after a long day.

currently, the memory shop is here as an archive of memories with sporadic posts being put out due to being busy with other commitments. you are welcome to browse the already existing memories + the inbox will be left open as well.

⋆﹥ are you absolutely sure? yes | no ﹤⋆

this is a place where smut will be posted. it will be kept mostly rb free however, I may reblog a few posts from time to time. 

I will be writing in 2nd pov, but there may be times I post in 3rd pov narration. no names or physical descriptions will be added. pronouns used will be she/her with an afab character.

some tropes/kinks that I gravitate towards are yandere smut, dub con, double penetration; I’ve also recently been into the innocent x experienced troupe & tend to draw out foreplay when writing. usually writes in different aus separate from canon tl as well.

this information post is long but I do hope you take the time to read through the entire post instead of skimming if you plan on placing an order for a memory.

⋆﹥ view strictly forbidden list? yes | no ﹤⋆

any kinks/troupes on this list will not be written (italics means I am uncomfortable with them - they are all hard nos and will not be negotiated, normal text means I’m not confident enough/I don’t have enough knowledge about them to write)

anything relating to minors - pedophilia, teacher x student, etc non con vore watersports incest pregnancy related requests

I will inform you if any kinks/troupes I’m uncomfortable with are sent in and will add it to this list accordingly. I’m pretty open to hearing about things so feel free to drop in a normal q in the inbox if you want to know the troupe/kink you want is okay before requesting.

⋆﹥ place an order? yes | no ﹤⋆

[the memory shop is: CLOSED for requests]

currently only accepting short & long headcannon requests for twisted wonderland

short requests will most likely consist of 1 short scene written in casual bullet points for each character (recommended to not include a lot of kinks for this memory creation option)

long requests will focus on only 1 character and expand on kinks mentioned in said request (more kinks are allowed for this memory creation option)

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[mrs-gucci]

Rough Around the Edges {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! taking a quick break from all the fourth of july stuff to submit this piece for this week’s writer wednesday :) thanks @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape​ for organizing this wonderful weekly event!

this story takes place in a medieval AU and is lightly inspired by certain elements in “Beauty and the Beast”.

warnings: angst with a hopeful ending. partially unreciprocated feelings. arranged courtship. time period-authentic sexism (women are meant to please men and that’s all). there’s a kiss.

(possible) tw’s: arranged relationship. implied age gap (not specified, but everyone’s above age).

word count: a touch over 2k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee​​ @pascalisfairyy​​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

You sit in front of the mirror while Anna pulls your hair into a flattering updo. Your eyes begin to tear up at the painful sting of your hair being manipulated in such a forceful way, scalp throbbing with each of Anna’s harsh, calculated movements.

"Must you be so rough?”

She offers little empathy in her expression as she looks at you through the mirror’s reflection. “The Prince insisted that you wear your hair up tonight, madame. He was absolutely furious when you wore it down the last time, and I’m the one who had to stand there while he threw a tantrum over it.”

Your eyes roll, knowing all too well of your betrothed’s legendary fits of anger. He’s much too old to be doing such childish things, but god forbid you ever say that to him.

Anna finishes up with your hair, much to your relief, but now the real pain begins. You look over at the corset waiting on the bed and already, your ribcage aches.

“What, are you trying to turn it to stone?” She asks, and you shake your head. “Well, you’re certainly staring at it long enough. Come on now, stand up, we don’t have all afternoon.”

You sigh, rising up out of the chair and walking over to the bed where Anna’s standing, corset in-hand. She wraps it around your torso, pulling the laces impossibly tight over your ribs and stomach, caging them both within the garment. 

After the corset is very securely tied, Anna grabs your dress and helps you step into the golden yellow skirt. She ties the top part with just as much aggression as she tied the corset, making simply breathing a painful process.

“Try to at least look like you don’t want to jump out of the East tower’s window.” Anna remarks as you scowl at your reflection in the mirror. “Have you ever considered smiling?”

“I have absolutely nothing to smile about.” You reply curtly, unamused by this conversation or her suggestions.

She sighs in defeat. “I’m only trying to help, madame. You need to learn how to be a princess, or at least try and act the part.”

“I’m not interested in being a princess, Anna. But, if you ever asked my opinion on the matter, then you’d already know that. Now please, I wish to be alone.”

Anna’s surprised at the hostile tone of your words, but she keeps her lips pursed, knowing she’s in no place to press the issue any further. She simply nods, backing out of the room, leaving you alone.

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as your vision blurs with tears, abruptly turning away from the mirror so that you don’t have to look at what you’ve been forced to become.

There’s nothing that you wish for more than to be free from this life, free to live the way you want to live instead of the one that was chosen for you to live. You loathe the mask you must wear, the painted face that looks back at you through the mirror.

But, you have no choice...you’ve never had a choice.

-

The palace is aglow this evening, thousands of candles burning and casting a warmer shade across the normally-bland ivory color. Your shoes clink on the marble flooring as you make your way to the front steps, looking over the railing at the grand room below.

Lords and ladies, princes and princesses are all arm-in-arm, walking through to the ballroom. Some have stopped to converse with each other, fake smiles plastered on their painted faces. 

You huff to yourself as you reach the top of the staircase, and at the bottom, stands your betrothed. He looks up as you make your way down the stairs, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with each step you take.

Kylo holds his hand out to you when you reach the bottom, guiding you down the final stair before looping his arm through yours. The two of you walk towards the ballroom, smiling and nodding politely at the other guests.

“You look nice.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

You huff in false amusement, physically having to prevent your eyes from rolling. “Am I supposed to thank you for saying that?”

"Ah, you’re learning.” He says, stopping to look down at you, fingers holding your chin and forcing you to look up at him while his eyes linger over your face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little dove.”

You yank your chin from his grip, snarling softly. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand suddenly comes up to wrap around your throat, teeth bared. “I can touch you however I please, young one. You’re mine, and you ought to learn your place.”

Once he feels you relax, feels you surrender under his touch, he lets go of your neck and continues walking as if nothing’s happened, dragging you along with him.

He wears you on his arm the whole evening as he talks to various noblemen and you just stand there, silent with a small smile, pretending like you don’t exist. 

Then, the two of you take a seat at the big table with King Han and Queen Leia, beginning to feast on the royal spread. You barely eat, partially due to the fact that you’re afraid to bust the ties on your corset if your abdomen expands even a little bit too far, and Kylo seems to take notice.

“I promise I didn’t poison it.”

You look over at him with widened eyes. He simply smirks, laughing softly to himself.

“I’m only joking, little dove.”

You’re incredibly surprised, stunned into utter silence at the fact that he’s just joked with you. You'd been convinced up until this point that humor wasn’t a part of his emotional capabilities, that he was only capable of anger, hatred, and inflicting fear. 

His hand hesitantly rests on top of yours, which makes you flinch. He looks conflicted in the moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not to be upset that you react this way to his touch.

“Why aren’t you eating? You need to eat.”

You look away, jaw clenching. “I know you don’t actually care why I’m not eating, Kylo. Plus, none of my answers will be good enough to please you, anyway.”

He stiffens, pulling his hand away immediately.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. He almost sounds...upset. Not upset at you, though, upset at himself. 

The rest of the time he’s silent, only glancing over at you occasionally. Dessert comes around and you don’t even touch it, simply sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.

Couples rise from their tables as the musicians begin to play an upbeat tempo, gathering on the ballroom floor. Kylo stands up next to you, holding out his hand without a word.

You rise from your chair and take his extended hand, allowing him to lead you out to the ballroom floor. Dancing was customary in Alderaan and was a very popular practice at gathering’s like this. 

Kylo’s large hands drop to your waist as soon as you reach the floor and you reach up to rest your hands on his broad shoulders. The two of you sway in unison and make your way around the dance floor skillfully, gracefully. 

After the song comes to an end and another slower one begins, the Prince tilts his head down to look at you. His face is stoic, unchanging, but there’s something different about this look. It’s not as harsh or as emotionless as it normally is; there’s a certain gentleness to it.

Your eyes keep his gaze, looking back up at him with a curious glint in your eyes, drinking in his up-close appearance for truly the first time since you’ve arrived in Alderaan. He’s intoxicatingly handsome, there’s no getting around that, but his personality and temper leave a lot to be desired.

Yet, despite his hostility and distaste for you, you still find yourself temporarily entranced by his presence, melting under his gaze. It’s in this moment that you catch a glimpse into your own psyche, recognizing the true source of your vehement hate and closed-off behavior towards him. 

All of it is done out of a desire to hide your attraction to the man that you’ve tried so, so hard to dislike. There’s always been a small part of you that’s known this, but you figured that if you pushed it down long enough and acted otherwise, perhaps you’d eventually convince yourself otherwise. But, alas, those feelings of attraction have only grown and festered beneath the facade of hatred.

It is true, Kylo Ren is a moody, closed-off, hostile and frankly childish being, but you’re somehow able to look past that and see the diamond-in-the-rough quality to the young Prince. You know that somewhere, behind the stone wall he’s so clearly built up around himself, there’s a goodness to him. You’ve seen glimpses of it throughout the time you’ve known him, but he almost immediately shuts it down instead of letting it show further, a fact you find incredibly perplexing.

“Y/N?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You snap from your temporary trance and shake your head. “Sorry, I was deep in thought.”

“I gathered.” He chuckles softly. “If I asked what it is you were thinking about, would you tell me the truth?”

“Probably not.”

He nods. “I appreciate your honesty.”

The two of you continue to move around the floor before the handsome Prince clears his throat, cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink.

“May I ask you a question, completely unrelated to my previous inquiry?”

You nod, and he swallows harshly.

“What is it about me that you loathe so much?”

Your stomach drops and you suddenly feel a touch of lightheadedness begin to pressurize within your skull. You’re frozen for a moment as you try to decide whether or not to tell him the truth.

“I don’t...why are you asking me such a thing? I know you don’t actually care about the answer.”

His jaw clenches and his grip suddenly tightens on your hips. “Why do you always insist that I don’t care?”

“Because I know you don’t, Kylo. At least, not truly.” You reply, squirming beneath his grip.

“W-Well, what if...” He huffs, looking away. “What if I do care? Or am at least trying to care?”

You’re genuinely surprised by his words, taken aback for a moment. This is a turn you certainly didn’t see coming...

“I find your ever-changing moods and stubbornness often makes you difficult to deal with. You never try, at least up until this point, to understand my feelings or show any sort of interest in getting to know me, which just makes me feel even more unwanted than I already do, and I--”

Before you can continue, you’re cut off by a sudden presence on your lips. It registers in your mind, then, that he’s kissing you. You stiffen, and he pulls away slowly, eyes staring into yours.

“You are not unwanted, Y/N.” He says, voice low. “Never...p-please never think that.”

Did he just say ‘please’? That’s almost the most shocking thing he’s said thus far.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Kylo. Just...a little rough around the edges.”

His entire demeanor shifts for a moment, and for a split second, you swear he looks happy; truly, genuinely happy. Perhaps a bit of relief was sprinkled in, too. He wears a small, barely-there smile as he continues to look down at you.

“I would like to try and change. We should at least try to get along, considering the fact that we’ll be wed soon. I know you don’t want to be here, but I’d like to at least try to make things a bit easier, h-however I can.”

You can’t stop the smile that quickly spreads across your face, delightfully pleased to hear these words. Your expression widens his smile ever so slightly.

“I think we can certainly give it a try.”

Kylo nods, a subtly optimistic expression etched on his features.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

[baekhansol]

prologue: pretty please

pairing: werewolf!jackson x f!reader

genre: werewolf au, fluff, smut, angsty ending | rated: mature

word count: 3.6K

warnings: lying, fluff, oral (f receiving), slight orgasm denial, sort of nipple play (reader on self), unprotected sex, knotting, sort of awful sex I'm sorry jackson, angsty ending, and lmk if i am missing anything!

note: so this is the prologue to a series I am writing!! i hope you all really like it! I actually decided today it fits as more of a prologue than a chapter one, so :p please enjoy and maybe give me feedback idk also i know the smut in it sucks i'm sorry

You often found yourself in the library during the day, studying and doing homework or taking a break and watching anime. You had been sitting there for an hour or so, and it was starting to get busy. It always did around midterms and finals; you were just glad you found your own small table to sit at.

You were working on a paper when someone came up, smiling a bit awkwardly. “Hey, would you mind if I sit here? I’ll be quiet, I promise,” He says, hesitating to sit down. He had an accent that you couldn’t quite place, as it only happened with some words.

When you finish the sentence you were typing and look up, you do your best to hide your surprise at how handsome he was. He was absolutely stunning, making you question your own appearance. “Oh, um, sure,” you say, your cheeks flushing with heat as you make room for him.

“I’m Jackson, by the way,” He says as he pulls out the chair and sits, getting himself comfortable across from you.

“I’m Y/N,” you respond, still blushing.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, offering a charming smile as he pulls out his laptop.

The next week at the same time, he showed up again and asked, “Y/N, is it alright if I join you?”

You nod, a shy smile finding its way onto your face. “What are you studying?” you eventually ask him, tilting your head slightly.

“Business,” Jackson says, glancing up at you with a smile. “Actually, it’s my masters and I’m focusing on international business. What about you?”

When you tell him, he listens intently and asks polite questions- the right ones, too. Not the usual ones you always get.

The next week you’re running late and stop at the vending machine to grab your favorite candy. Going to your usual table, you do a double take when someone is already there. You pause awkwardly, only to realize it was Jackson waiting there with a second cup of coffee.

“Oh, hey Jackson,” you say, blushing as you join him.

He smiles at you, pushing one of the cups towards you. “I got you a coffee, just the way you like it.”

You suspiciously tilt your head, taking a sip, only to be surprised that it was the way you liked your coffee. “How did you know?” you laugh, getting out your laptop.

“I know some of the workers,” he sheepishly admits. You laugh and open the candy, offering him some.

“I shouldn’t, I’m on a diet,” he says with a pout.

“Oh, come on,” you scoff, raising an eyebrow.

He playfully rolls his eyes before grabbing a piece.

Soon, every Tuesday you would meet up with Jackson in the library. Before midterms, it became every Tuesday and Thursday until finals, when it was almost every day. It was on one of these Thursdays that he asked you, “Are you free tomorrow?”

You tilt your head, wondering what he was getting to. He seemed to always have plans on Fridays during your normal study time, and you tried not to study too late since the library closed early. “Uh, no, I don’t think so? Why do you ask?” you respond.

“Well, I was thinking that I could take you for a date! If you wanted to, that is…”

You could tell he was a little nervous, and you realized you were staring at him blankly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, nodding. “Yes, sorry, I was just… yes, I would like that,” you admit, shaking your head some.

“Great! I can pick you up after your class tomorrow? Just make sure you dress warm!” he says with a grin.

“You already have a plan? What is it? Tell me~?” you ask, pouting a little bit.

“Nope, it’s a secret!” he laughs, smiling brightly. “You have to wait until tomorrow to know!”

The next day, you woke up early to get ready. You wore warm clothes like he said, and did your makeup cutely but not excessively, especially since it seemed like you would be outside. In class, you were extra fidgety and kept checking the clock. It felt like time slowed, but you knew it was from your anticipation.

Right on cue as class ended, your phone vibrated. Checking it, you noticed a text from Jackson saying he was outside the building.

You all but run out of the classroom down to the parking lot, finding him standing outside grinning.

“Will you tell me what we are doing now?” you ask, giving him your puppy dog eyes.

“Maybe,” he teases, leading you to his car. He opens the door for you and even shuts it, getting in on the other side. “Does hiking sound okay? Then takeout and a movie at my place?” Jackson asks. You see a hopeful glint and the worry in his eyes, and your smile grows.

“That sounds wonderful!” you tell him.

“Great!” he says, starting to drive. “You’ll love it! I go here quite often, and it’s very pretty. I’ve seen some deer and some really neat birds before there.”

“Oh, really? Do you know what kinds of birds?” you ask, curious.

“Well, I’m not sure since they’re not the same as back home, but definitely some owls! I went out later than I should have. And I don’t know if it was a falcon, eagle, or hawk. But those too.”

“I think we have all three here,” you laugh.

“Well, that really doesn’t help identify it any, now does it,” he laughs with you.

“Not in the slightest,” you giggle.

“Well I guess if we see them, maybe you’ll know,” Jackson says, turning onto a gravel road.

“What am I, a bird expert now?” you laugh more.

“No, you’re just a native here,” he responds with a little pout.

“Still not a bird expert,” you point out.

“I know, but you will know better than me,” he reasons.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you say, shaking your head as he parks in a small parking lot.

“We are here!” Jackson says, turning off the car. He leads you over to the map by the trail entrance, glancing at it once before heading down.

“We’ll follow the blue markers this time,” he says, pointing them out on the tree.

“What do they mean? You didn’t give me time to read the map,” you say with a huff.

“They mean we’re going the correct way,” he tells you smartly.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“I know. And there’s nothing you can do about it but follow me and find out,” he teases you, taking your hand and leading you.

You’re both careful not to trip over any of the roots or loose rocks, and you start getting glances of white.

“Is that a river?” you ask, glancing at what looked like ice.

“Uh, maybe,” Jackson responded in an unbelievable manner. Of course he knew, he just wasn’t going to tell you.

Eventually, you made it to more of a clearing. Jackson didn’t even have to point to what it was he wanted to show you. You stood in awe instead.

Winter was definitely there, and you knew that since the little fountains on campus were frozen over. But this, this was a sight to behold. The entire river had frozen over, and what must usually be a gorgeous waterfall had frozen over. The water had frozen against the rocks, sharp spears of it dangerously hanging from the main body of water. You swore if the sun was just right, you could see some of the water on the very inside running down inside the thick, frozen ice.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jackson asks you, his voice hushed. All you could do was nod.

The next Tuesday, you got to the library first. “Want to go on a second date?” you bluntly ask him when he joins you.

He laughs before smiling, nodding. “Of course, I’d love to,” Jackson assures you.

You’re not sure if you can ever end up choosing a favorite date by the time finals end. Your last “date” was taking him to the airport. He was going home for the break, and you wanted to take him.

“I guess this is as far as we can go, huh?” you ask sadly, looking at the security checkpoint.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jackson says, fidgeting with his ticket as if he were nervous.

“Well, I’m sure everything will go well…” you say, almost more nervous than he was. “I mean, you’ve flown lots of times before, so this shouldn’t be any different…” you start to ramble in an attempt to console him.

He chuckles a little, gently putting his hand on your shoulder before tilting up your chin.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Jackson softly asks, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your heart leaped in your chest. You thought of him as your boyfriend, but you weren’t sure if you were official or not, so it made you a little nervous. But at his question, your lips smiled on their own, and you nod as much as you can for his hand holding onto your chin. “Yes!” you whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, causing you to blush and nod. Once given consent, he kisses you sweetly.

“I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?” Jackson says as he pulls away and picks up his things.

“Alright… be safe,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks burn.

“I will,” he assures you, kissing your cheek before leaving.

A few days later, when he was over jet lag, you face timed him. You were eating breakfast at the time, and he was eating dinner.

“How are you?” You ask, happy to see him again and hear his voice.

“I’m doing much better now that I get to see my beautiful girlfriend~” he coos playfully, causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay. How was the plane trip? How are things going back home?” you ask, wanting more details.

“It went well, don’t worry. I am home safe, although it is a bit hectic at times,” he assures you.

“Why is it hectic? You’re on a break~ you need to relax!” you tell him with a huff.

“I know, I know, don’t worry, I am,” he again assures you.

“You better be,” you huff back, pouting slightly.

Just like that, your library dates were replaced with virtual ones. Some days you could only talk for a few minutes, some days you went on for hours. Every now and then, he even would sing you to sleep. You always slept well when he would.

When the holidays came, he ended up sending you a cd of songs he recorded to help you sleep.

When the semester started up again, you would meet in the library Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays this time. You sat at the same table, but also flirted more when you studied. You made sure to keep up your grades, since they were incredibly important to you.

After the initial start up hump of the beginning of the semester, you started to remember something strange about Jackson that you had forgotten or just hadn’t had the time to realize before. It wasn’t quite a gut feeling of danger, but a feeling of something was wrong. He would get sick nearly every month for a few days without fail. In the last week of January, Jackson was out sick for over a week.

The following Monday, Jackson comes back to the library, and you immediately perk up. “Jackson, how are you feeling? Your roommate told me you were sick,” you ask him.

“I was, but I am feeling much better now,” he assures you, smiling.

You felt a tug in your stomach, and you knew he was lying. “Jackson, you get sick more often than… well, anyone I know. What’s wrong?” you insist.

He sighs, his smile faltering. “I have an immune disorder. I don’t like talking about it much, but I often get sick,” he tells you.

So, you believed him.

You believed him until your introductory anatomy course went over autoimmune disorders. He didn’t fit any of the basic descriptions for them. You ended up choosing to do a paper on the topic, so you ended up pressuring him more when he was at your place for a movie date night.

“Jackson, I’ve been working on a paper for autoimmune disorders. I may have to narrow it down to one in particular… So, I was wondering what one you had?” you ask him, wanting to be a supportive girlfriend.

He sighs and seems irritated about it, and you couldn’t quite tell what was wrong. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you…” he admits, shocking you.

You felt like you had told him everything. You told him about your asthma, how your therapy sessions went, what you wanted to improve on, your insecurities about your body, even sexual things you had thought about eventually exploring with him.

But he couldn’t tell you this? After you told him about your mental health issues? You were shocked and speechless.

After a moment, you finally catch your thoughts. “Jackson… you know you can tell me anything, right?” you say softly, frowning and not realizing you were tearing up.

Jackson’s face softens, and he pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, I know. You’re right,” he soothes, sighing slightly. “I just… don’t want you to hate me or think I am a freak or anything,” he further admits.

“Jackson, I love you. I could never,” you whisper. It was the first time you had said that.

His heart melts at your words, and he started tearing up. You pull away, and he cups your cheeks.

He lets out a short sigh, making up his mind. “Alright baby. Well, I’ll just say it,” he tells you, now opting to hold your hands. Jackson gently squeezes them as he admits, “I’m a werewolf.”

You pause, staring at him as you replay his words in your mind. You then pull away and laugh, shaking your head. “No, seriously Jackson,” you say, feeling anxious. Why would he lie to you?

“I am being serious,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Then-then prove it,” you say, but it comes out as more of a question.

Jackson sighs softly, tilting his head some. “Alright. Count to ten and come into your room,” he says, going in.

You huff, counting out loud.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You stand up and head towards your room.

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

You turn the doorknob and say, “I’m coming in now.”

You open the door and are immediately greeted with a massive wolf. Oddly enough, he had the eyes of Jackson.

You quickly shut your door, knowing you weren’t allowed to have pets in your building.

“Um…” you begin, staring at him in confusion. You look around the room, wondering where Jackson was, only to notice his clothes on the floor. “So, you’re really-?” you begin, looking at the wolf again.

He nods and you groan, covering your face with your hands.

You hear him jump off the bed, and after hearing snapping and popping, you glance up and see Jackson pulling his pants back on. You quickly look away, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at his well defined body.

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smirking because he knew.

"Well this is rather awkward. What immune disorder do I choose to write about now?" You say with a laugh.

"Sorry babe. Let's go watch that movie now, yeah?" He suggests, taking your hand and leading you back to the living room.

After learning about werewolves, Jackson would take you on hiking dates. Sometimes he would run around as a wolf, and other times you would ride him like a horse, which was probably ridiculous to look at, if anyone ever saw you. But he liked to show off.

After finals, you stayed with him for a week. You weren't ready to go home yet, but you already had to move out of the dorm you were staying in.

You were cuddling with him and watching a movie. You felt your insides burn with anxiety, having been wanting to tell him something for a while, but too embarrassed to say. See, once you admitted you were a virgin, Jackson took things very slowly with you. You enjoyed giving him blowjobs after he taught you about how he would knot, and the furthest he went on you was giving you oral once.

But now you felt ready to progress your relationship further, but you didn't know how to say it.

"Jackson," you say, feeling your cheeks heating up.

"Yes, baby?" He says, looking at you. He knew something was up and you needed to tell him something, but he honestly had no idea what it would be.

"I… think I'm ready," you admit, nibbling your lip.

"Ready for what?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Having sex," you bashfully admit.

"Oh," he says, surprised. "Right now?" He asks, trying not to sound too eager.

You shake your head. "No, not right now. But soon," you assure him, feeling embarrassed.

"Well, I don't mind waiting a little longer," he assures you, kissing the top of your head.

One minute you were grinding on Jackson, making out on the couch. The next, you and Jackson were both naked in bed. He lays you down, hovering over you as he kisses you.

“Jackson, can I give you a blowjob?”

“Don’t worry about making me feel good. I want to eat you out,” he says, pulling away from you and spreading your legs.

“Yes please,” you say, nodding softly.

He kisses your thighs, teasing you by biting and marking them. He knew this made you needy, as your thighs were sensitive. Jackson eventually kisses your clit, causing you to moan. He smirks as he licks your folds, maintaining eye contact as you blush.

“We’ve done this how many times? And you always get so bashful,” Jackson gently teases, quickly going to work.

He sucks your clitoris, his tongue flicking it as your juices leak out and onto his chin. Your hand grabs his hair, tugging as you moan. Jackson uses his strong arms to keep your legs open. He notices your hole clenching around nothing, boosting his ego.

Jackson inserts a finger, curling it up against your g spot, which causes you to cry out his name.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers against your folds, pausing his kisses to your mound as he adds a second finger, working on stretching you out.

“Feels so good,” you whine, gasping as he adds a third finger. “I’m close,” you pant, reaching down to rub your clit. Jackson stops you and pulls out his fingers with a smirk.

“Jackson?!” you gasp, pouting that he took away your orgasm.

“I want to cum with you,” he explains, smiling sweetly.

You sigh and lay your head back down, nodding.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use condoms?” Jackson checks, raising an eyebrow.

“Positive. You said yourself I wasn’t fertile,” you admit, blushing some.

“Alright,” he says, teasing your folds with his tip. Jackson watches as your hole clenches around nothing, desperately wanting his cock.

“Please Jackson,” you huff, not liking how he began to rub his cock against your folds.

“I’m getting myself lubricated,” Jackson smugly responds, grinding into you, tapping his cock against your swollen bud.

“Fuck~” you cry, pulling your hair. “Please Jackson, I want to have sex with you,” you beg, tearing up in need.

“Hmm, alright,” Jackson says, slowly sliding his tip inside of you. He grabs your hands and kisses you, letting you adjust to his girth. He slowly slides in, huffing into your ear softly.

“Jackson, please move,” you beg once he bottoms out.

“Yes ma’am,” he teases you, starting with slow thrusts. Jackson greedily watches your breasts bounce with each thrust, a near-feral grin finding its way on his face.

“Faster, please,” you murmur, doing your best to keep your eyes open as you squeeze his hands.

He readily obliges, and you groan as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room with both of your moans.

“I’m not gonna last that long,” he admits with a laugh.

You nod and he lets go of one of your hands, rubbing your clit. You grab your breast and pinch your nipples, stimulating yourself as you near your high.

He suddenly begins to cum with a loud groan of your name, his thrusts harder than before. You cry out in pleasure, which soon turns into a whimper as he begins to knot you.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, you’re doing so good,” Jackson begins to praise. It takes all of his strength not to collapse on top of you, but he manages to nuzzle into your neck and kiss your sweet spot there.

You groan softly, brushing your damp hair out of your eyes. “I love you,” you say, smiling tiredly.

“I love you too.”

You wake up the next day naked and alone in bed. You look around, wondering where Jackson went. “Jackson?” you softly call, looking for him.

But something about his apartment was… off.

You carefully get up, your legs feeling a bit weak, and go use the bathroom. His toothbrush and razor were missing.

You go out into the kitchen and living room, and still no Jackson.

When you go back into the bedroom, you notice that his phone was missing. You open the closet and his dresser, and there were no clothes.

For one whatever reason, Jackson was gone.

[kenzumekodma]

18+ only, minors do not interact

pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader, politician au

warnings: power imbalance, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, cum swallowing, finger sucking, teensiest bit of praise, one instance of canadian spelling

summary: if this was going to happen, you might as well commit to it. there were worse people to fuck on a monday morning than shouto todoroki.

wc: 2.5k

His father’s the highest ranking politician in the prefecture, you remind yourself. Just grit your teeth and bear it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Shouto. No, he didn’t like you, was more like it. Ever since you took on the job as his assistant you’ve shouldered this feeling that absolutely seeped from him, this feeling that he was inherently superior to you and you were nothing. A means to an end.

At first his quiet indifference bothered you, but as the weeks wore into months, into nearly a year… really you just stopped giving a shit. Sure, you’d gone into this job bright eyed and bushy tailed, answering with a quick yes sir, no sir to any questions he asked you. Slowly, though, your energy dropped, your output matching Shouto’s.

Coming into your work anniversary, a time when you’d imagined you’d be kicking your feet up for a night and enjoying a lighter workload, if not a night off, you walked into the office to a more chaotic scene. You groaned into the plastic lid of your to-go coffee. The hot liquid was your only saving grace. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath through your nose, steeled yourself as you held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled through your mouth, lips closed into a small ‘o’. With renewed nerves, you open your eyes and walk into the elevator, making your way towards Mr. Todoroki’s office.

Large solid walnut doors met you a few short strides away from the elevator. Balancing your coffee, Mr. Todoroki’s tea, and your work bag precariously but with the confidence that comes with practice as you turned the brushed bronze handle. As expected, Mister Perfect was sat behind his desk. Larger than it really needs to be, you thought, like so many things tend to be when you’re living off the bank of Daddy’s Popularity.

“What’s all the fuss about downstairs?” you asked, setting Shouto’s tea down on the coaster he had waiting for it, just like he had every day for a year. He shrugged.

“Elections are coming up. My old man wants me to run for a seat on council.”

You nodded. “And that’s why I woke up to an email this morning from Endeavor offices saying Mr. Todoroki Sr. is scheduled to come by at 10:30 today with exactly zero context.” Shoto nodded once.

“There’s no point in stopping him. He has the knowledge and I need it, I guess.”

You sighed, resigned to planning a last minute visit for the man who’s effectively your boss’s boss.

“It’s too bad,” he started, pausing to take a sip of tea. Deadpan expression still resting on your face, you quirk a brow at him, a silent what? hanging in the air. “Too bad that my old man will have to see you like this. You’ve changed since he hired you for me,” Shoto said as he stood, tea placed flawlessly in the centre of its coaster. He stalked around the desk, getting ever closer to you. Instinctively, you went to place your coffee on the desk, but you caught yourself, putting your work bag on the floor, bending to pick up your planner from it. You missed Shouto’s eyes grazing down the back of your form, hesitating at your thighs, where their plushness was accentuated by the hem of your tight, light grey skirt digging in slightly. You slid your planner onto the luxury desk, using it as a makeshift coaster for your cup.

The corner of Shouto’s lip turned up almost imperceptibly. “You used to be so polite, y/n.” He took another step towards you and you froze in confusion.

“I…” you trailed off.

“You what?” he goaded, getting closer to you again. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the aforementioned not giving a shit, maybe it was the surprise stress of Enji Todoroki’s insistence on the election, but you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and speak your mind to your boss for the first time.

“I just, I know that you think of me as lesser, and it’s true. I am. I know that, you know that. You’re political royalty and I’m just trying to make rent. So what’s the point in trying to get you to respect me with pretty words?”

“Lesser, is that so?” he murmured. He was upon you now, slender hand reaching out to take your chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger. A mixture of confidence and careful carelessness swirled behind Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes. Bicoloured hair slipped from its place to frame his sculpted cheekbones as he looked down at you.

“I’m a means to your end, and likewise for you. If we’re going to use each other we should feel good too, right? Now, wouldn’t you say the best place for inferior little girls like you is on their knees?” His eyes flickered to your lips, to your eyes, to your lips again. The last three honeyed words dripped from his lips and straight to your panties making you clench around nothing. The span of four minutes and he’d already flipped everything you thought about him on its head.

In your doe-eyed stupor you hadn’t even noticed how fucking wet you’d gotten although it was undeniable when your thighs rubbed together as you shifted your weight back and forth.

“Well?” Shouto asked, voice quiet. You nodded, bringing his hand up and down with your face. He patted your cheek. “That’s what I thought. Down,” he commanded. Shame rose in you as you dropped to the floor, flush crawling up your neck making you feel as red as half of your boss’s hair.

You looked up at him for further instruction to see him unbuttoning the top two buttons of his expensive linen shirt. Instinctively you lifted your hands to unbuckle his designer belt, but he swatted them away.

“What makes you think you’re worthy of touching anything of mine? This costs more than your salary,” he sneered.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Sorry what?”

“Sorry, Mr. Todoroki,” you corrected yourself.

“Not quite. Try again,” he tutted. You felt the heat rise from your neck to your cheeks, causing you to turn your gaze downward.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled.

“I can’t hear you all the way down there. Speak up,” Shouto demanded.

“I, I’m sorry Sir,” you said, louder this time and with more confidence. If this was going to happen, you figured you might as well commit to it. There were worse people to fuck on a Monday morning than Shouto Todoroki.

“Better,” he said approvingly. He slipped his buckle and belt off with ease, unbuttoning his charcoal grey slacks. Your eyes followed his hands downwards and it finally hit you just how big of a dick print was practically staring you in the face. He pulled up the once tucked in shirt tails and bunched them up around his toned stomach. Agony, his pace freeing his cock was absolute agony. His length was impressive, on the longer side of anyone you’d been with before. And his girth. It was a lot like the man himself, surprisingly thick but beautiful. The vein running along the underside of his cock made your mouth water with anticipation.

He let it out of his hand and it rested heavily on your lips.

“Please, Sir…” you said, licking your lips just enough to tease him with the sensation of your tongue. Shouto bit back a groan but nodded his head. You gave his cock an exploratory lick up the underside. A low noise rumbled in his chest, which you took as encouragement to continue. Hesitantly, you lifted a hand up to his waist and dragged your nails down his abdomen lightly, causing him to weave his fingers through your hair and grip tightly. God forbid the political Prince Charming be anything but in charge.

He guided your head up an inch or so. Holding his length in his other hand, he tapped the flushed tip against your cherry lips and you comply, parting them without a thought in your head besides Shouto’s cock. You close your mouth around his head and suck lightly, savouring the ever so slightly salty taste of his precum against your tongue. Shouto guided your head back for a better view.

He’s been watching and waiting for months, wondering what your lips would look like wrapped around him with every sharp barb that rolled off your tongue. The reality of it was better than he’d imagined. The silky wetness of your mouth just fueled his lust further. What would your sweet pussy feel like around him? Would you let him in?

His facade faltered, and he bucked his hips into you. Your throat tightened around him and your eyes watered. Something in the way he treated you ignited a fierce competition within you. If his actions were a challenge, you took it and one upped him, taking as much of him as possible. Your nose nuzzled into the base of his cock, taking in the musky scent of his sex with every breath you tried to take. Bracing yourself with your hands on his chest, you swallowed around him. Shouto shudders and his fingers leave your scalp. He pets your hair gently, and for a split second as you looked up at him with curiosity, you saw genuine fondness written across his face. Whatever prompted it, he shoved it aside and gripped your wrists together in his larger hand, pinning them against him above your head.

His movement took you by surprise. Surprises normally caused dread to pool in your tummy. This particular surprise caused arousal to bubble inside instead, it caused you to rub your thighs together as best you could for just a tiny bit, any bit of delicious friction you could get. It wasn’t enough, and you let out a half moan, half whine sound that vibrated up Shouto’s cock.

“Pretty girl’s a little slut, huh? Likes being helpless? Keep going.” he sneered at you.

You nodded as best as you could without letting off of his dick, drool pooling at the sides of your mouth. God, the absolute debauchery of what this man would have you do for him, it made your thighs clench. Desperation evident in your actions, you moan around him, moving yourself as much as your tight little skirt would allow. Shouto shuddered and took your jaw in his fine, slender hand.

“Enough,” he hissed, pulling your mouth off of his cock. His breath came in shallow pants, the only tell that he was as affected as you were. The way you licked your lips as soon as they were unoccupied made him bite back a moan. You looked fucking delicious in that moment, a summer fruit ripe for the picking.

“Up,” he commanded. You tried your best to stand up with your balance off kilter. Really, Shouto ended up pulling you to your feet more than anything else. He turned you around, advanced on you until your ass was bumping against his desk, and then he took one step further, leaving you no choice but to shimmy up onto the surface.

“Is… is this okay?” you asked, and Shouto let out a chuckle.

“You’re just asking that now? I should be asking you instead,” he said. He leaned down and latched his lips onto your neck. “Well?” he murmured into your skin, fingers dancing at the hem of your skirt. “You wanna be my own little whore?”

“Yes… please, Sir,” you whimpered. That’s all he needed to hear to lift you up just enough to slide your skirt past the swell of your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. He probed a finger along your covered slit. He stops at the wet patch over your aching core.

“Excited, are we?” he teases, moving your panties to the side and circling his finger around your hole, stopping just shy of dipping inside. “Tell me who this belongs to.”

“‘s yours, Sir. ‘s all yours, I’m all yours, belong to you, please, wanna be full,” you whined.

“That’s right, this belongs to me. I’m gonna take what’s mine,” he said. You didn’t know whether he meant your sopping wet pussy or your whole self but at that point you were ready to give him anything he asked for just for him to touch you, to make you cum. You let out a choked moan when he slid his middle finger unceremoniously into your fluttering walls, no longer clenching around nothing. Even one finger was a stretch for you. Not like he cared to let you get too used to it, he was more occupied with the idea of getting you to come undone on his hand.

He added a second finger and began rubbing your clit with his thumb. The urgent moans of his name and Sir, please careening from your lips sounded like the sweetest sonata he would ever hear.

“Please what?” he asked.

“Please, wanna… need to… please lemme cum,” you begged, head pressed forward into his chest.

“Let me cum, what?” Shouto goaded. “Just because you’re being fucked dumb doesn’t mean you get to forgo your manners. Remember your lesson?” he tutted, curling his finger into your bundle of nerves.

“Please, let me cum, Sir,” you gasped out.

“Go on, then. Cum.”

Your already tight muscles contracted around his fingers desperately as he stroked your spongy walls to your release. You came with a broken yelp, earning a look of smug satisfaction from the man looming over you.

He scissored his fingers once more, just to hear you mewl from the overstimulation of your fucked out cunt, your eyes scrunched shut to keep yourself grounded. The feeling of his messy fingers tapping at your bottom lip had you opening your mouth obediently.

“Keep it open,” he ordered. You opened your eyes to see Shouto had led you back onto your knees in front of him. His free hand fisted his cock inches from your face. You opened your mouth wider and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck…” he groaned. Just a few more thrusts and he was painting the inside of your mouth and his fingers white with his cum.

“Close,” he said, and you close your mouth. “Clean it up.”

You sucked gently on his fingers, making sure to swirl your tongue around his knuckles and his nails, wanting nothing more than to please him, to be privy to that little bit of softness and praise you were sure he hid away for special occasions.

When his fingers were free of the mixture of your releases, he slid his fingers from your mouth and took your chin in his hand. He tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Good girl,” he cooed. Heat rose to your cheeks at his praise, and he helped you to your feet again.

No sooner than you’d rearranged your clothing came a knock to the huge walnut doors, a deep voice booming from the other side.

“Shouto?”

[cafeacademia]

Guardian | Chapter One

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: As you navigate your fifth year at Hogwarts, you reflect on the things that have led you this far and you begin to wonder if your complicated friendship with Draco holds more meaning than you originally anticipated.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some friendly teasing, mentions of Umbridge’s punishments, description of harm to a student, comfort, fluff.

Word count: Approx 4000 (oopsies)

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, here’s the first full part of the series! Please check out the Prologue if you’re new to the series, it gives some general setting up for the story and explains how this soulmate AU works. Enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next part

(Gif is my own)

Sitting in the library, Neville was not far from the desk you were sat at as he scoured the shelves for a copy of a book about rare magical properties in plants while you were trying to work on your final Potions essay for the term. “This feels impossible.” You yawned, slouching over your four parchment rolls of completed essay. All you really had to do now was make a conclusion, but your brain was wandering after a few hours of working on your homework and it just wasn’t happening. “That’s incredible.” Neville whispered to himself and you couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, looking over your shoulder to see that he was fully engrossed in the book he had pulled off the shelf.

Putting your quill down, you looked down at your hand, eyes trailing over the little bandage wrap you wore over the mark left from the detention you had served the previous evening with Umbridge. It was still sore and it felt very tender, but you tried your best to keep it hidden under the bandage and the sleeve of your school jumper. Slowly, your mind wandered towards what Draco might be up to. You hadn’t spoken to him in months since you had started in your fifth year and you’d had less of desire to do so now that he was in the Inquisitorial Squad. And your thoughts paced back to your fourth year when you had started to share a bit of a friendship with him.

***

“You’re fraternizing with the enemy, you are.” Ron scoffed. “I am not.” You frowned at him. “Oi, shove off would you? I know you don’t like the little git, but he seems to like our girl, isn’t that right George?” Fred asked, looking over your head to his twin who was standing on the other side of you. “That’s right Fred, maybe he’s got a crush on you.” He chuckled, nudging you in the side. “Ah, young love.” Fred sighed, garnering a multitude of reactions between Ron sounding utterly disgusted to Ginny’s amused laughter. “Draco is just being friendly.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh Draco is it now? Not Malfoy anymore eh?” Fred teased.

“He’s such a git, Malfoy’s not worth your time anyway, he’s probably just using you or something.” Ron argued and for once, Hermione gave Ron an agreeing nod. “Besides, since when is Malfoy nice to anyone?” Hermione asked, Fred and George giving each other a look, they were a little more accepting than the others, but with the question raised even the twins wondered if there wasn’t another motivation there.

Sighing, you leaned back against the wall of the quad and glanced over at Neville, who had just been quietly listening to the conversation without saying a word, but the look on his face told you that he felt the same as the rest of your friends. The problem was, while you really, truly valued their opinion and you understood that they were trying to look out for you, albeit with a little tough love on Ron’s end, you knew there was something there between you and Draco but you just couldn’t seem to find the words to describe it.

Was it friendship? Was it some kind of connection deeper than that? Whatever it was, Draco seemed to become a different person around you. He was more genuine, more open, more himself and oddly, you were starting to feel like he really valued your attention and your opinion.

“You shouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction.” Ron went on, Harry now wandering over to join the group and you heaved out a sigh because you knew as soon as he joined in, the two of them would be going on about how much of ‘bloody git’ Draco was. “Give who the satisfaction?” Harry asked. “Malfoy.” Ron replied in a disgruntled tone. “Fine,” You gritted out. “Then I won’t give either of you the satisfaction, Ronald.” You suddenly burst out, everyone looking at you as if you had grown a second head from your sudden outburst. “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He asked, a little bewildered.

But as the days passed, your friends started to realise what you had meant by that statement. Your little chats with Draco seemed to have halted entirely, and you didn’t speak a word about your budding friendship with the Slytherin. It was as if you had completely forgotten it had ever happened and your friends were starting to wonder if you were sneaking off to talk to him without any prying eyes, but of course there was no way they could prove it.

You valued their concern, you appreciated it in fact, but stupid or not you couldn’t deny that you felt a pull towards Draco. So you removed all indication that there was any interaction with Draco at all and it became quickly apparent to you, that maybe it was safer to just have a friendship with Draco in secret, especially as you weren’t too fond of the attention that being around the Slytherin Prince brought you.

You couldn’t deny, the secret meetings with Draco felt a little wrong, purely because you knew you’d get an absolute earful from Ron if he ever found out. But you still loved spending time with Draco, because out of everyone you had ever spent time with, Draco seemed to really value your company, be it quiet or more talkative. He seemed to understand when there were days that you just didn’t want to say a lot or you were more shy than usual and he understood that it was okay to enjoy silent company, but he also enjoyed it when you had energetic days and you wanted to chat about whatever came to mind.

***

“Are you listening?” Neville asked, leaning over your chair. “Hm?” You suddenly looked up at him, a little bit startled from being pulled away from your thoughts. “If we don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Neville warned and you pulled a face of worry before you hurried to pack away your things.

“Thank Merlin.” Neville mumbled as you both practically ran up the stairs to your classroom, seeing that there was a line of students waiting outside of the room, telling you that either you were just on time or Umbridge was late, though you thought the latter to be unlikely when she liked to go on about punctuality so often.

As you joined the line, Draco Malfoy made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached you and pushed his way into the queue, though he was careful not to push you. And while Neville was busy catching up with Susan Bones who was standing on the other side of him, Draco leaned in and whispered to you.

“Meet me after class?” He asked. “Promise no funny business, just you and me.” He murmured and you tentatively glanced up at him. “This isn’t about you know what, is it?” You asked quietly. Draco knew what you were referring to. He knew you would be worried that he might try and pry some information out of you about the DA. Checking from side to side with a quick look, he held up his hand in front of you and pointed his ring finger at you. “I promise, it’s just like our old chats.” He whispered, glancing down to see you smiling, realising he was attempting a pinky promise. “Alright, but you’re using the wrong finger.” You had to refrain from giggling and instead, you shyly hid your smile as best as you could. Hesitantly you raised your hand, almost too shy to even touch him, but you pulled his little finger free and linked it with your own. “Sorry, I always forget which finger it is, muggle promises are strange.” Draco mumbled.

It wasn’t long before Umbridge finally poked her head out of the classroom and invited everyone in.

Draco sighed as he slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed in the drier than normal Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Umbridge was particularly boring to listen to as she droned on about a test you’d all be taking soon.

Instead, his focus was trained on the notebook that peeked out of the top of his bag that sat under his desk. He wished he could pick the book up and leaf through the pages, idly reading your handwriting, take in your thoughts and feelings and remind himself of days before now. Sometimes Draco wished that he could outright approach you and tell you that it was him, that he was your soulmate, but really that would be quite a bad move.

Draco wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to actually tell you, perhaps there was something that would prevent him from doing so or some sort of consequence and he was especially wary of this since his fourth year at Hogwarts when Pansy Parkinson had involved herself.

***

“What is that tatty old thing anyway? And why do you always brandish it about like a... a trophy or something?” She had asked with a judgemental edge to her tone, stealing it right out of Draco’s lap. The boy had nearly thrown himself across the common room at her as she hurried off with it. “I bet it’s a diary.” She giggled to herself. “Yeah, or he keeps secrets in there.” Crabbe added as he joined her. “That’s what a diary is, you dolt.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Draco stormed towards the pair of them, his heart racing with fear as he watched Pansy teasingly open the cover of the book. However, much to Pansy’s surprise and even more so to Draco’s, there wasn’t a single word, not a single drop of ink, no markings, nothing. The book was completely empty. “You really carry around an empty book?” Pansy questioned, sceptical with her upper lip curled in disappointment. “What did you expect, my heartfelt feelings?” Draco scoffed, his tone cold and sarcastic as he snatched the book back from her, trying not to appear too hurt that his book had been handled roughly. “I’m to keep it safe. Father sent it to me.” Draco lied through his teeth, but thankfully, his lies were hard to detect, even for someone who knew Draco’s tactics to uphold his image and Pansy just pulled an expression that told him that she thought it was weird.

***

But now, as he sat in class, Draco could still see the small dent in the leather cover that Pansy had caused when she’d roughly stolen it from his grasp. He was still angry about it even a year later, perhaps it was irrational to be so annoyed about damage to a book, but this was special and he remembered how very upset he had felt that someone other than him had held the book. It was precious, vulnerable and he treasured it.

But it wasn’t just the book that he treasured. No, what he considered to be more important, more precious and something truly wonderful in every aspect was you. Which was why he had started to slowly distance himself from you. But as Draco looked up to see you sitting a few rows ahead of him in the middle of the classroom, the thing that reminded him of why he wanted to see you peeked out from under your jumper sleeve. Your hand was bandaged and Draco was quite angry with himself, because the night before when you had unknowingly written to him in your book and told him that a teacher had hurt you during detention, Draco had immediately known what it meant and he was livid.

“Attention, mister Malfoy.” Umbridge practically shrieked across the classroom, slamming her hand down onto the front desk, disturbing the Friday afternoon gloom and making everyone in the room jump at her sudden raised voice before she gave him a forced smile. Draco lazily sat up in his seat, eyes flitting to you every time Umbridge turned away to write or point at something on the blackboard as his mind wandered throughout the rest of the lesson.

When the class finally came to an end and Professor Umbridge excused you all to enjoy the rest of your Friday evening, Draco left the classroom and leaned against the wall outside until the very last person left the room.

Draco gave you a subtle smile before he very quickly peeked around the doorframe to see that Umbridge was climbing the stairs to her office before he turned to look at you and give you a proper smile. “I’m so sorry it’s been months, it’s bloody difficult with her around, it’s like she’s everywhere.” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand, everyone is on high alert at the moment.” You replied in a quiet tone, almost too afraid to speak up as Draco began to walk you down the stairs, having avoided the eyes of all of your classmates and hopefully any spying caretakers too.

You were anxious to be spending time with Draco after all of this time. Especially as now he was part of the Inquisitorial Squad and part of you was afraid that your friends had been right last year. What if he did try to use you? But Draco had not yet betrayed your trust and you firmly believed in giving him the benefit of the doubt, you just hoped you weren’t doing it at your own expense.

“Come, we can talk in here.” Draco stepped into a hidden little alcove that was behind a statue at the side of the staircase. It was unlikely anyone would stop long enough to be able to hear you both talking and no one could see you hidden around the corner either.

“Was she hard on you yesterday?” Draco whispered his eyes softening as he watched you give him a little nod. “Yeah, a little.” You replied. “How did you know?” You queried, shyly looking up at him. “Pansy told me she caught you and Neville yesterday.” He explained and you just gave him a little nod. It wasn’t an outright lie, Pansy had told him she’d caught some students, but she never said who, it was only until you confided in your soulmate that it had happened that he knew you must have been in the group that Parkinson had caught. He watched as you slowly lifted your hand and pulled up your jumper sleeve to show him the bandage.

“Can I see?” Draco asked softly, gently taking your hand into both of his, holding you so softly like he was afraid he could hurt you with just his tender touch. You nodded, Draco leaning down to catch the way your eyes seemed to be filled with shame and you glanced at him, only for a second with a watery gaze.

Slowly and as carefully as he could, Draco unwrapped your bandage, reading the words that had been carved into your hand. “Oh love, I’m sorry, I should have been there to stop it from happening.” Draco sounded like he was scolding himself as he apologised, the emotions reaching his eyes as they swam deep in worry.

“It’s alright, I knew I’d end up in detention with her eventually.” You sighed, watching as Draco gently held your hand in his. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make his stomach turn horribly. It sickened him to no end and part of the reason he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad in the first place was with the hopes that he might be able to protect you better from that position. Not that he would let on to that, though.

“Does it hurt still?” He asked. “It still stings a bit and it’s sore.” You told him, your eyes saddened as you looked down at the writing you had tried so hard to conceal all day, not just because you were ashamed of what Umbridge had done, but because you simply could not bear to look at it. Would it always be there? You wondered if it would serve as a constant reminder and you hoped that with time that it would fade, but you couldn’t help the worry that sat deep in your stomach that the mark would remain long after healing and you hoped at the very least, that it would not make your stomach turn every time you looked at it.

“I’m so sorry.” Draco sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes looking up to meet yours as you let a shy, watery smile take over. You hoped not to cry, but Umbridge and her punishment was still very fresh in your mind and you felt a horrible chill roll through you whenever you thought of it. Merlin only knew how you had managed to make it through your lesson with her without it affecting you terribly.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here, but I’m here now.” Draco whispered it so quietly as he pulled you against his side. He hated that he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again. Draco hated that he couldn’t stop Umbridge from hurting you and part of him hated himself for how weak he was for you. Did you find it strange that he was so apologetic? That he was almost loving towards you? But the worry seemed to slip from his mind when he felt you lean against him. It was moments like this that made Draco question himself. He questioned if he should continue to create distance between you, or if keeping you close was easier to keep you safe. And he questioned things like if he should find a way to help you realise that he was your soulmate like he had worked out two years ago. But he was afraid. Draco was starting to feel like that was beginning to be all too common for him to feel these days as things became more intense. The pressure from his father to do increasingly worse things that simply did not align with Draco’s morals was enough to twist his mind and now with working under Umbridge, he hoped it did not skew his true alignment and morality. It was this that he was fighting so hard to keep, because it was the one thing he could control when everyone else was insistent on pushing him into the directions they wanted him to go in.

What you didn’t know though, was that your friendship, his connection with you was more than just that to Draco. When he was around you, he didn’t feel like he had to cling on to who he was and put a mask on. He could just be himself and it relieved some of the tension and the fear.

But the question begged itself again. Am I too close to her?

“You know, Draco.” You broke the silence, the Slytherin humming in response, prompting you to continue. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for years.” You told him. And while it was somewhat true, you had known him since you both had started Hogwarts, you never really knew him until recently. Without even knowing what lay deeper in your connection to Draco, you could feel something there, you felt drawn to him.

That’s because you have, he thought. “I know what you mean. I’ve felt the same too.” Draco replied with a soft smile, only he really did know what you meant, more than you did and he wished he could tell you.

“We should go.” Draco spoke, almost in a regretful tone as he carefully and gently bandaged your hand back up. He hated that he had so little time with you, but he was thankful at least, that you were not against spending time with him. Stepping forwards, Draco checked the stairwell. “There’s no one around.” He reassured you. “See you soon.” Draco smiled sweetly at you. “I hope so.” You nodded, mirroring his smile before you stepped out of the alcove and made your way down the stairs quickly, Draco waiting several minutes before leaving, just in case.

The end of term was on it’s final stretch with one last exam to sit the following Monday for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But as the weekend came, you decided to spend at least some of it with the person you’d not been able to see nearly all year.

“Can I ask you something?” You broke the silence, Draco glancing over at you from his spot on the grass. You were both sat down by the lake, hidden by a bit of overgrown foliage and rocks. It was a part near the shore of the lake that not many people went to and it was perfect for spending a private moment with someone. “What is it?” He asked as he reached up to push his hair to the side.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous.” You sighed, fiddling with the book that sat closed in your lap. “Nothing you say is ever ridiculous.” Draco said, looking over at you with a sweet smile and you felt yourself warm at his words. “Well in that case,” You paused, looking out over the horizon of the lake. “Do you believe in soulmates?” You posed the question as if you were terrified he’d tell you it was utter rubbish, but when you heard him give you a little hum as he thought about it, Draco leaned over a little, resting his hand on your arm to get your attention.

Meeting his gaze, his blue eyes softened when he saw how nervous you looked and he wondered if someone had told you that it was all an old wives tale.

You seemed to become more shy under his touch and Draco smiled to himself, feeling that it was sweet that you seemed to get so flustered whenever he touched you, even though it had very rarely happened.

“I do, I believe in soulmates.” He reassured you. Draco wanted, with every fibre of his being to show you his book, to tell you everything. But he didn’t. “Did someone tell you it was...” He trailed off. “Stupid? Yeah.” You huffed out. “Do you think there’s someone out there for us?” You asked, relaxing a little as Draco leaned down to gently grip your hand.

“I know there is.” Draco smiled softly.

Sometimes I wonder if I already know you, you wrote. Perhaps we do know each other, but we won’t know until we reach the end of this book, he wrote only moments later. The trundle of the train rolling over the tracks began to lull you into a sleepy state as you sat in a mostly empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express. It was the end of term and while too much had really happened for you to fully compartmentalize and process it all yet, you took solace in knowing that you could figuratively lean on your soulmate for comfort.

You told him everything you felt, almost like a journal and in turn he did the same. He detailed his thoughts, his feelings and he came to you when his day had been too much, but neither of you were too specific. You wished you knew who he was so that you could give him physical comfort, so you could both lean on each other and you wished for this even more so now that you started to wonder if you already knew him.

I promise I’ll write to you as often as I can. You scribbled it down into the book. But there came no answer. And days after you had arrived in London and returned home for the holidays, there was still no response.

If only Draco could tell you what had happened. If only he could write to you and explain it all from beginning to end. But he had no idea if he could, because his only way of communicating with you was no longer in his possession.

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[bbugyu]

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

~

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[sakurasangcl]

pretty please

pairing: jackson x f!reader

rating: pg (they kiss)

genre: fluff, little bit of angst, werewolf au, slow burn

word count: 2,588 I'm sorry I got a little carried away ok?

warnings: mentions of midterms and finals, studying (lol)

summary: your new boyfriend, jackson, turns out to be a werewolf.

author's note: full plot & additional warnings will be linked here (link coming soon), lmk if you'd like to be tagged maybe?

all rights reserved!!

You often found yourself in the library during the day, studying and doing homework or taking a break and watching anime. You had been sitting there for an hour or so, and it was starting to get busy. It always did around midterms and finals; you were just glad you found your own small table to sit at.

You were working on a paper when someone came up, smiling a bit awkwardly. “Hey, would you mind if I sit here? I’ll be quiet, I promise,” He says, hesitating to sit down. He had an accent that you couldn’t quite place, as it only happened with some words.

When you finish the sentence you were typing and look up, you do your best to hide your surprise at how handsome he was. He was absolutely stunning, making you question your own appearance. “Oh, um, sure,” you say, your cheeks flushing with heat as you make room for him.

“I’m Jackson, by the way,” He says as he pulls out the chair and sits, getting himself comfortable across from you.

“I’m Y/N,” you respond, still blushing.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, offering a charming smile as he pulls out his laptop.

The next week at the same time, he showed up again and asked, “Y/N, is it alright if I join you?”

You nod, a shy smile finding its way onto your face. “What are you studying?” you eventually ask him, tilting your head slightly.

“Business,” Jackson says, glancing up at you with a smile. “Actually, it’s my masters and I’m focusing on international business. What about you?”

When you tell him, he listens intently and asks polite questions- the right ones, too. Not the usual ones you always get.

The next week you’re running late and stop at the vending machine to grab your favorite candy. Going to your usual table, you do a double take when someone is already there. You pause awkwardly, only to realize it was Jackson waiting there with a second cup of coffee.

“Oh, hey Jackson,” you say, blushing as you join him.

He smiles at you, pushing one of the cups towards you. “I got you a coffee, just the way you like it.”

You suspiciously tilt your head, taking a sip, only to be surprised that it was the way you liked your coffee. “How did you know?” you laugh, getting out your laptop.

“I know some of the workers,” he sheepishly admits. You laugh and open the candy, offering him some.

“I shouldn’t, I’m on a diet,” he says with a pout.

“Oh, come on,” you scoff, raising an eyebrow.

He playfully rolls his eyes before grabbing a piece.

Soon, every Tuesday you would meet up with Jackson in the library. Before midterms, it became every Tuesday and Thursday until finals, when it was almost every day. It was on one of these Thursdays that he asked you, “Are you free tomorrow?”

You tilt your head, wondering what he was getting to. He seemed to always have plans on Fridays during your normal study time, and you tried not to study too late since the library closed early. “Uh, no, I don’t think so? Why do you ask?” you respond.

“Well, I was thinking that I could take you for a date! If you wanted to, that is…”

You could tell he was a little nervous, and you realized you were staring at him blankly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, nodding. “Yes, sorry, I was just… yes, I would like that,” you admit, shaking your head some.

“Great! I can pick you up after your class tomorrow? Just make sure you dress warm!” he says with a grin.

“You already have a plan? What is it? Tell me~?” you ask, pouting a little bit.

“Nope, it’s a secret!” he laughs, smiling brightly. “You have to wait until tomorrow to know!”

The next day, you woke up early to get ready. You wore warm clothes like he said, and did your makeup cutely but not excessively, especially since it seemed like you would be outside. In class, you were extra fidgety and kept checking the clock. It felt like time slowed, but you knew it was from your anticipation.

Right on cue as class ended, your phone vibrated. Checking it, you noticed a text from Jackson saying he was outside the building.

You all but run out of the classroom down to the parking lot, finding him standing outside grinning.

“Will you tell me what we are doing now?” you ask, giving him your puppy dog eyes.

“Maybe,” he teases, leading you to his car. He opens the door for you and even shuts it, getting in on the other side. “Does hiking sound okay? Then takeout and a movie at my place?” Jackson asks. You see a hopeful glint and the worry in his eyes, and your smile grows.

“That sounds wonderful!” you tell him.

“Great!” he says, starting to drive. “You’ll love it! I go here quite often, and it’s very pretty. I’ve seen some deer and some really neat birds before there.”

“Oh, really? Do you know what kinds of birds?” you ask, curious.

“Well, I’m not sure since they’re not the same as back home, but definitely some owls! I went out later than I should have been that time. And I don’t know if it was a falcon, eagle, or hawk. But those too.”

“I think we have all three here,” you laugh.

“Well, that really doesn’t help identify it any, now does it,” he laughs with you.

“Not in the slightest,” you giggle.

“Well I guess if we see them, maybe you’ll know,” Jackson says, turning onto a gravel road.

“What am I, a bird expert now?” you laugh more.

“No, you’re just a native here,” he responds with a little pout.

“Still not a bird expert,” you point out.

“I know, but you will know better than me,” he reasons.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you say, shaking your head as he parks in a small parking lot.

“We are here!” Jackson says, turning off the car. He leads you over to the map by the trail entrance, glancing at it once before heading down.

“We’ll follow the blue markers this time,” he says, pointing them out on the tree.

“What do they mean? You didn’t give me time to read the map,” you say with a huff.

“They mean we’re going the correct way,” he tells you smartly.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“I know. And there’s nothing you can do about it but follow me and find out,” he teases you, taking your hand and leading you.

You’re both careful not to trip over any of the roots or loose rocks, and you start getting glances of white.

“Is that a river?” you ask, glancing at what looked like ice.

“Uh, maybe,” Jackson responded in an unbelievable manner. Of course he knew, he just wasn’t going to tell you.

Eventually, you made it to more of a clearing. Jackson didn’t even have to point to what it was he wanted to show you. You stood in awe instead.

Winter was definitely there, and you knew that since the little fountains on campus were frozen over. But this, this was a sight to behold. The entire river had frozen over, and what must usually be a gorgeous waterfall had frozen over. The water had frozen against the rocks, sharp spears of it dangerously hanging from the main body of water. You swore if the sun was just right, you could see some of the water on the very inside running down inside the thick, frozen ice.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jackson asks you, his voice hushed. All you could do was nod.

The next Tuesday, you got to the library first. “Want to go on a second date?” you bluntly ask him when he joins you.

He laughs before smiling, nodding. “Of course, I’d love to,” Jackson assures you.

You’re not sure if you can ever end up choosing a favorite date by the time finals end. Your last “date” was taking him to the airport. He was going home for the break, and you wanted to take him.

“I guess this is as far as we can go, huh?” you ask sadly, looking at the security checkpoint.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jackson says, fidgeting with his ticket some as if he were nervous.

“Well, I’m sure everything will go well…” you say, almost more nervous than he was. “I mean, you’ve flown lots of times before, so this shouldn’t be any different…” you start to ramble in an attempt to console him.

He chuckles a little, gently putting his hand on your shoulder before tilting up your chin.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Jackson softly asks, his dark eyes meeting yours.

Your heart leaped in your chest. You thought of him as your boyfriend, but you weren’t sure if you were official or not, so it made you a little nervous. But at his question, your lips smiled on their own, and you nod as much as you can for his hand holding onto your chin. “Yes!” you whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, causing you to blush and nod. Once given consent, he kisses you sweetly.

“I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?” Jackson says as he pulls away and picks up his things.

“Alright… be safe,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks burn.

“I will,” he assures you, kissing your cheek before leaving.

A few days later, when he was over jet lag, you face timed him. You were eating breakfast at the time, and he was eating dinner.

“How are you?” You ask, happy to see him again and hear his voice.

“I’m doing much better now that I get to see my beautiful girlfriend~” he coos playfully, causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay. How was the plane trip? How are things going back home?” you ask, wanting more details.

“It went well, don’t worry. I am home safe, although it is a bit hectic at times,” he assures you.

“Why is it hectic? You’re on a break~ you need to relax!” you tell him with a huff.

“I know, I know, don’t worry, I am,” he again assures you.

“You better be,” you huff back, pouting slightly.

Just like that, your library dates were replaced with virtual ones. Some days you could only talk for a few minutes, some days you went on for hours. Every now and then, he even would sing you to sleep. You always slept well when he would.

When Christmas came, he ended up sending you a cd of songs he recorded to help you sleep.

When the semester started up again, you would meet in the library Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays this time. You sat at the same table, but also flirted more when you studied. You made sure to keep up your grades, since they were incredibly important to you.

After the initial start up hump of the beginning of the semester, you started to remember something strange about Jackson that you had forgotten or just hadn’t had the time to realize before. It wasn’t quite a gut feeling of danger, but a feeling of something was wrong. He would get sick nearly every month for a few days without fail. In the last week of January, Jackson was out sick for over a week.

The following Monday, Jackson comes back to the library, and you immediately perk up. “Jackson, how are you feeling? Your roommate told me you were sick,” you ask him.

“I was, but I am feeling much better now,” he assures you, smiling.

You felt the tug in your stomach, and you knew he was lying. “Jackson, you get sick more often than… well, anyone I know. What’s wrong?” you insist.

He sighs, his smile faltering. “I have an immune disorder. I don’t like talking about it much, but I often get sick,” he tells you.

You believed him until your introductory anatomy course went over autoimmune disorders. He didn’t fit any of the basic descriptions for them. You ended up choosing to do a paper on the topic, so you ended up pressuring him more when he was at your place for a movie date night.

“Jackson, I’ve been working on a paper for autoimmune disorders. I may have to narrow it down to one in particular… So, I was wondering what one you had?” you ask him, wanting to be a supportive girlfriend.

He sighs and seems irritated about it, and you couldn’t quite tell what was wrong. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you…” he admits, shocking you.

You felt like you had told him everything. You told him about your asthma, how your therapy sessions went, what you wanted to improve on, your insecurities about your body, even sexual things you had thought about eventually exploring with him.

But he couldn’t tell you this? After you told him about your mental health issues? You were shocked and speechless.

After a moment, you finally catch your thoughts. “Jackson… you know you can tell me anything, right?” you say softly, frowning and not realizing you were tearing up.

Jackson’s face softens, and he pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, I know. You’re right,” he soothes, sighing slightly. “I just… don’t want you to hate me or think I am a freak or anything,” he further admits.

“Jackson, I love you. I could never,” you whisper. It was the first time you had said that.

His heart melts at your words, and he started tearing up. You pull away, and he cups your cheeks.

He lets out a short sigh, making up his mind. “Alright baby. Well, I’ll just say it,” he tells you, now opting to hold your hands. Jackson gently squeezes them as he admits, “I’m a werewolf.”

You pause, staring at him as you replay his words in your mind. You then pull away and laugh, shaking your head. “No, seriously Jackson,” you say, feeling anxious. Why would he lie to you?

“I am being serious,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Then-then prove it,” you say, but it comes out as more of a question.

Jackson sighs softly, tilting his head some. “Alright. Count to ten and come into your room,” he says, going in.

You huff, counting out loud.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You stand up and head towards your room.

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

You turn the doorknob and say, “I’m coming in now.”

You open the door and are immediately greeted with a massive wolf. Oddly enough, he had the eyes of Jackson.

You quickly shut your door, knowing you weren’t allowed to have pets in your building.

“Um…” you begin, staring at him in confusion. You look around the room, wondering where Jackson was, only to notice his clothes on the floor. “So, you’re really-?” you begin, looking at the wolf again.

He nods and you groan, covering your face with your hands.

You hear him jump off the bed, and after hearing snapping and popping, you glance up and see Jackson pulling his pants back on. You quickly look away, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at his well defined body.

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smirking because he knew.

[jaembby]

Lesson learned

pairing: nct dream x f reader

genre: fluff, angst (kinda but not really- its basically y/n having a breakdown that’s it), somewhat a roommates au

word count: 1.8k

requested: yes! request:  scenario where they try to prank you ignoring you like they're upset, but you had a really bad day and just breaks down in front of them (nct dream)

warnings: there’s really none unless you count possible grammar mistakes and shitty writing. also I only got to proof reading the first part so the second half probably has some mistakes but let’s just ignore them for now :)

a/n: thank you again for the request @nctvroomts! if anyone wants to request anything, send it in!

also, I hit 60 followers while writing this!! (i’m at 63 now) Thank you all so much!! I can’t believe there are actually over 60 people who read my writing y’all i- <3 <3 <3

preview:

You couldn’t take it anymore and let a small salty tear slide down your cheek as you turned and ran to your room.

Sneaky smiles quickly turned to looks of instant regret as the boys realized; they’d messed up.

-----

The second you entered into your shared flat, you knew something wasn’t right.

There are four of you who live in the flat but it feels more like eight. Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun lived with you but their friend group - who you had now become a part of - called “the dreamies” were always over. Your home was like a second home to Mark, Haechan, Chenle and Jisung aka the other half of the dreamies.

Every single day, without fail, you would come home to the group of overly affectionate boys bombarding you with hugs and questions about your day and stories about theirs. Today, however, was different.

You walked into the door only to be greeted with silence. Most of the boys were sitting and playing video games on the couches of your shared living room while Jaemin and Jeno were taking fresh muffins out of the oven for everyone. Not a single head had turned your way upon your arrival. Not a single greeting of “hi” or “how was your day?”. Not one person moved from where they were stationed nor paid any attention to you whatsoever. Did you do something? Do they suddenly not like you?

“Hello? Are any of you alive?” you called out but didn’t get a response.

You weren’t in the mood for this shit today. You’d had an argument with a co-worker which ended up with nearly everyone in the workplace turning against you for absolutely no reason then received hateful messages because of false rumours spread about you. Because of this, your boss had even threatened that “you’ll be fired if this rubbish continues” and “we can’t have someone like you causing trouble among our staff and bringing the company’s reputation down”! It wasn’t even your fault! But of course, no one listened to you.

“Did I do something? Am I a ghost?” you asked the boys but, once again, received no response. You looked over to where the dreamies sat on the couches eating their muffins which just so happened to be your favourite flavour. It also just so happened that there were none made for you.

“Hello? Please don’t ignore me, guys,” you said as you set your things down on a table, trying not to let them get the better of you.

You looked forward to coming home to the dreamies because they’re your best friends! They always managed to make you feel better and today, you really needed it.

“Did you guys hear anything?” Haechan asked the rest of the group. They all responded with a chorus of no’s and nope’s and that’s when you let go.

Well done. Whatever you boys hoped to achieve, I hope you’re happy, you thought as you felt isolated and alone. The day that you thought couldn’t have gotten any worse just did and it was too much for you.

You couldn’t take it anymore and let a small salty tear slide down your cheek as you turned and ran to your room.

Sneaky smiles quickly turned to looks of instant regret as the boys realized; they’d messed up.

You didn’t spare a glance back at the group of 7 boys downstairs as you slammed the door and flopped onto your bed before letting the tears fall. All of the pent-up anger, frustration and sadness from today’s events came crashing down like a tidal wave as you struggled to control your breathing.

Downstairs, the guys had started to panic.

“Haechan, this is all your fault for suggesting to prank y/n!” Renjun shouted.

“Me? You all agreed to it!” Haechan replied.

Soon enough, almost all of the dreamies were arguing over whose fault it was, a series of “you did this” and “you said that” was all that could be heard with each boy trying to get his say.

“Shut up! All of you!” Mark yelled, bringing an abrupt halt to the arguments.

“Thank you. Now, stop blaming each other. We all agreed to prank y/n and all came up with the plan together. Obviously, we’ve upset her because we’re all stupid and selfish so now we’ve got to work out how to fix this mess.”

“This is why Mark is our unofficial leader,” Haechan stated as Mark blushed. “now does anyone have any ideas on how to fix this mess that we all made?” He continued.

“Jeno and I made extra muffins that we were going to give to y/n after,” Jaemin said in a small voice.

“I feel so bad,” Jisung said as he suddenly found the ground very interesting.

“Me too”

“Me three”

“Same”

“I think we all do”

“Yeah”

“Yep”

“Alright, here’s the plan...” Mark said as he revealed what the group of boys were to do in order to apologize and fix their mistakes.

7 out of the 8 dreamies (you being the odd one out) were sitting in a circle and thinking of ways to make you feel better.

“I can go talk to her... see how she is?” Jisung suggested.

“That’s probably a good idea, ‘sungie, seeing as she doesn’t often get mad at you. While Jisung’s up there, Jaemin and Jeno, I want you guys to get the rest of the muffins out and put them on a plate and 9 glasses and a bottle of y/n’s favourite juice. Renjun and Haechan, help me set up a pillow fort and Chenle, pick out a few movies that y/n might like. Is everyone okay with that?” Mark said, his authoritative side showing once again. When everyone nodded in response, it was time to start.

Jisung walked quietly up the stairs towards your room but stopped a few feet away when he heard your uneven breathing and quiet sniffles being muffled by pillows. He quickly made a detour to the bathroom where he got a glass of water for you and a box of tissues and set out for your room once more.

“y/n?” Jisung asked hesitantly.

“what do you want?” You questioned, angry that the dreamies were ignoring you up until now.

“It’s Jisung, can I come in?”

“Oh, come in ‘sung.”

Jisung made his way into your room and sat down at the edge of your bed before pulling you into a gentle hug. For a while, it was just the two of you in comfortable silence. No words needing to be shared as Jisung let you cry onto his shoulder as he gently stroked your hair. When your breathing had returned to a somewhat normal pace with only small hiccups here and there, Jisung passed you a tissue.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, the gentle sound muffled by his face in your hair.

“Not only me... the rest of us. Y/n, we’re really sorry,” He said as he tightened his grip on you before pulling away to help you wipe some of the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry too. I guess I overreacted. It’s not all your fault... I’ve just had a pretty rough day with work and coming home to my best friends acting like I wasn’t there was not the best end to it” you smiled slightly as you reached a hand up to play with Jisung’s hair. He always managed to calm you down. No matter what happened between you and the others, Jisung was always the one to not get involved.

“Y/n I’m so sorry, we didn’t know. It was just meant to be a prank but we took it too far.”

“It’s okay, ‘sungie. I’m fine now.” You gave him a reassuring smile as you pulled your hands away from his hair which was now slightly messier than it had been before.

“Do you wanna go downstairs? Let’s get you cleaned up a bit and head down because the others want to apologise, too.” Jisung said as he led you to your ensuite bathroom and gently took your hair out of it’s ponytail as you washed off your (now messed up) makeup. Soon enough, you had washed off the makeup, the red stains in your eyes from crying had reduced and you’d changed into comfier clothes as you headed downstairs with Jisung to meet the remaining 6 boys.

As soon as you’d got downstairs, Mark smothered you in a too-tight hug.

“Jisung probably already told you this but we’re so sorry. We really are, y/n. It was meant to be a stupid prank but we never intended to hurt your feelings. We’re really sorry.” He said as he pulled back and grabbed your hand, leading you towards the mess of pillows and blankets that the boys had turned into a fort big enough to comfortably fit all 8 of you.

You’d just sat down on one of the pillows when suddenly a tray of muffins was placed in front of you by a pouty Jaemin and Jeno.

“Sorry.” they both said as they took turns in giving you hugs.

Renjun, Haechan and Chenle followed after Jaemin and Jeno, apologizing and giving you tight comforting hugs.

After hugs and muffins being shared amongst you all, everyone had gotten into more comfortable positions in the pillow fort, ready to watch movies.

“Y/n, pick a movie,” Chenle said as he passed the remote in your direction from where he was seated next to Jisung. Haechan, who was to the left of you, grabbed it and gave it to you before resting his head gently on your shoulder and snuggling closer to you.

“Hyuck, stop moving. You nearly kicked over our cups.” Mark said as he reached down to move the half-empty cups away from the potentially dangerous area.

“Noo- the cups will be fine, Mark.” Haechan retorted tiredly and you laughed quietly at their banter.

The movie began and Jaemin, who was to your right, looped his arm with yours as he rested his head on your free shoulder.

Renjun leaned on Jeno, who leaned on Jaemin, who cuddled your right side while Mark was resting the weight of his head on Haechan’s lap and Chenle and Jisung were sat in front of the rest of you, side by side, leaning on each other and occasionally commenting on the movie to one another which would earn a playful slap from the other.

Things were peaceful (well, as peaceful as you can get with the dreamies) and all was well. You’d forgiven the boys and they’d learned not to pull dumb pranks in the future. Now here you all sat, the eight of you content and comfortable.

It was quiet apart from the movie playing in the background...too quiet.

Suddenly, the blanket that acted as the roof of the den fell down, along with two of the chairs holding them up, causing you all to laugh as Jaemin and Jisung screamed quietly, having been woken from their half-asleep state.

“Maybe someone else can be in charge of building the den next time,” Jisung mumbled grumpily as he lay on Chenle in an attempt to get comfortable once again.

“Hey!” Chenle said in an offended tone (though you all knew he was faking) and lightly hit Jisung in the arm which caused the rest of you to go into another laughing fit.

The group of overly affectionate boys had once again managed to make you smile and laugh again, despite everything that happened today.

Lesson learned: don’t prank y/n like that! 

-----

a/n: thank you for reading! I know this was very basic and boring with the shittiest plot but writer’s block doesn’t help when you’re trying to write a request nshdkj anyways not @ me trying to subtly put chenji markhyuck and norenmin in there i’m sorry if there’s mistakes I literally wrote majority of this at like 2am on multiple days so yeah. anyways i’m going to shut up now- thanks for reading and please continue sending in requests!! i’m so sorry @nctvrooms that this took so long to write I kinda forgot about it for like two weeks oops.

[cheoliehae]

121U! - jeon wonwoo // seventeen au

❖ soulmate: you are able to communicate with your soulmate via a special chat room but you are both unaware of who you are due to the username

❖ a/n: hi everyone, so if you been here since the beginning of my blog you know that i used to write bts text au and that I also have skz au writing account. well since im in my 3rd year of uni i started to write to relieve stress and it’s really fun. so enjoy this idea i had that was og for my skz blog. if you haven’t figured it out yet I took inspiration from Day6 song 121U (aka a bop) as well as A Cinderella Story (you know the one with Hillary Duff, a CLASSIC). It is unsure how much i will write on this blog since again i only write when i am relieving stress so until next time enjoy :)

❖ word count: 1.6k (legit one word away from 1.7k)

❖ paring: jeon wonwoo  x gn reader

❖: high school au, soulmate au

Ah, high school, a time where smarts and social status do not mix well together. You are either lucky enough to be a part of the popular crowd, being invited to all of the hottest parties, and dating the hottest people. Or get a normal student focusing on their studies and not giving a crap about any social status that one may obtain. Walking down the hallway with your earbuds in your ear you didn’t care about the people around you. You were just at school to study and graduate knowing that you were destined for greatness after high school.

“Excuse me,” you heard a voice coming from behind you. Pulling out your airpods you were faced with Mina and her group of followers. “Can I help you?” you questioned her as you had no idea what she wanted from you. You have never even said two words to her before this moment so you were highly confused about what was happening. “You are walking slowly and my locker is right there so can you please use your two legs and move faster please,” Mina motioned for her hands to move. Rolling your eyes you did just that and proceed to walk into class.

“Hey y/n you look, not good,” your best friend Joshua as he saw you sit down at your desk. Setting your head down a small sigh left your month “I hate Myoui Mina with a passion, I get it she is popular but does that give her a reason to freakin pick on everyone like come freakin on”. Joshua extended his arm and gently pat you on the back “there their y/n, rant to your best friend,”. Raising your head up you saw Mina walking into class with her boyfriend Wonwoo as his arm was around her. “Great this is going to be a long day,” you set your head back down and moped.

As time passed by you started to get bored in class as you finished all of your assignments. You opened a new tab on your laptop and entered into a chatroom. A smile grew on your face as you got excited seeing your friend mrbookworm was online. A bit of backstory mrbookworm is actually your soulmate but you felt really awkward calling him your soulmate since you had no idea who he was.

ouasunshine: hey i see that you are alive

mrbookworm: yeah i finished my classwork a bit early so i wanted to see if you were on or not

mrbookworm: and just like i expected here you are :)

ouasunshine: i am highly convinced that you are just on this chat room 24/7 waiting for me to come online

mrbookworm: you would be disappointed if that was false ;)

ouasunshine: dont get cheesy with me.

A chuckle left your mouth knowing how much mrbookworm made you feel. But it sucked that you did not know him in person cause you really did believe that if you did your whole world would be different. He seems like the type of person who really did not care about social status or what others think of him. 

mrbookworm: how are your classes today?

ouasunshine: the normally but I did have a lovely run-in with one of the ‘popular’ at my school

ouasunshine: let’s just say it was not really the highlight of my day

mrbookworm: :( im sorry you had a rough day I wish there to make you feel better

ouasunshine: i have to go, the bell just rang

Packing up your backpack and quickly walked out of the classroom trying your best to avoid any more interactions with that clique. Which for once was in your favor as you didn’t run into any of that crowd for the rest of the school day. Your absolute favorite time of the day was when the last bell rang and you were able to go to the library. It was quiet and wasn’t too crowded unless it was midterm or final season. The librarians were also very appreciative that you came during your free time and helped out. “Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that we are going to close up a bit early so don’t be alarmed okay,”. “I won’t Mrs. Park,” you said with a smile on your face and then returned to your book. 

As time passed you were getting lost in your book. “Excuse me,” looking up from your book you say Wonwoo standing in front of you “Um can I check out a laptop?”. “Sure but the library is closing early so you have at least 30 minutes before I have to ask for it back. ID please,” you held out your hand. He handed it to you and once you scanned everything you handed it back to him. You watched as he walked away and returned to your book. Looking over at the desk that was in front of you you saw your phone buzzing. You moved forwards to see if anyone was in your line of sight and if anyone could see you, let’s just say you were in the clear.

mrbookworm: if you were picking out a book for me, what book would you recommend?

ouasunshine: what makes you say that I am a reader?

mrbookworm: well for one thing your soulmate is a bookworm aka i am a bookworm 

mrbookworm: i kinda hope that my soulmate is one too

ouasunshine: Are We There Yet? by David Levithan. It is about two brothers who go to Italy and they end up falling for the same girl but neither of them knows. It is pretty good. I give it a solid ⅘ but it definitely breaks the love standards that we are used to.

mrbookworm: wow i can’t imagine a system without soulmates

ouasunshine: i feel like the system of soulmates will still exist but people won’t know see the signs unless they are truly in love

mrbookworm: do you think there will be a possibility that we would be soulmates without this whole soulmate system.

ouasunshine: that is really hard to say

The clock hit 15:30 and you had to leave. So you logged out and looked around for Wonwoo to get everything back. “Um hey so,” you said walking up to where he was sitting out. “Oh is it time already?,” he said looking at his watch and then back at you. “Yeah, sorry for kicking you out I guess? I mean I know we are open later than this but you know closing hours aren’t my rules to make,” you said looking at him. “No no I understand, do you think I can check out a book or will it be easier to get it tomorrow morning?”. “Probably come tomorrow morning then you have more time to actually look for your book if you have no idea where it is located,”. “Yeah I think that will be my best bet. Thanks for the help y/n,”.

You were taken aback by him saying your name was this was one of the first time that you have ever had a conversation with him. “No problem, Wonwoo,: smiling back at him as you walked him out before locking up.

As the night was drawing to an end you were laying in bed finishing up an homework assignment. It was a simple reading so it was nothing heavy but you did wish that time would pass faster. A ding from your computer and you saw the lovely notification from your soulmate.

mrbookworm: two truths and one lie?

ouasunshine: hello to you too,

ouasunshine: what are you doing lol

mrbookworm: i’m bored and I don't feel like bothering my friends

ouasunshine: so you wanted to bother me?

mrbookworm: you’re my soulmate ;)

mrbookworm: you are kinda stuck with me forever 

ouasunshine: i mean i guess i can spare a minute or two

ouasunshine: ummm

ouasunshine: my favorite cake is red velvet, i played soccer as a kid and i’m 75% certain i was a butterfly in my kindergarten school play.

mrbookworm: oh that is an easy one

mrbookworm: it's the butterfly one

ouasunshine: i wish you can hear me laugh

ouasunshine: it is actually the cake one

mrbookworm: you’re lying

ouasunshine: no i believe that i have a picture somewhere.

ouasunshine: i was either a butterfly or a flower but i have a picture somewhere

mrbookworm: well when i meet you in person you will have to show me

mrbookworm: but what is the lie?

ouasunshine: i really don't like red velvet cake

For the rest of the night, you were talking to your soulmate. And just like you wished for at the beginning of the night the hours did fly by when you were talking to him.

Arriving at school early you walked straight to the library. You unlocked the door and headed to the main deck and pulled out the book that you were reading last night. And to your surprise the first person who entered was Wonwoo.

“Good Morning,” he said, walking up to the desk with a smile on his face. The soft curls from his hair lightly hit the top of his glasses. And the grey sweatshirt that he wasn’t helping his case and we really did look nice. “Hey morning, are you here to look for that book from yesterday?”. “Yeah I am looking for Are We There Yet? by David Levithan,”. Your head lifted from the computer and stopped typing mid-sentence. “No there is no way,” you thought to yourself. “Is there something wrong? Is it checked out?”. “No it’s not that, it’s just I recommended that book to someone yesterday, it is one of my favorites,” you said looking away. “Oh same, well not me recommended but it was recommended to me,” Wonwoo said looking down at the ground.

“This is a very out of the blue question but are you mrbookworm? Again totally random questions and if you aren’t that this is highly embarrassing,”. Wonwoo just looked at you and smiled. “Hi ouasunshine, I’m expecting to see that picture of you as a butterfly one day, maybe over coffee?”. “I would really like that,”.