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aetheternity · 3 years

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Sight, smell, touch, taste, sound and which one I believe would draw the Aot boys to you. Kinda Modern Au 🤷‍♀️ idk you be the judge.

(If you guys want girls too I'd be happy to do them just let me know) (MILD NSFW WARNING kiddos be vanquished.)

Eren

~Sight

•Baby boy is so in love with every bit of your face, eyes, hair, curves, to the edges of your fingertips he's just got to look at you.

•Don't take this as shallow. No he definitely finds so many more reasons to cherish you.

•But that body tho~~ 😜

•He loves to watch your hips sway as you dance to music.

•Loves watching your hair flow on windy days.

•Craves the gorgeous red coloring from late night (horny) sessions.

•Enjoys slowly spinning you around when you're wearing something skin tight.

•Don't even get me started on when your skin is wet for any reason.

•Fuck~ but growled gently into your nape or collarbone.

Armin

~Touch and sound

•Damn papa he's a mixed breed. (No I didn't just say that shut up) .

•He wants to hear any noises that come out of your mouth and touch every delicate inch of your skin.

•Starts off with listening to you talk about your day. (Like everything! Don't skimp on the details.) Your little hums as you listen to music. Whispers of good night, I love you etc etc. Accompanied pleasantly with your warm lips, his fingers sliding over your back late at night or the feeling of your hair under his finger tips.

•It's all so beautiful. So absolutely perfect for him.

•And a little further along in your relationship when he's squeezing your thighs or cupping your ass. Listening to your breath hitch as he hits all the right spots.

•The breathless murmurs of his name on your lips has his heart soaring.

•He'll always reach up to your face after sex to press his thumbs into your cheek and devour every noise cresting off your lips.

•He'll always reach out for you after a long day. He just needs to squeeze your waist. Needs to hear your little giggles if he tickles you when he touches certain spots.

•In short you're a lucky bitch if he's yours so better keep him satisfied 😩😤

Jean (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!)

~Touch

•He's touch starved so let the first thing you ever do with him relationship wise be giving him the tightest fucking hug!

•He wants you in his lap, pressed against his chest, within kissing distance and you better be ready to constantly interlock your fingers.

•Small price to pay for one of the best boyfriends in Aot.

•He's gonna need your skin pressed gently against his body period.

•Definitely plans as many instances as he can to get you in the bath tub with him. Bubbles soaking the gorgeous terrain of what is his as he rubs, wipes and scrubs every inch of your body with a gentle hand.

•You'll fall asleep. (He wants you to fall asleep). So he can carry you to bed bridal style.

•Absolutely loves sneaking a hand into your pants when you whisper you need him late at night and adores the lengthy marks you leave over the expanse of his back.

•But more than anything he just wants to hold you. Rub his hairy chin against your neck and face. (LET HIM DAMMIT )

Levi

~Smell

•Believe it or not I see Levi as the type to be extremely attracted to certain smells.

•And god he loves your's

•He wants to stick his face in your neck and just take a long sniff and once he has the opportunity lord knows that's one of the first things he does whenever he has the chance.

•Loves how you smell when you're covered in cleaning products from a lengthy spring cleaning, after you've washed your hair, in his shirt, after you've showered etc etc.

•Please he needs you to be as close as possible so that your scent can relax him!

•Sometimes wears your t-shirts or falls asleep holding any article of clothing that smells the most like you.

•And fuck yes your smell can also get him sufficiently hard for really long fuck sessions. (Most likely if you smell like his cologne.) The scent of your arousal is probably his second favorite smell.

•Always sleeps a full eight hours or more if he's got his nose tucked into your nape, slightly in your hair. (Hopefully you washed it..)

•That's it Levi enjoys your smell thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. 😃👍

Connie

~Touch and Taste

•Not lowkey about his freaky side at all.

•He'll come straight out after a confession on either side and be like I've been wanting to touch you for I don't know how long 😳.

•He craves his hand molded to any part of your body he can reach. Smacking that ass like it cursed at his mother. (Mfer is handsy as hell.) Wants no needs the taste of your sweat, thighs, neck, lips etc etc.

•Though he enjoys sweet touches too. Loves when you slip a hand under his shirt to scratch his back.

•Don't be surprised if that sweet touch or any sweet touch escalates into something else. (You so horny for what like: 😤)

•He's always got a hand up your shirt when you two are alone. Actually feels calmer after a long day if he's kissing your neck and fondling your nipples.

•Even if you guys are out he's touching you in other ways.

•Got his arm affectionately wrapped around your waist at all times, comes close to give you little kisses on your ear and lips.

•Just make sure you give him as many hugs as possible or he might riot. 😏

Erwin

~Smell and Touch

•Like Levi I'd like to believe he enjoys certain smells over others

•But like Jean I believe he's touch starved and has an unquenchable desire to touch you.

•Granted he won't be as horny when he actually has your touch no I feel your smell will get him going too. Specifically when you're wearing something he gave you or when you're only wearing one of his shirts.

•He loves touching your thighs, grazes his fingers over them with slow soft desire. Layers kisses near your armpits and shoulder blade where your scent is the strongest.

•If that leads to sex 🤷‍♀️ depends on his mood.

•Makes sure that if he's working late hours you're in his lap to provide your heartbeat and the soft scent of your breath as you lay open mouthed on his shoulder.

•Please be wearing no pants he'd love that so he can tap your butt to tell you he's done and then squeeze it when he's lifting you to bed.

•(Personal belief that he can undo buttons with his teeth and tongue.)

•Uses that to bury his face in your stomach and chest. (Overall wear Erwin's shirts challenge 21k)

Colt (My favorite guy from Marley besides Falco 😜)

~SIGHT MFER SIGHT

•He's so entranced by you the second he sees you 🥺

•Knows that he wants you all to himself but has a hard time saying it but when he does know that he's always watching.

•He's such a cutie tho!! Feels embarrassed if you catch him sneaking a peak if you're stretching and your shirt rides up or if you're only wearing a towel and you're parading around his room.

•Please tell him it's ok to look 🥺

•Wear his shirt. WEAR HIS SHIRT. Don't make me repeat it a third time. If you do he'll have his eyes on you all day.

•When he's comfortable with you he'll stare at your long legs peaking out his untucked shirt and.. now he's hard.

•He loves watching you do cute precious shit like cook or dance. Loves the way you jump around when you're just humming a tune.

•Let's you wear his boxers (Please be in them when he comes home. He'll give you that good cock.)

•Let's be honest here his eyes are always looming over your figure and he wants to touch but fuck he loves to look. 😜🥺

Porco

~Sight and taste (I have a strong belief that almost all the Marley guys love to stare.)

•Guys.. show off that ass for Porco.

•Give him something to watch. You go walking away from him with your ass perfectly cupped in something tight fitting there's gonna be another tight fit waiting for you at home.)

•He fucking loves the taste of your sweat. Quite possibly your blood too when he bites down a certain way. (Porco screams blood kink to me 🤷‍♀️)

•Shit quite literally gets him going.

•He's got your waist and hand in the streets and your thighs between his teeth in the sheets.

•He's a biter (Ladies, Gents and the rest.)

•Loves gripping your ankles and yanking you towards him. Sometimes during sex sometimes just because you keep inching away from him on the couch.

•I also see Porco as the kind of guy to stick his tongue in your ear. Like if he does he's staying there for about twenty minutes.

•Porco has the god tongue and rough fingers (Do with that what you will.)

Renear (Reiner) 🤭

~Obviously Sight but also touch.

•If please touch me were a person.

•I see him as the type where if he were friends with someone he had a crush on and was playful with them he'd do things like pull them into his chest on occasion and put his hands on the small of their back.

•Unlike Porco and Connie his touch is probably more aimed at loving than sexual.

•He's always marveling your gorgeous eyes, he loves running a finger over your chin before he kisses you, adores pressing his thumb to your bottom lip and when you open for him to press his thumb against the pad of your tongue-

•Holy shit.

•Watches you do literally everything as if he's so awed but he's in love.

•Holds you around the waist whenever you two dance. So close you can feel his heart skip for you.

•Once again (Wear his shirts. Wear his shirt. wear his shirt!)

•Also craves pecks on the lips and tight holds around his body so give him those.

Berthot (Berthold whatever the fuck his name is)

~Sight

•He's definitely one of those personality driven mfers.

•But he's also seen you and what he's seen is amazing.

•Why tf is he always blushing just to look away cause he adores you from your head to your toes.

•But unlike some of the other guys I see him as the kind of guy obsessed with your pretty face over your curves and what not.

•He loves the way your eyes twinkle when you see a shooting star or the way you smile at him when you see him.

•He's like the easiest guy to please out of all the others here.

•He bores every pretty expression you make into his memory.

•Specially when you guys are 😤🥰😩

•Good luck to Armin when he sees you as 99.9% of his memory like damn.. 😤

Farlen (As a bonus!)

~Sound

•Your voice has been a lingering sound in the depths of his memory.

•From the second he first heard you he had to hear more.

•If you sing he wants to hear more. If you cry he wants to slit the throat of whoever did it and if you laugh. God please laugh..

•He's gonna do everything in his power to hear literally everything you have to say even if it's stupid to you. (There is no never mind in this relationship 😤).

•And dear god if you moan in his ear it'll send him to a galaxy far far away. You might even make him cum on the spot.

•If you whistle he's gonna ask you to whistle for him and will probably fall asleep to the sound.

•He wants the details of your day (like Armin) but he'll probably stop literally everything he's doing just to listen to you vent.)

•Please whisper in his ear he'll get so so very hard.

•And politely mumble how much you love everything about him the universe isn't big enough for how big his heart gets.

(This was posted on April 7th right before 12am so again. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEAN!!) 🥺

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selfindulgentpoorlywritten · 3 years

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Surprise

Okay I’m soooo late, I’m sorry! This is my submission for @antoineroussel ‘s Summer Fic Exchange! I managed to dislocate my shoulder (again) and then get myself and half my house sick in the last week, so I’m so grateful for Demi and Emma’s patience <3 @leafs-forever , I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T (language)

Pairing: Kirby Dach/Reader

Words: 1599

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Kirby get ready for the NHL Awards.

Luckily, you had started getting ready before Kirby got home. You’re used to getting ready beside him, but it takes you longer to prepare for a fancy event. Getting dolled up isn’t as easy as people make it out to be.

By the time he gets home, you’ve already showered and are in the process of doing your hair. You keep it simple, just cleaning it up a bit and putting in some product to make it shine for the cameras. You can hear Kirby moving around, hanging up his bag and probably grabbing a glass of water. With the amount of water that boy drinks, you’d think he’d live in the bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” he greets when the two of you meet in the bedroom. He plants a lingering kiss on your lips, smile soft and relieved as he looks into your eyes. That look never fails to make your heart melt, touched by the way that he feels relaxed and safe around you.

You’ve been together for quite a few years, which is probably how you move around each other so easily. He strips and throws his clothes into the hamper on his way to the shower, and you take the opportunity to smack his ass as he passes by. He jumps and tries to give you a scolding look, but the smile glued to his face gives him away.

Needing to shower multiple times in a day has made him quick with it, so he’s out in time to zip your dress. You’ve already put your jewelry on, just a classy silver necklace-bracelet combo and a few different sized fashion rings. You like the way that they sit at different parts of your fingers, highlighting your hands and making your fingers look long and elegant.

You had tried to convince Kirby to wear something interesting, rather than just a plain black suit. It had kind of worked. The suit was still black, but it had a black satin trim with a subtle pattern that gave the whole look a little something special. The NHL Awards is supposed to be a fancy event, so he didn’t want to do anything too crazy.

You’d been to the award ceremony a couple times before, when teammates and friends had won honors. This was the first time Kirby himself was getting one, and you’re beyond proud. The Art Ross was a huge deal, and it was amazing to have Kirby officially alongside the likes of Gordie Howe and Mario Lemieux.

Once your dress is zipped, you head back into the bathroom to do your makeup. You know it’ll have to be a bit more dramatic and involved to show well on the cameras, so you take your time to get it right. You chat with Kirby through the door as he finishes air drying on the bed, sharing about your days as you usually do when you’re both home.

He’s half dressed by time you finish your makeup, fanning your face to make your setting spray dry faster. You head out into the kitchen to get yourself some water and kill a few minutes until Kirby finishes dressing and doing his hair.

“Can you grab my cufflinks, please?” He calls from the bathroom, “They’re in my bag.” You shout back an affirmative, making your way to the entryway.

His bag hangs next to yours, so you take it down, sitting on the floor to root through it. While your bag is organized neatly so that you can find things easily, Kirby’s backpack is a disaster. You take out clothes, push past empty Tupperware containers, finally finding a velvet box all the way at the bottom. It isn’t until you’ve pulled it out that you realize it’s far too small to be a cufflink case. Plus, you see an appropriately sized box leaning against a notebook at the bottom.

First things first, you grab the larger box to check inside. The cuff links are there, so you set it aside to bring to him. You take a few deep breaths to calm your suddenly racing heart. It doesn’t work. The weight of the small box in your hand feels immense, and lifting the lid is a Herculean effort.

The ring is silver, or maybe platinum or palladium. There are two gemstones as the centerpiece, a garnet and sapphire, entwined with a twisting infinity symbol that morphs into the band. His and your favorite stones, tied together perfectly. It’s beautiful.

That motherfucker.

Yes, you’re happy that he’s planning to propose, ecstatic even. Kirby is the love of your life, and you’ve intended to be with him as long as he’ll allow, ring or not. But yeah, the ring is a nice assurance.

Back to why he’s an asshole. He’s had this ring in his bag for who knows how long. Are you mad that he hasn’t already proposed? No. That he’s given no hint that this was coming? Nah. You’re mad because the ring you got for him has been sitting in your underwear drawer for weeks, and this jerk was going to beat you to the punch. Steal your thunder. Well, he’s got another thing coming.

You’ve been waiting for just the right moment to pop the question, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been procrastinating out of anxiety. Yeah, he’s your soulmate, but there’s still that annoying bit of fear that he could possibly say no. You’d thought about proposing tonight after the ceremony, or maybe behind the scenes after he received his award. You can’t seem to remember why you decided against it.

You pocket the ring box and shove everything back into his bag. Maybe you shouldn’t have sat on the floor in your dress, but you can always have Kirby dust you off if needed. Before you go to him, you open your top drawer as quietly as you can manage. You know exactly where the box is, so it only takes a second to grab.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest as you take another steadying breath on your way to the bathroom. He turns to you when you enter, hair fluffy and suit slightly rumpled. Even after all your time together, he still takes your breath away.

“Thank you, love,” he says when you hand him the cufflink case. He turns back to the mirror to check his hair one last time, before looking down to focus on getting his cuffs properly buttoned. You take a step to the right to ensure that you’re out of his line of sight, carefully adjusting your skirt as you go to one knee.

“You ready?” he asks, turning to where you were just standing. His left hand freezes where it’s tugging his shirt cuff into place, mouth falling open slightly when he sees you on the floor. You raise the box in your shaking hands, forgetting everything you’d been planning to say for the past month.

“Yeah,” you say instead, “I’m ready.” You open the box to present the ring, hoping you don’t sweat your makeup off in anticipation.

“Me too,” he replies, smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen. You’re glad that you don’t have your heels on yet, because you spring up from the ground to wrap him in your arms. Your smiles make kissing difficult, but you can’t seem to stop, anyway. You bury your face in his neck after, glad you’d used a lot of setting spray. A makeup faceprint on his suit would be kind of funny, but probably wouldn’t look the best.

“So, do I get that ring at some point, or?” Kirby teases. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I don’t know, do I get an official yes?” you quip back, already taking the ring out of the holder.

“Yes, you do,” he says confidently, “And yes, I do.” You have to kiss him again for that one. The ring fits perfectly when you slide it onto his finger, hoping he can feel the garnet embedded into the inside of the black band. He kisses you once more afterward, and you can tell he’s squealing with joy on the inside just as much as you are.

“I have to go grab something,” he says, pulling away, “You’re not gonna believe this.” He doesn’t get two steps away before you grab his hand, turning him back toward you. You pull the second ring box out of your pocket, going for a smug smile but probably just looking like a dork.

“You mean this?” you ask, reveling in his shocked expression. Now it’s his turn to punch your shoulder, laughing brightly.

“You’re the worst!” he says, grinning nevertheless. He snatches the box out of your hand while you laugh.

“Turn around,” he orders, “I gotta surprise you too!” You only laugh harder at that, barely able to force yourself to settle as he turns you by the shoulders to face the opposite direction. Once he says “okay”, you turn back to him, giving the most over dramatic performance of your life as you act surprised. You’re both laughing too much for him to get much out, though you’re sure he had a planned speech too.

The ring sliding over your skin is an amazing feeling, but nothing compares to the way he wraps his arms around you once again, resting your foreheads together. You lose track of time looking into his eyes, amazed that you’ve somehow managed to find someone so perfect for you.

Now you have to call your mom so she doesn’t find out through an article. Oops.

#kirby dach imagine #nhl imagines #RI #andis coping mechanism #this is the only time I will ever write for the hawks #please do not ask me to write for them #this is a special circumstance 😂

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shaynawrites23 · 4 years

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For Family Or For Love

Pairing: adult!Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 2492

Prompts: “Are you scared of me?” “No. Never.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

Written for @johnmurphyisbisexual’s writing challenge!

Special thanks to @the-moon-and-the-book for both beta reading and coming up with the title!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy door to your private chambers creaked open to reveal the room’s other occupant; your husband, Remus Lupin. He carried an enormous stack of tests to grade in one hand, two cups of coffee in the other, and he held a newspaper clenched between his teeth. He shut the door the same way he opened it; with his foot.

You leapt forward to help him, taking some of the items from where they balanced precariously in his hold, constantly on the verge of falling. He breathed a sigh of thanks, pressing a kiss to your temple as you made your way to the bed.

Upon closer inspection, you realized half the papers he had brought in were actually yours. You taught Herbology and had recently assigned an essay. You hummed in gratitude when Remus handed you a pastry and a couple of colored muggle pens. You knew the older members of the faculty preferred quill and ink, but you chose pens. They were easier to use and much less tedious to maintain.

He smiled softly, humming in acknowledgement as you both sat down to mark papers. The room lapsed into silence, the only sound being the clicking of pens and the occasional mutters of disapproval when either of you saw something you didn’t particularly like.

A tapping on the window broke you out of your concentration. You spun around, eyes searching for the source of the sound when you spotted a small brown owl perched on the windowsill, rapping its beak against the glass.

A messenger owl.

You jumped up, hurrying over to fling open the window and welcome the creature inside. The poor thing was soaked through; it was pouring outside.

“Rem, will you get me a towel for the owl?”

“Sure thing, love.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and emerged moments later with a navy blue towel.

You gently wrapped the owl up in the cloth, hoping it would help the animal get warm and dry.

There was a small cylindrical vessel strapped to the owl’s back, colored a deep red, like the darkest red visible during a sunset. You undid the clasps holding it in place, popping off the cap and peering inside. The case held a sheet of paper, rolled up tightly in order to make it fit.

“Who’s it from?” Remus’s gentle voice inquired.

You didn’t reply immediately, unfurling the note and letting your eyes fly over the words first.

“My parents,” you finally answered. “They want to have us over for dinner tomorrow evening.”

“That’ll be a welcome distraction from marking papers,” he remarked.

Remus was on relatively good terms with your family. They were somewhat sceptical of his background at first, but decided they would be happy as long as you were. Your father gave a very nervous and jittery Remus his blessing shortly before he proposed, and you had been happily married ever since.

You laughed. “Definitely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning, your hand searched the bed for Remus, for his warmth. You found nothing. Only when your fingers reached the edge of the bed, the precipice between the sheets and the floor, did you open your eyes.

You blinked blearily, letting your eyes get accustomed to the light entering through the small gap between the curtains. Remus was nowhere to be seen.

Throwing on your robes, you shuffled over to the bathroom and peered inside. Where was he? He was indeed a morning person, but there was no reason for him to be up this early in the weekend.

Your incessant internal questions were soon answered when you heard the telltale creak of the heavy wooden door. Remus entered; you could tell from his hunched shoulders he was deep in thought. The dark circles under his eyes told you he had probably not slept much the past few hours.

“Rem? Remus, is everything all right?” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, simply holding up a newspaper and muttering, “See for yourself.”

So you took the paper from him, sitting on the bed as you turned the pages in an attempt to find out what exactly was troubling him so. The sound of the paper crackling under your fingers which usually held so much satisfaction for you, gave you no pleasure this time.

“Oh no.”

You now knew what it was, you knew what had upset him. The fifth page of the paper held a picture of him; it depicted him perfectly, there was no chance of anyone not recognize him. And on the off chance someone didn’t connect the dots, his name was printed right below it. The article revealed his true nature, his lycanthropy, informing everyone who didn’t yet know that Hogwarts’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a werewolf.

You glanced up. Remus stood at the open window, both hands leaning on the windowsill as he looked out over the school grounds. You could tell from his posture he was incredibly worried, and he had every right to be. No one would hire a werewolf, much less send their child to a school which had one employed as a teacher.

“Remus?”

“How could this happen?” His voice cracked and you knew he was trying his very best to keep control of his emotions. “We were so careful, how is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “But we’ll handle this the way we always do; together.”

“There’s nothing left to handle.”

“Remus, my love, don’t give up hope. There’s always something. Perhaps my family can help; they have a well-respected name.”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead gazing out over the field where students were playing, studying, or just hanging out.

“They don’t know yet, do they?” It was not a question, more like a statement, as you both knew it to be true.

“They don’t- they didn’t,” you sighed. “But my family knows you. We’re married, for Merlin’s sake. They’re not going to shun you.”

“We shall see about that,” he muttered, straightening up nevertheless. “In the meantime, I should probably have a talk with Minnie. I’ll see you later for lunch?”

You nodded. “As always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fastening your hairpin, you gave yourself a final once over in the mirror. You were dressed to the nines, and yet you wouldn’t classify your attire as too fancy for the occasion. Satisfied with your appearance, you exited the bathroom adjoining your shared bedroom to go look for Remus.

“Rem?” you called. “You ready to go?

You opened the door separating your bedroom from the hallway with its incredibly high ceilings, as could be expected from any old building. Your husband stood outside, leaning against the wall as he waited.

He hummed in confirmation, a soft smile spreading over his face at the sight of you. He reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours as he twirled you around slowly, admiration plain in his eyes. Pulling you close, he pressed his lips to yours, gingerly, as though you were the most precious treasure one could possibly imagine.

“Rem!” you laughed, “We have to go! You know my mother hates when we’re late!”

“As my lady wishes.”

With that, he waved his wand and you disapparated, reapparating right outside your parents’ large house. Walking up the cold stone steps, you felt Remus stiffen slightly, and you squeezed his hand. A comforting gesture, one he immediately returned.

The doorbell sounded loudly, chiming once, twice, three times before falling silent. You waited as quick, light footsteps approached, flinging open the door.

“Auntie (y/n)!” the young girl cried, jumping up and down in excitement. It was your young niece Ada, dressed in a pretty pink skirt and with her hair coiffed in cute, bouncy curls. “It’s auntie (y/n)!”

Another set of footsteps approached, slower and calmer than Ada’s. Your mother appeared in the doorway, smiling and greeting you and Remus as she ushered you inside.

“Dinner’s not ready yet,” she remarked casually as she returned to the kitchen, presumably to continue preparing the meal.

Little Ada remained by your side, dragging you by your hand to come look at her latest drawing. Remus still stood in the hall, but the young girl kept you so occupied you could do little more than glance at him every few minutes.

Your father and your brother soon entered, laughing loudly at what must have been an incredibly funny joke.

“Ah, (y/n)!” your father exclaimed when he spotted you sitting in a corner with Ada on your lap and a children’s book in your hand. “I see Ada’s gotten to you already.”

“Yes, she has. I didn’t remember her having this much energy the last time,” you joked, but Ada tugged on your arm to remind you you were supposed to be reading her fairytales.

“Ah, and Remus.” You couldn’t help but notice how much less enthusiastic your father’s greeting was when it was addressed to your husband.

“How’s Edward doing?” your brother cut in. “Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”

Edward was your brother’s eldest child, older than Ava by six years. He started his first year at Hogwarts that year, and your brother was rather anxious about his progress.

“He’s doing very well in his classes,” Remus replied. “Naturally, he’s pulled a couple of pranks here and there, but that is to be expected from such an energetic young lad like him.”

“I see. And no issues with… supernatural creatures?”

Your head snapped up at that. Ada whined for you to continue reading, but you simply told her to wait a moment. You were certain there was a venomous serpent hiding somewhere in your brother’s words, and when it would jump out to ambush you, someone was sure to get hurt.

Remus remained perfectly calm. “None that I am aware of. The boy’s a very talented wizard; he has proven himself very capable of defeating any creature we presented him with.”

Your brother’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and as if struck by a lightning bolt of insight, you know this was heading downhill. It was only a matter of moments before he’d attack Remus about his lycanthropy.

You were right.

“Lupin, you’re a danger to the children! It’s not safe for them to be around you.”

“He is not!” you burst out. You stood up and stalked over to them, the fairytale long forgotten.

“He’s a werewolf.” Your brother spoke in the same tone you’d heard him use when explaining things to Ada; things that one would expect to be obvious.

“He’s also a professor, and has been for years. Nothing’s happened.”

“Maybe not yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, clearly wondering what on earth was going on. Rather than engage herself in the argument, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.

Remus’s hand searched for yours, entwining his fingers with yours as soon as he found it. You noticed your brother’s gaze fly towards the gesture, as if he feared a more nefarious action. But Remus was simply holding your hand, squeezing gently as if to say, ‘calm down, love.’

“(y/n), get away from him.” Your brother’s order hung in the air like a sword dangling above both your heads, waiting to see who would give in first. Your parents seemed to want to intervene, but you could tell they didn’t know what to do.

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No, I won’t.” You felt like a defiant child arguing with a parent, but that didn’t matter to you. “He’s my husband and I love him. Werewolf or not.”

“It’s okay, darling,” Remus whispered to you, tone low enough that no one else could catch his words.

“What, are you threatening her now?” Your brother was clearly beyond seeing reason, too angry to think logically.

Remus was caught off guard by that accusation, and unfortunately for him, his split second’s hesitation was plain to see. “I merely told her it was okay, that she doesn’t need to fight for my honor.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am not in the habit of lying. I am an honest man and am telling the truth.” There was a stark contrast between your brother’s wild accusations and Remus’s calm demeanor. You only hoped it would not simply pour more oil onto the fire.

“You’re a monster,” he finally spat, as if the words themselves were pure poison. “How do we know it’s not only a matter of time before you hurt (y/n)?”

That was a low blow and you all knew it. Your mother gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.

“I would never hurt her.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t, but what about the wolf?”

Neither of you could answer that, both fully aware he didn’t have that much control over his other half.

“Please excuse me,” Remus muttered, glancing at your parents before grabbing his coat and leaving the building.

“There. Look what you’ve done. That was low and we all know it,” you seethed.

“(y/n), he’s dangerous! He could kill you!”

“So what? So could any other wizard. So could you, or mom. So could Ada, if she were determined enough.” You crossed your arms as you reached deep inside yourself, attempting to maintain your composure.

“But you can trust we won’t.”

“What? I can trust the same of him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trust him.”

“So you would trust a wolf not to attack?” Your brother took two steps forward, as if his subconscious wanted to intimidate you into losing the argument. Nice try. You weren’t easily intimidated.

“He’s not a wolf! He’s Remus. My husband.”

You saw the surprise on his face when you emphasized your relationship with Remus, and you took that opportunity to continue.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” With that, you stalked out as well, waiting until you disappeared behind the hedge outside to run after Remus.

He probably heard you coming, because you found him standing around the corner, as if he were waiting. The look in his eyes told you he had probably fought with himself to decide whether or not to wait for you to catch up.

“Rem, please ignore what he said. I know it’s hard, but he’s spewing nonsense.”

“Love, are you scared of me?”

“No. Never.” He had barely gotten his words out before you replied, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Your family seems to think you should be.”

“Remus, it doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stepped closer to you, cradling your cheek gently, as if he were afraid you’d shatter like glass if he was just slightly too rough with you.

Leaning in slowly, he captured your lips with his in a sweet kiss. And that alone conveyed all he needed to say.

“I love you too.”

taglist: @the-moon-and-the-book @decalcomanei @emcchi

#ryswritingchallenge #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fic #adult!remus lupin x reader #professor lupin x reader

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝓮 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓮𝒹 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷!𝒮𝒶𝓃) 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑈

"𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆...

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍’𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔.."

-𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young raven haired man strolled through the crowds of other guests, taking a glance or two whenever something seemed to catch his eyes. But those glances were only fleeting. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting in any of them.

He took in the scene before him: long, glittering ball gowns spun around, either in tune to the orchestra playing or in a presumptuous effort to be shown off to others. The male specimen differed no greater than their female counterparts, often standing up straighter or running a hand down their expensive and delicately tailored suits, except they were willing to take it a step further and actually discuss how much they paid for it.

Foolish mortals

He scoffed as he studied each one of them. It was truly sickening to him how much humanity had reached its lowest point. More frequently than not, he noticed how humans more than ever were vain, prideful, arrogant, egotistic and disdainful of anything or anyone who wasn't them.

It wasn't entertaining anymore. He recalls a time many centuries ago when he would get a thrill out of corrupting the innocent, driving the wisest of beings into insanity, destroying picture perfect marriages and making the purest of souls fall into an abyss of sin and darkness.

What was the point of trying to do all that now when some of them are destined for destruction since the moment of their birth? It truly irritated him.

Sighing he picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays carried around by the many butlers, poor useless souls as he liked to refer to them. He sipped on the crimson liquid, it's alcoholic venom doing nothing to him even though it was probably his 13th one already.

13? Was it?

He lost count. He shrugged it off though. He could drink it as if it were pure water, his kind were immune to this substance unlike humanity.

He snorted when he'd look at certain people's masks. While most went all fancy and elegant, others decided to have fun and make sure their attire stood out, in the form of red or black masks, adorned with either fangs, horns and overall rather gruesome or grotesque visages. Clearly they were meant to represent none other than his fellow kindred. He scoffed at their personification of him.

"Damnable bastards. If only you knew we are some of the most beautiful creatures to walk next to you....."

Perhaps that's the main reason why they all, man or woman, no matter their age, education or social status, end up ensnared by them. They were irresistible.

He was about to walk out of the hall, bored out of his non-existent soul, when a small titter caught his ears. Turning his face towards the sound, his breath was caught at the sight of an ethereal looking woman. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was absolutely perfect: from her luscious (enter color) hair, to her satin smooth skin, all the way down the her tempting figure. Her scarlet colored dress was impeccably on her, the deep plunge in the chest decorated with sequins and rhinestones daring men to not gaze at her cleavage. The waistline was fitted and then fanned out to accentuate her captivating body. Anyone would think this lady was sin itself, she certainly looked the part.

But San knew better. He could see and feel the aura around her. She was wholly pure, absolutely nothing to signify that she'd been stained or deemed unclean. She was simply an overly sheltered girl who no doubt wanted to fit in, be regarded as a mundane person like the rest of them.

Absolutely perfect if you asked him.

He sauntered in her direction, his devilish smirk plastered on his face. Sensing a pair of eyes, she tilted her head and made contact with the demon, now unable to look away from his alluring gaze. Even through the mask covering half of his face, she knew he was the most handsome man she'd ever see, albeit she'd never seen a lot of men in her life anyway.

Inexperienced and naive as she was, she let him stand next to her and take her hand. Lifting it up to his lips, he introduced himself:

"Choi San. Pleased to make your acquaintance my fair lady."

Delicately, he placed a kiss to her fingers, before releasing them from his hold. His touch was cold, but it sent a burning sensation up her entire arm and she found herself longing for his touch again almost instantly.

"L/N Y/N..." She replied in a voice that was merely above a whisper.

"A truly befitting name for such an angelic lady."

He chuckled to himself at his use of the word. If he was successful, which he always was, by the end of the night, there'd be nothing angelic left about her.

He extended his arm out towards her.

"May I have the pleasure of requesting the next dance?"

He made it a point to flash his dimples, knowing they only added to his charm and rendered women unable to refuse him. She stood up and linked her arm in his. He felt a shiver when she touched him, a feeling he only felt when his kind were in the proximity of a pure soul. It was precisely what he'd been craving for who knows how long. Definitely more than a hundred years since the last time he felt such a presence.

He guided her to the dance floor, the other couples already in position. If there was anything San prided himself on, it was his dancing. He's had years of experience to learn almost every dance that had been created, not only because it added to his attractiveness, but because it truly was one of the few mundane things he thoroughly enjoyed.

He especially loved the waltz they were currently playing. Waltzes were so elegant, refined, polished and were perfect when seducing someone. Intense eye contact, hands intertwined and his arm pulling her close to him, he could see a glimpse of the light blush peeking out underneath her ebony mask. She was flustered, exactly how he wanted her. They were practically gliding across the dance floor, perfectly in tune with the music playing.

"Did you come alone?" San decided it was time to strike up a conversation before going for the kill.

Y/N simply nodded, looking down somewhat ashamed. Instantly he knew she was probably not supposed to be here in the first place.

Interesting detail.

"Tired of sitting at home all bored?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but already knowing the answer.

"Can you tell?" She asked, wondering if he could read her mind.

"Well..... I can tell a lot of things about you..."

Releasing his hold on her waist, he lifted his hand to spin her around before bringing her back into his embrace, now closer than before.

"Things like what?" She wanted him to elaborate.

He hummed along to the music, making her impatient for his answer.

"Like..... how you want something exciting to happen tonight. Your eyes are practically for something, anything, that contrasts the dull life you've lived so far..."

She widened her eyes when he spoke those words. Was she that easy to read? That a mere stranger could notice that about her?

"And your countenance only serves to confirm my theory." He finished.

She sighed softly and loosened her grip on him, wanting to walk away, but he only tightened his hold on her. He smirked at her and leaned in, whispering dangerously close to her lips:

"Why don't you let me open up a new world for you?"

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The girl fluttered her eyes open, soft blissful pants escaping her lips. It had been a while since they left the mansion, where San took her to what she assumed was his place. Ruby red walls with matching velvet carpet, umber brown furniture, candles in every corner being the only illuminating feature in the dark room. The only exception was the bed. It was a pitch black color with white sheets and blanket.

Her dress had long been discarded in one of the chairs in the room, the only article clothing her at the moment being her cream colored garter belt with matching thigh high stockings. San thought they looked absolutely adorable on her. The visual only heightened his need to claim her, to corrupt her, to stain her forever with his unholy mark.

He was currently in between her legs, his mouth attached to her heat. Purple blotches were already decorating her inner thighs, courtesy of his teeth. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking down on it. He moaned and that action alone made her thighs tremble and close around his head. But he was having none of that. His hands pushed her thighs apart again, nails digging into her petal soft skin as he continued to ravish and feast on her succulent taste.

"S-San...wait...feels f-funny...." She stuttered out after a few minutes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to: she had about to have an orgasm. As much as he'd love to see her come undone on his tongue alone, he made an effort to pull himself back before the feeling got too intense. She let out a whine of frustration and looked at him with a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.

San ran his thumb across her lip.

"Don't worry darling. I told you I'll open up a new world for you..

And I always keep my promises."

Unzipping his pants, he pushed them down his legs and threw them onto the floor. He smirked as he took in Y/N's astonishment as she gaped at his nude form, or more specifically, at his thick and long length. She seemed to hesitate for a minute, no doubt intimidated by his size, wondering how was that supposed to fit in her.

Climbing on top of her, he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple.

"I'll take good care of you darling...trust me."

His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped inside and danced around her mouth, almost like the waltz from hours before. His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist. He lifted his hips up slowly, the tip of his cock pressing against her folds. He began slipping inside her, going inch by inch so she could get adjusted to the feeling, not wanting to scare her.

Although it took a lot in him to not just pound into her as he wished to.

She wrapped her thighs tighter around his waist, the foreign and stinging feeling of his intrusion causing her to hiss and cry out a little. San peppered kisses across her jaw and neck in an effort to soothe the pain, while his hands drew circles around her thighs. He stayed still until he felt her relax under him. She looked back at him, her face asking what to do now.

"I'm going to start moving now ok? Just relax and let yourself go."

He pulled out of her in a speed that was torturous to him. Then he slowly pushed himself back in, watching as she took deep breaths and looked down at where their bodies connected. The more she looked at him pushing in and out, the more it helped to relax and put her at ease. San knew it too. Her at first raspy breathing turned to soft, melodious moaning.

His hips snapped up and began rolling at a faster pace, causing his cock to hit the perfect angle in her. Her breath hitched and she gasped when the overwhelming feeling in her stomach started to return, building up inside her, threatening to be released any second now.

The demon could feel it too. He's had years of experience to know what her body was doing. He watched as her face contorted, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Sa-San..." She called out, trying to warn him.

He smirked at her.

"I know, I can feel you clenching around me. You feel so good. I can't wait to feel you cum on my immense cock."

His dirty talking only served to have her whine underneath him. His hand reached down and began toying with her nipple.

"So come on babygirl, let me feel you burst. I know you can do it.....

Give it to me."

He commanded those last words to her and just like he knew would happen, she shuddered under his body, her first orgasm in her entire life taking over her, a soft pathetic whimper being the only noise she could muster. It wasn't anything too loud or over the top, as San pretty much expected. It was her first time.

Besides.....there was plenty of time to have her scream his name.

He kissed her nose and smiled.

"You did so well darling. I'm so proud of you."

She blushed at his compliments. San pulled out of her, a proud evil grin plastered on his face as he noticed the sticky trail that dripped out of her onto the sheets: a few droplets of blood signifying he had deflowered her.

Now to corrupt her even more.

He picked her body up and spun her around, making her get down on all fours as he gripped her hips once again.

"Now it's my turn to have a little fun."

She let out a loud moan when he entered her for the second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. San didn't bother to go slow anymore, he knew she could take it. He thrusted in and out of her at an inhuman speed, low moans and hisses coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck! I can feel you getting close again beautiful, your pussy is so fucking tight, it's practically swallowing my cock."

He chuckled when he felt her clench even tighter around him.

"Oh you like that don't you? You like being told you're nothing but a cockslut?"

She hid her face in the pillow in front of her, trying to hide the groan that just past through her throat. San however grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back up.

"Answer me you little whore."

She yelped when his hand landed a harsh smack to her ass.

"Y-yes San!"

He smacked her once again before pulling her even more roughly and pressing her back to his chest.

"Right now it's Master. Got it you filthy slut?" He growled into her ear.

"Yes Master!" She cried out.

"Good little whore." He praised her.

He continued his merciless pounding, one of his hands trailing down her abdomen to rub her now swollen and pink clit. Y/N now had a few tears rolling down her cheeks from the overstimulation and she hung her head low.

"Uh uh little slut. None of that."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up. He tilted her slightly to the right so she could see their sinful reflection in the mirror by the wall.

"Look at you. You look so fucking desperate, wanting to cum again on my cock. Is that what you want? To cum on master's cock? Then beg for it."

Y/N let out a series of whimpers, collecting all the strength she could to cry out:

"Please master! I want to cum, let me cum on your cock!"

San was loving this. It had been so long since he had such an innocent thing begging for him.

"How bad do you want it darling? Does Master's cock make you feel that good?" He teased her.

"Please Master I want it so bad! It feels so good, please don't stop!" Her words were barely incoherent now from how overwhelmed with pleasure she was.

Having being satisfied by her answer, he squeezed her throat, causing her to gasp and writhe her body as her second orgasm took over, far more intense than the first. He never slowed down his pace therefore making her convulse even more violently and shriek out a chant of his name, further heightening his pride and ego.

Very soon after, he cursed loudly as he reached his own climax, his cock spurting out his cum inside her, filling her up with his sinful load. She collapsed on the bed, worn out by the physical intimacy that just took place. San chucked darkly when not even a minute later she was completely passed out. That always happened. Humans couldn't handle having intercourse with a demon, they were practically insatiable and always passed out after a night with them.

Pulling the blanket to cover her, San ran his fingers through her hair. He admired her features for a few minutes. She was really beautiful, an ethereal beauty that only came once every century. Even in her now corrupted and tainted state, she was still the most alluring person he'd ever seen, and he's seen even angels themselves.

Now he knew he wanted her all to himself, completely for him and for no one else to own. He wasn't going to allow anyone to take her from him. He didn't have to worry about celestial beings claiming her, they wouldn't want her now. But other demons might want her.....

Getting up he opened a drawer and took out something he'd never imagine using in any lifetime. But there was always a first time for everything. He held up the gold contraption in his hand before letting it set over one of the flames from the various candles in the room. Once he made sure it was hot enough, he approached Y/N quietly.

It's a good thing she wouldn't wake up for a couple hours....

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Y/N squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lighting. She felt a dull aching in her lower abdomen and legs, reminding her of the events that took place last night. She looked around, seeing that she was still at San's place, but he was nowhere to be found. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, feeling some sort of burning and stinging pain.

She paused when she looked at the mirror and noticed something on the back of her shoulder. Getting up and trying her hardest to walk with her limp, she went to the mirror and turned slightly to the left. She froze when there was a bright red mark on her upper back in the shape of a pentagram with the letter 'S' in the middle of it.

She started freaking out. Was this some kind of joke? Where was San?

"Well good morning my dear."

Speaking of the devil, he appeared right behind her, making her whip around and face him.

"Did you do this?" She asked, pointing to the mark.

"I did. I think it really suits you." He smiled proudly.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why you ask? It's simple."

He took a few steps forward. Leaning in, he gripped her chin.

"Because you're mine now and I own you."

She scoffed at his words, repulsed that he could do this.

"You're insane." She spat out.

"I've been called worse." He sat up straight again.

Y/N marched over to the chair on the other side and began grabbing her clothes.

"And just where do you think you're doing?" San crossed his arms in front of him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

He let out a hearty laugh at that.

"Leaving? Oh no sweetheart. You're not leaving. You can't leave me." He told her.

"Yeah? Watch me."

She pushed him out of her way and headed for the door, but before she could reach for the handle, San appeared right in front of her out of thin air, causing her to step back in fear.

"What the-" She exclaimed.

"Let me repeat myself darling..."

San began to take steps towards her as she began to slowly retreat from him.

"I own you. You can't leave because you're mine now. I marked you so no one else takes you from me, in other words..."

He slammed his hand against the wall behind her when they reached it. She watched in horror as his dark orbs shifted into a fiery red color that burned deep in her soul.

"You're bound to me for all eternity...... and now you're a part of my world....and there's no turning back..."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #choi san #demon!ateez #demon!au #ateez angst #ateez san smut #ateez san scenarios #ateez san fanfic #ateez san angst #ateez san au #demon!san

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deepdarkdelights · 4 years

Text

The Darkness of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Blood, Gore, Non-Consensual touching (Reader is asleep, nothing innately sexual occurs)

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: He was in a deep, bottomless love. His sweet angel, stained in his blood was a sight that he was blessed to see. He never wanted to live again if it meant he couldn’t have her and if he couldn’t have the delirium she gave him. They were connected now, he had never felt closer to anyone in his life, he couldn’t even think about ever being near someone else if she wasn’t his. What began so innocently evolved into something dark and twisted: the creation of a monster.

A/N: Hello! This will be the first post I am making to my brand new blog! Please be gentle with me, I have not written and uploaded something to any platform in around four years now I believe. Despite saying that, I am open to constructive criticism and would love to see what anyone thinks about this (if it gets seen lmao) and make changes to my writing where you see fit! Thank you for giving me a chance and reading my work, I hope to see you in the comments!

“She’s so beautiful.” He thought to himself. And she truly was. But, her beauty did not reside in her looks as much as it resided in her pain. He found her pain to be achingly beautiful. She was so desperately calling out for someone to love her, for someone to answer the sweet calls of her anguish and recognize it’s melody. To him, he was the only one that could respond. He was the only one that was worthy of her presence and her pain, even if just barely. Because, to him, she was an angel. An angel shackled by her agony and trapped on earth, waiting.

It all started innocently enough. It first began with his longing gaze and fleeting moments between them. Merely passing her in the hallways on campus was enough to give him a rush, flooding his body in ecstasy. She was a drug, something that starts in small doses but quickly becomes not nearly enough. Her very being demanded his attention, demanded that he see her and crave her.

Her.

What was once a simple word now represented his incapability of even breathing without thinking about her.

The first time he saw her, she was alone and she was crying. Unbeknownst to him, at the time, this was simply one of many breakdowns that had occurred that week. His angel was so frail, so hurt, and so unbelievably scared. What he would give to stop those tears, to hold her close, and to never allow anyone to hurt her ever again. But he was him, and she was her. He was so…awkward. How could someone like her ever even give him the time of day? He had nothing to offer her, nothing to help her. But how long could he hold out, how long could he stop himself from taking things too far? The answer was not long.

Seeing her in the hallways proved to not be enough. This developed into him working in admissions just so he could find her class schedule, to know where she was at all times of the day. And that quickly evolved into him dropping his classes to be with her.

Academic Writing 112, she sat in the far right of the seventh row with a seat left unoccupied next to her. It didn’t stay that way for long, and at the time that was the boldest move he had made: sitting next to her. His body vibrated with anxiety as the chair scrapped against the flooring, his backpack thudding loudly beside him. Her head jerked slightly at the noise, her eyes flicking quickly to him and back to the front of the room as she raised her hand to settle over her mouth.

“She looked at me.” He thought, his heart pounding in response. God, her eyes were perfect. They were deep and frightened, but so perfect. Those fleeting moments were what he lived for, just being next to her felt like a privilege. What he would give just to have her look at him, and him only, forever with those gorgeous eyes.

No words were passed between them. He was too awkward, and she was in too much pain.

The next step he took were the pictures. Everywhere she went, he took pictures. He had all different kinds of pictures, some were of her studying, some of her crying, some of her undressing, and some of her sleeping. His phone’s gallery quickly became devoted to her, she was everywhere he went because he followed her wherever she went. To him, these pictures were meant to help, to alleviate the ache that was deeply rooted in his chest whenever he couldn’t see her. But if anything, the ache deepened and formed a wound that festered as his sick love grew.

His beautiful angel that didn’t notice him made him sicker and sicker as each day passed. And as he grew sicker, her pain became torture. Everywhere she went, she felt eyes following her. There was an inescapable force constantly following her, constantly letting her know her downfall was being spectated. This constant spiral downwards was being watched no matter where she attempted to escape to.

Time stretched on and soon the pictures just weren’t enough. He needed her, he needed more of her. It wasn’t long before he began breaking into her apartment. He sacrificed not seeing her, so he could have pieces of her. The fire-escape led directly to her room and the broken air conditioning resulted in an unlocked and open window. It wasn’t hard for him to prevent traces of his presence. He carefully removed his shoes before entering, so that no prints would alert his angel of his being there. His first action was always directed to her bed. He would press himself against her sheets and inhale lungfuls of her scent, rubbing his face against her pillows like a cat. Shivers would wrack his body as his fists clenched the sheets beneath him. She was intoxicating, she was his drug, his angel.

His next course of action was her hamper. He only permitted himself to take one item per month, it was less suspicious that way but also rather difficult. Last month, he had taken her sleep shirt. It was baggy and smelled like her. When he slept in his own bed he would hold it tightly to him, picturing it was her, that she was there with him like she should be. This month, he took what he had held out on for so long, her panties. His cheeks were stained red as he carefully removed the used pair from her hamper.

“Fuck.” He whispered, his hands trembling as he quickly pocketed the item. He couldn’t get too distracted now, he only had so much time.

Each visit was becoming riskier, he was sure she noticed the missing articles of clothing, even if he had limited himself. It was only a matter of time before she found him out, or before she contacted someone and put an end to his visits. And he couldn’t have that, this was his way of being close to her, of being with her.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, because God, it was beyond fucked up. But he needed her. He needed her more than air, more than anything else in his life. He would gladly drop to his knees and kiss the fucking ground she walked upon if she asked him with those beautiful, pained eyes of hers.

And from there, things only got worse. Soon enough, he was watching her sleep nearly every night. He would follow the same procedure as he did with his daytime visits, but this time veiled in the darkness of the night. If she was beautiful in the daytime, she was damn near ethereal in the dark. Her perfect lips parted as her chest rose and fell with relaxed breaths, her hair sprawled around her on her pillows in a halo, like an angel. His angel. The scooped neck of her shirt revealed her smooth collarbones and shining skin, the moonlight highlighting her face perfectly. She was so tempting, and so painfully unaware of her intruder. He inched closer to her bed, fingers delicately brushing her sheets as he itched to caress the skin of her face and the gentle slope of her neck. Would she wake up if he touched her? Would those plush lips part in a scream and those deep eyes widen in fear?

Did he want that?

A soft huff of air left her lips as she wriggled in her sleep, his body tensing in fear that she would wake. He kept still and quiet for a few moments, making sure that she was still submerged in a deep sleep. The silence rang in his ears as he watched her settle down, relaxing into the warmth of her covers. He quietly stepped closer, observing her sweet sleeping face once more. He gently rested a hand on the bed and lowered himself down next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. She didn’t move, only her chest continued its steady rise and fall with each breath she took. He slowly reached a hand out and gently caressed her cheek, pulling her hair away from her face. His hand still rested as light as a feather on her face, his thumb gently swiping back and forth over the smooth stretch of skin. He hadn’t realized before, but now he noticed just how close his face rested beside hers.

“What would she do if I kissed her?” He wondered, his fingers still stroking her face yet just barely touching her as to not rouse her from her slumber.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” He mused, leaning in even closer to her. And then he kissed her, so lightly it was like a breeze brushing over her. His fingers paused their ministrations as his eyes slipped closed, leaning into the inviting warmth of her soft lips. It was like heaven. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, threatening to crash straight through his rib-cage as his lips moved ever so softly against her still ones. What happened in mere seconds felt like the meeting of heaven and hell, his sweet, broken angel lying blissfully unaware beneath him. He swiftly pulled back, his breaths coming out in sharp and fast pants. His angel still slept, unaware of the intruder by her side.

She was addictive and undoubtedly his.

The next day, she never showed up to class. The seat to his right was empty, a stark reminder of her absence. She wasn’t in the library, or at the coffee shop where she spent her time after classes. So, she had to be at home. Could he risk visiting her while she was awake? Would he be able to sneak in without her noticing, or would he have to come up with a different approach, one that would be wildly different in comparison to all the actions he had taken up to this point?

That was how he found himself at her front door instead of her window. He took a deep breath and shook himself out, his trembling fist hesitating before it finally connected with the wood of the flimsy door. At first, he was met with silence. And then he could hear her. She was stumbling through her apartment, making her way to the door, making her way to him.

“Who - who’s there?” She croaked, her voice rough and dry like she had just been crying. Had his angel been crying again? Of course he fucking missed it.

“Hello?” She called again after the stretch of silence.

“(Y/N)? It’s Namjoon, from academic writing.” He replied, his voice far calmer than he actually felt. He was finally talking to her.

There was silence for a moment and then the clattering of metal before the door opened, it was wide enough for him to see her eyes and nose, but the rest of her was obscured from his sight. He felt a tug of disappointment in his gut at only being able to see so little of her.

“What do you want?” She asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took him in.

“You weren’t in class today so I grabbed what you missed. I figured I’d bring it to you so you wouldn't fall behind.” He replied, his heartbeat quickening, this was the most they had ever spoken to one another in all the time he had known her.

She blinked slowly as silence settled between them. After a few moments she slammed the door completely shut, undoing the door chain before opening it fully. She was breathtaking. Her hair was slightly mussed from sleep and her eyes were puffy with deep bruises settled beneath them. The shirt she wore was two sizes too big and wrinkled, hanging limply off one of her shoulders. Her lips looked cracked and dry, like she was dehydrated or maybe even sick. But she was stunning to him.

“Well?” She said, shaking her head slightly. “Where is it?”

“Oh! Oh, right…” He trailed off, jerking his bag off of his shoulder and removing the requested items, handing them off to her. Not once did she move from behind the door frame, staying in the darkness of her apartment. Not one light was on and not one curtain was open. It was practically night in the depths of her home. Her delicate hands, he noticed, were gripping the door tightly, the skin stretching painfully across her knuckles like she was anchoring herself down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” He asked, his gaze giving her a once over again. There was a beat of silence before she responded.

“Go home, Namjoon.” And then the door was slammed shut once more.

He didn’t listen to her.

When the sun had set and the moon hung high in the dead of the night, he found himself at her apartment again. This time, he was where he was comfortable: settled outside her cracked open window and removing his shoes. He needed to make up for the time he had lost with her that day. Speaking to her was exhilarating, it gave him almost as much of a rush when he kissed her. But still, he needed more of her.

He slid inside her room again, finding his footing expertly before creeping towards her once more. She was still as gorgeous as she had been when he saw her earlier, her face no longer pinched in agitation but smooth and relaxed in the throes of sleep. He settled beside her, as he did often, and set to caressing her hair as she slumbered on. It was unfair how beautiful she was, how perfect she was every time he saw her. What he would give to be here with her, always soothing her as she slept. He could only hope that one day he could be next to her when she woke, that she would want him to be there with her, that she would want him. What would it take for her to be his completely? To surrender to him as he had to her?

That fantasy crumbled as fast as it had come to his mind. It had happened so quickly and so unexpectedly, a crash from the alley outside echoing through the open window into her room. She jerked awake, her breathing quick and confused as she propped herself up on her elbows. His heart stopped as her eyes met his in the dark. With a screech she threw herself from the bed, falling to her back on the ground.

“(Y/N)?!” He cried, rising from his place and running to her side as she struggled to stand.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” She yelled, shakily standing as she stepped backwards, watching him while trying to find the door, her hand cupped over her nose and mouth. Had she hurt herself?

“(Y/N), sweetheart, please calm down! You don’t understand!” He cried, as he launched himself forward, grasping her wrists in an attempt to stop her from leaving.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” She yelled, violently thrashing against his hold as he pulled her into his chest, pinning her against him. Her breathing was labored and fast as she continued to struggle.

“Baby, please, I’m not here to hurt you! I love you so much, I would never hurt you!” He persisted, muscles tensing with strain as he attempted to keep her close to him, to force her to listen. “Please, I need you to listen to me! It’s okay!”

“You fucking perv! Let go of me before I can’t stop it!” She groaned, her head dropping causing her forehead to brush against his chest, his heart beating louder and faster than before.

“I’m not - I’m not a perv, don’t say that.” He begged, his eyes welling up with tears as his grip tightened even more around her. “I’m here because I was protecting you, you’re so precious to me I just can’t stand the thought of you being alone, here, without me.”

Her head was slightly rocking back and forth, her breaths even and paced as her body shuddered under his touch. She remained silent as he continued, his words blurring into static in her ears as his heartbeat pounded in her head. The steady, rhythmic beats vibrated in her ears and skull.

Her mouth watered.

She was hungry, so fucking hungry.

“Baby? Are you listening?” He whispered to her, cupping her cheeks to lift her face from his chest to meet his gaze. In a matter of seconds she had him pinned, his body forced down onto the mattress as she straddled his waist. The confusion plastered on his face quickly contorted to pain as she yanked his head to the side, her jaw snapping down and locking on his neck, blood rushing forth, hot and thick running down her throat. She moaned in delight as he shivered in pain beneath her. He groaned deeply as his hands came up to rest on her hips, pulling her tighter against him, relishing in the pain she was giving him, her pain that she was giving him. She continued to feed from him, unbothered by the soft strokes of his hands over her hips, encouraging her to continue.

He was in shock, he was in pain, and he was also in a deep, bottomless love. His sweet angel, stained in his blood was a sight that he was blessed to see. He never wanted to live again if it meant he couldn’t have her and if he couldn’t have the delirium she gave him. They were connected now, he had never felt closer to anyone in his life, he couldn’t even think about ever being near someone else if she wasn’t his.

Her body squirmed above him, groaning deeply as she sunk her teeth into his flesh even harder, forcing the blood to pool into her waiting mouth. His hands continued to softly stroke the exposed skin of her hips, relishing in the closeness of their bodies. He must be so sick to be enjoying this, to accept this so easily. But if he was sick he hoped there was no cure.

Her jaw finally relaxed allowing her sharp incisors to slip free from his throat. Soft pants left her body as her head rested in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She felt like she was drunk, a soft purr like noise rumbling in her chest as she laid limply on top of him, spiraling in her high.

He was tired, his body heavy like lead. Still, he raised his hands to settle on her back and softly rub circles into her skin. He knew he had lost far too much blood, his vision was already beginning to blur, black spots starting to obstruct his view of his angel. If only he could stay awake forever so that he never had to live for a moment without seeing her. Her body rose from his, her delicate hands grasping his shoulders to allow her to sit upright on his hips. The sight of her was euphoria inducing. Blood stained her sweet lips and rolled down the smooth column of her neck, coming to rest at her decolletage. Her hair was as wild as her doe-like eyes, shining with tears that began to slowly run a path down the slope of her cheeks.

“Namjoon?” She whispered. She seemed confused, like a fog lifted that had previously clouded her memory. One of her hands shakily raised to her face, dragging through the fresh blood that painted her skin. She slowly brought her hand into the moonlight, revealing the shining, scarlet blood.

“What happened? What - what did I do?!” She cried, her bloody hands curling around his shirt to shake him, attempting to keep him awake and responsive.

His eyes were now feeling as heavy as his body, it was difficult to keep them open but he so desperately wanted to see his sweet angel, glowing red in the soft light. His eyes fluttered as he tried to stay awake, fighting the fatigue that was washing over him, but he couldn’t fight his own body. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, his lashes coming to rest delicately on the crests of his cheeks. He could still hear her and feel her, her cries were loud and her body shook with violent sobs as she tried to keep him with her.

And as he drifted, all he could think was: “She’s so beautiful.”

#bts #bts namjoon #bts x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #rm x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #bts fanfic #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader

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apossessionadaybreak · 3 years

Text

Halloween Special

Gary looked up from the TV just in time to see his son come out from his room for what was probably the fifth time that day to stare intently at him. He supposed this was some sort of new-age method of showing disapproval. He had to admit, it was a little unnerving, but someone had to be the disciplinarian.

“Ryan, I know you’re bored but you’re grounded for good reason and you know it. Just because it’s Halloween tonight doesn’t mean you can go around egging and TPing people’s houses, especially not poor old Mr. Quille. You know that he can’t get around so easily anymore.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say dad.”

Gary heard the sounds of shuffling feet and the slamming of a door. He sighed again.

Shaking his head to himself, he was about to turn his attention back to his programme only to be distracted by a stab of light coming from the table.

He turned, annoyed, to the source, only to find himself staring at a book. He looked quizzically at it for a moment, before abruptly recalling it was a gift from Mr. Quille from when he had gone over to talk about Ryan’s atrocious behaviour. ‘No hard feelings,’ as the man himself had put it. It was a sleek, leather-bound volume that seemed to be coated in some sort of reflective black material. He had never seen a book so… shiny before. Hell, it was probably brighter than his car parked alongside the sidewalk. Curious, he picked it up and was taken aback by how heavy it was. It felt nice though, as he weighed it in his palms, smooth and luxurious. He searched the cover for the title but could only make out the embossed shape of a ghost, the kind of shapeless blob malls usually sold during this time of year as a decoration. It looked amateurish compared to the rest of the item but somehow he couldn’t help but feel drawn by it.

He caught himself staring into the circles which represented the eyes for a bit too long before he realised he was sitting ramrod straight and the hairs on his arms were standing on end. He chuckled nervously to himself as he looked around the room but he was alone, naturally. A book of ghost stories it seemed, he used to devour these as a kid. Maybe Mr. Quille had thought Ryan would enjoy reading through them, though why he would think that, Gary couldn’t say. He cracked it open to reveal brand new, bone-white pages. He paused, up till now he had assumed that it had been an old possession of Mr. Quille’s, maybe some relic from his childhood. Yet, everything seemed to be pointing to the contrary. With his curiosity mounting, he settled down for a good read. He turned and plumped up the cushions, figuring he’d flip through a story or two. He flicked the pages at random, as images, clearer and more vibrant than he had ever envisioned began to form in his mind…

Blood Ties

The package on the doorstep was soft and shapeless but Saul still couldn’t help but feel threatened by it. It didn’t make any sense, the amount of anxiety he felt towards this inanimate object. No label, no card. Just plain, waxy, brown paper. He didn’t know why he felt so worried, it was probably a gift from a friend, or perhaps some long-lost family member?

He pondered still, for a few minutes more, wondering why he was wondering so much about it, before finally gritting his teeth and ripping open the wrapping. He stared at the contents for a moment before bursting out in laughter at his own foolishness. The package he had been so worried about simply contained some pieces of what looked to be a formal suit. A… very expensive one at that. The strange, unsettling feeling crept in again. He shook his head, he wondered what his forefathers would have thought of him, losing his mind over clothing of all things. Saul did his best to maintain his composure as he unfolded it, holding it up against his own body. Whoever sent this package definitely seemed to know him. If he didn’t know any better he’d have said it was tailor-made for him but that was a ridiculous idea, wasn’t it?

He tried the shirt on first, marvelling at the smooth, buttery feel of the fabric. He relished the effortless way his knuckles slid along the length of the sleeve, so flawless was the craftsmanship. If it didn’t feel so good to wear it, he might have been more creeped out by how well it wrapped around him, how nicely it sat on his chest and shoulders. He struck a pose in front of the mirror, smiling in spite of himself. Did he look paler than usual? Maybe he hadn’t been getting enough sun lately. He shuddered at the thought.

The rest of the suit was just as exquisite, if not more. With each new article of clothing, Saul could feel his incredulity and enjoyment growing in equal parts. Whatever suspicions he had had evaporated as he savoured the act of dressing himself. He felt, no, he knew he was irresistible in all this finery. Dressed like this, he’d be able to charm the pants off of anyone, everyone. He stopped to take a look at himself in the mirror again, taking a moment to fish his heavy pocket watch out of the vest. He smiled to himself as he checked his timing, he still had it… though what exactly he still had he couldn’t remember for the life of him. He didn’t know why such a thought had popped into his head, unbidden. He looked good no doubt but for the barest moment, he thought he had seen his face turn mean, the shadow of a split-second sneer. What was scarier was how he could feel some part of him was wishing for it to come back. He stared intently at his reflection in a mix of fear and reverence, almost daring it to act before him. It was only when he felt his gaze begin to blur until he could barely see anything anymore that he blinked himself back to reality.

At last, came the tie. He picked it up and let it flow across his open palm, admiring the red and gold fabric. It felt so small in his beefy hands. He hadn’t realised before today how built up he was but now he relished it, rolling his haunches as he appreciated his own width. Apparently sometimes a perfectly tailored suit helped you to appreciate yourself better, who could have guessed? He certainly knew he’d never be able to wear anything else after today, the material fit him as snugly as a second skin, made him feel powerful, in control. He wrapped it around his neck, letting it hang loosely over his frame. Bringing his hands up, he knotted it in one swift, practiced motion. So mesmerised was he with his own appearance, he barely even registered that his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord, tightening the knot until it felt like it was biting into his soft exposed neck. His eyelids drooped down, and then, darkness.

Saul laid on the floor for a few moments, blinking. He sat up and gave himself a once over, then did so a second time but he knew he’d be alright, he was himself now. He stood and looked at the mirror, smirking as he did so. No reflection, but he’d expected as much. He rolled his shoulders, and once again, ran his hands along the fabric, feeling his clothes, feeling himself. He ran his newly claimed tongue over his teeth, noting that they still retained the familial sharpness.

It had been a long time since he had last fed. People generally didn’t respond well to his kind. He couldn’t blame them for driving him out of town and threatening to burn his estate. But that didn’t matter now. He had done what was necessary to survive. Anyone who might have known him was long dead by now and people in general had long forgotten that creatures like him even existed. The paperwork would arrive soon enough, for the great-grandson who shared his name. In time, he would return to his rightful home and resume his old life there. Until then, Saul Senior had a terrible thirst to quench…

~~~~

Gary looked up from the book, a little stunned. He thought Mr. Quille had said that it was for Ryan as much as him, that ‘your son could learn a lot from it’. This certainly wasn’t a book he could describe as being educational to anyone, not with the contents thus far. He couldn’t deny he had enjoyed himself though. As creepy as the tale was, it had fired his imagination, filled his mind with vivid scenes in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. He looked at the words on the page, secretly replaying the pictures in his head, again, and again, and again. He turned the page and kept reading…

Halloween Spirit

“I told you already Cole, I’ll take you trick or treating later-”

“But Dad, it’s 5pm already! The streetlights are coming on and all the pumpkins have been lit…”

“Cole Alphonsus Daniels, for the last time, we’ll go out, when I say we go out. Is that clear?”

“...yes sir.”

“Good. Now find some way to entertain yourself while I finish work. After that we’ll hit the streets.”

Cole scowled as his father ruffled his hair. He ducked to avoid any further displays of affection and found his way to the front yard to sit on the porch. Holding his head in his hands, he stared glumly as people had begun to fill the streets. He longed to join but here he was, confined to waiting for his dad.

His gaze wandered, looking for something, anything, interesting to look at and found himself staring dead ahead at the pumpkin sitting on the fence. There was something weird about it, other than the way it seemed to be evenly matching his gaze. Then it hit him, the pumpkin was unlit. Cole frowned, he thought he had made sure to get all of them earlier. He got up to light it, grabbing the candle from the lantern nearest to him.

“Guess you’re missing out too huh, little guy?” He said as he waited for the wick to catch flame. He smiled as the pumpkin flickered to life.

“Well that’s you taken care of. Now if only my dad could hurry up and get out here.” The pumpkin flickered again. If Cole didn’t know better, he would have said it was winking at him.

---

Gil Daniels tapped away at his keyboard, muttering to himself. He moved to open another document, glancing at the clock as he did so. Another hour before he planned to leave the house, plenty of time. He rubbed at his temples to try to alleviate some of his headache. Damn, he was getting old, if not in body, then in spirit. He picked up his mug and took a sip of coffee, leaning back in his chair as he did so. He licked his lips. The coffee sure tasted good today. Did Lauren do something special to it? He took another sip. Kind of like a pumpkin spice latte. Usually he hated those but this one tasted fresher somehow, more authentic. He closed his eyes and drank deeply, downing it in one go. He felt a warm glow permeate through his body, washing through every fibre of his being. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and smiled.

---

“Ready to go sport?”

Cole jumped, nearly dropping the candle he was still holding. His father was standing in the doorway, beaming away, arms akimbo.

“Ye-yeah! Let me put this candle back.” He turned to the pumpkin he had just been talking to. “Did you do this?” The pumpkin stared merrily back at him but the flame held steady. “Well, if you did, thanks.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking to but I’m over here kiddo!” His father laughed as he spoke, a loud, hearty, chuckle. He took the candle from Cole as he approached and set it back in the original pumpkin. He turned to Cole, with mischief in his eyes.

“Race you to the next house.” Cole watched with wonder as his dad set off on a brisk jog. He giggled and dashed ahead of him, heading straight for the neighbour’s door, and rang the doorbell thrice for good measure.

“Beat you dad!” Cole laughed as his father saluted his victory.

“What’s all this then?” Cole turned to the source of the harsh new voice and his smile wilted. He had forgotten about the cranky old man who lived here. He opened his mouth to say something but words failed him. He felt a reassuring hand clapped onto his shoulder and turned to see his dad.

“Pardon my son’s enthusiasm, we’re trick or treating for Halloween. Surely you understand?” He said, reaching his hand out. Cole watched as the old man initially jerked backwards, ready to slam the door shut but the instant his dad grabbed onto him, he stopped. The old man closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them with a wide smile.

“Of course, of course, wait here, I’ll be only a moment.” The old man winked at Cole and walked back into the house, ostensibly to fetch some candy. Cole smiled warily back at him. Once he was out of earshot, Cole turned to his father.

“That was… kind of weird.”

His father shrugged good-naturedly.

“Seems the holiday spirit is particularly infectious today.” He said with a grin.

~~~~

Gary felt his head snap up as he finished the last word. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading for but it suddenly felt like it must have been hours. He looked at the TV to check the clock but was greeted by a black screen. When had he switched it off? He turned to his watch, still early in the afternoon, as evidenced by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about the time, it wasn’t as if he was going to go anywhere, he needed to take care of Ryan at home. Mr. Quille had told him as much. ‘A boy needs his father.’ He found himself nodding along in agreement, before realising how silly he must have looked to anyone watching. Thankfully Ryan was still in his room. Besides, he was really getting into a reading groove now, he looked back down as he turned the page, eager for the next story…

Bared Souls

Bernard was running. He wished that he knew where he was moving to but he knew that didn’t matter as much as staying on the move. He’d gone too deep into the forest this time and now there was a bear chasing after him. He knew his chances weren’t good but what choice did he have? He threw cautionary glances behind him every now and then, hoping the beast would get bored and wander off but he couldn’t be sure, so he kept running.

As his lungs began to scream for oxygen and his legs threatened to give out, he slowed down and thrust his hand against a thick tree trunk for support. He tried to steady his breathing, not quite willing to look around just yet. Either he had lost the bear, or he’d be overtaken in seconds due to exhaustion. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope it was the former. After a few minutes of not being mauled to death, he allowed himself a cautious look around. No bear, thank goodness. But… no signs of civilisation either. He frowned.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire eh old boy?” He whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. He sat down and pulled his compass and map out, trying to get a sense of where he could go from here. Unfortunately he couldn’t see any landmarks near his position. He tried to stand up but sat back down almost immediately, his head spinning. He knew he’d probably find his way out with enough time but it suddenly occurred to him that he was very, very, very tired. He leaned against the tree trunk, figuring he’d rest his eyes for just a few minutes. Just a few minutes, that’s all…

---

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was how much darker it was. Cursing his own foolishness, he stood up, alert, and angry with himself. Grumbling, he pulled out his compass and map again, squinting as best as he could in the fading light. Then he heard a growl. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. The growl came again, louder this time. He swung around, cursing under his breath, trying to locate the source of the noise. With the third and loudest growl yet, he bolted off in the opposite direction, fleeing for his life.

He ran until he once again could not run anymore. He looked around even as he panted for breath. More trees, still no sign of where he could be. With the sunlight rapidly fading, it was looking like he’d have to spend the night in the woods. How could he have been so ill-prepared? He’d be lucky not to freeze to death. That was, if the bears didn’t find him first. He walked with one hand outstretched, as the woods grew darker still. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to find, if anything. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Then the growling started again. Bernard grit his teeth, trying not to scream out in frustration and despair. This time he didn’t even have the slightest idea where it had come from. It was as if it had sounded all around, or maybe even from inside him. Insanity had come for him it seemed. He tilted his head, straining his ears, begging them to help him pick out which direction the bear was. He could scarcely trust his own senses as the growling began to fade away. Bernard breathed easily for a few moments. He turned his head to the front, only to find himself face to face with the bear.

He yelped out in fright, before he even realised he should not have been able to see anything in the darkness, let alone the bear. The bear did not blend in against the dark woods. Instead it glowed, brightly at that. Tendrils of light radiated off of its body and dissipated lazily into the air. The bear licked its nose, apparently entirely unbothered by Bernard or his palpable fear. It stepped closer and Bernard realised it made no noise as it moved. Even though he knew it made no sense, he could see through the bear. He could see the leaves it stepped on remain as scattered and unflattened as they were before.

The bear tilted its head and yawned at him, before pawing the ground and walking past him. Bernard didn’t realise he was holding his breath until the bear turned to look at him. Incredulous, he watched as the bear gestured with its head, twice. Follow me, it seemed to be saying. He stepped forward cautiously, shivering as he did so. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he couldn’t say. He stepped forward again, closer and closer, until he was directly alongside the bear.

And then the bear stepped into him.

Bernard stood stock still, certain he was going mad and seeing things. Yet, he could feel the bear as it continued to align itself against his flesh. Against all logic, he felt obliged to get on all fours so the bear could do so more comfortably. As the bear filled him, he felt a sense of extraordinary calm. His face twitched as he felt his senses heighten. New smells, new sounds, a completely different way of experiencing the world. He crawled forward, expecting to feel foolish, only to realise how natural his movements felt.

He broke into a running gait, as if he had known how to do so his entire life. His heart beat a steady thrum in his chest as he navigated the woods. It was all so simple, so obvious. How had he not realised it before? He headed easily through the winding roads, following the smells and clues towards where he knew humans would be. He ran for what must have been hours but not once did he grow tired. He felt alive, more than he had ever known throughout his years of existence. No need for fear, no sense of urgency, just purity of movement towards the goal that was emblazoned in his mind.

He came to the edge of the woods as the solid darkness began to give way to a pale blue. Not that he had needed the light to make his way through the night. He arched his back and felt himself stand up straight. At the same time he felt as if something was slipping out of him. His senses dulled rapidly back to normalcy but now it was jarring and unfamiliar. He turned back to see the same radiant bear again. He looked towards the road, the one that would take him back to civilisation. After the night he had had, it would be nice to return back home to a warm shower and bed. Even as he thought of his modern comforts, he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing, that he’d remain forever incomplete if he walked out of these woods as he was now.

He turned to look at the bear again. This time, it was he who gestured with his head. Twice. The bear looked as impassive as ever and he worried for a moment that it would turn back into the woods. Then it stepped forward, until it was alongside him. This time, it was Bernard who stepped willingly into the waiting spirit, for now he knew what it was. Their bodies aligned once more, the two took a few tentative steps, before throwing their head back and roaring as one.

~~~~

Gary sat with the book open in his lap. He stared blankly at the ceiling as his lips parted ever so slightly. The book rose into the air but Gary made no sign that he was aware of it, or anything at all for that matter. The pages began to flip rapidly but even as they flapped in his face, they remained neat, uncreased, orderly. As they approached the ends of the book, the pages picked up speed until it snapped shut. Whatever enchantment it was under seemed to come to an end as the book began to fall to the ground, only to be caught by a thick, deft hand. Gary blinked, and smiled as he looked over the book once again. Gone was any design that might have been tattooed on it. The front and back were now identical smooth dark faces. He smiled to see his own name now written in bold gold lettering down the length of the spine. He popped the book open, to the page he knew the dedications would be written on.

“To my neighbour, Gary, whose door is always open to me.”

Chuckling, he closed the book just as Ryan came out of the room.

“Hey Ryan.”

“Wha-uh, yeah dad?”

“Want to go trick or treating?”

“Uhhhhh, I thought I was grounded.”

“You still are mister but I can make an exception as long as you’re with me.”

Ryan looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes but the chance to get out of the house was too golden to pass up.

“...Ok, let me get changed.” Ryan said, before bounding back into his room, clearly eager to leave.

Gary smiled. He got up and stretched out his arms, flexing his fingers as he looked at them admiringly. He called out to Ryan.

“Let’s visit Mr. Quille next door first. I-uh, I mean he will be more than happy to see us, I should think.”

#daddy bear #bear #beard #suit #male possession #halloween #dad #father #object possession #clothes possession #vampire #jack-o-lantern #werebear #long story #frame story

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blackvelvetwriteson · 4 years

Note

Hi, could I get a one shot fem! black reader x Kakashi, please? (can be nsfw or fluff, it's your choice)

Hey there! Thank you for the request 🥺🥺 I had a bit of a roadblock with this one simply because I couldn’t think of a prompt, BUT I eventually thought ‘why not write about the holidays’ so I got into a groove with it! Once I got into it, it was a really fun write! I hope that this is what you expected and/or lives up to your expectations!

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒

( ~ Kakashi Hatake x Black Female Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Fluffy Fluff!

FANDOM: Naruto Shippuden

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There really are none for today, it’s pretty fluffy for today!

SUMMARY: Reader-Chan wants to celebrate the holiday season this year because she never got to, but she doesn’t necessarily know how to approach Kakashi about it since he never celebrates the holidays (or ever even heard of them for that matter.

WORD COUNT: 4303

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

For some reason, you were in an incredibly festive mood this time around. Maybe it was something about how the gilded sunlight made yours and Kakashi’s home feel more… Well, home-y. Maybe it was the remnants of your food that you’d made earlier for your lunch still lingering around the house, or the kids of the village running around outside of your windows, whether subliminally training or not undeterminable, reminding you of your youth. Time had gone by so fast, and already you’d been in Japan for about two years and a half. You already knew that, in general, the people of the area didn’t celebrate Halloween, and actually it was a week AFTER Halloween would’ve taken place in America, but something about today… Something about today made your festive bone quiver and you decided to do SOMETHING to celebrate.

Since you’d picked up on the shinobi not celebrating American holidays like you were used to, you avoided asking Kakashi about it. Come to think of it, he never really did anything you were accustomed to besides the staring thing; and when you got together he tried to give you food related nicknames. You had to sit down and explain to him why it wasn’t okay and why it made you uncomfortable and then he thoroughly apologized and left it at that. He didn’t really have any nicknames for you, and from research you found that most women in Japan (and men) only go by their given names with -chan/san at the end which was cute, but if everyone had to call you that then it’d lose meaning and it wouldn’t be as cute.

Even still, though, you decided that today would be the day that you participated in the festivities of the holiday season that, in America, would be fast approaching. The only question for you was who you were going to dress up as and suddenly a thought formed in your head as you popped up from the couch and scurried to your guys’s room. You’d dress up as your hero, your boyfriend Hatake Kakashi! He wouldn’t expect it, you’d be able to see how everything fits, AND it’d be cute- at least you thought- and it’d give you something to do so that the crisp, perfect day didn’t go to waste.

You sifted through the closet with eager eyes as you hummed softly, some of your curls coming loose and falling down by your face, your dark brown beautiful eyes twinkling as you pulled out the parts to the outfit he wore from day to day, your eyebrows knitting a little as one corner of your lip lifted a little. “This man, so help me black Jesus,” you whisper softly noticing how much heftier your wardrobe was than his. He had the same outfit to go over about 5 or 5 times, black sweatpants, black shorts, and 3 different headbands all crushed, neatly, together on one side of the closet while your clothing took up the other half. You shook your head and closed the door with your hip once you were sure you had everything you needed for your little plan. You looked it over excitedly, your slender auburn fingers contrasting almost perfectly against the colors of his uniform. “Damn… I never noticed that till now,” you laugh softly as you remove your shirt and start to pull on articles of the outfit, trying to mimic exactly how you saw Kakashi wear his so you didn’t accidentally disrespect him. Of course he only had 2 masks and a shirt with a mask that you’d sewn onto it, and you decided not to mess with any of it. You didn’t want to hide your face at all whatsoever, especially behind masks that might’ve well have been your boyfriend’s comfort items. You had pretty much everything on, the worn out navy blue bringing everything together, the green brightening your pretty almost black eyes. You giggle softly as you look in the mirror and decide to do something with your hair before it dried completely- you’d taken a shower only 30 minutes prior and your hair was a little damp. You scurry off to the bathroom with the bandage and garter in one hand, your yellow hair pik in the other. You looked extremely excited, for once taking a moment to completely love and indulge in yourself. Being in an area where your existence was offensive to others to suddenly going to a place where absolutely nobody looked even close to you was an extreme shift, but Kakashi made it okay, literally brawling with anybody that so much as looked at you the wrong way. You had a small bit of tummy, but he loved that about you; and it’s not like it slowed you down any, made you unreliable, or made you any less attractive than you were. In fact, to some people it wasn’t even really noticeable unless you were wearing certain things. You also had to drop the American style and adopt the Japanese locale and honestly, while that was a HUGE shift, Kakashi helped with that too. Sometimes you’d get yourself in trouble with how you spoke though; that American lingo that’d been generationally passed down to you finding its way showing up and showing out, especially when someone wanted to make fun of your hair, or your physique and compare you to the other local girls, most noticeably Ten-Ten, Lady Tsunade, Sakura, and Hinata. They argued that the more pale girls were more attractive; because you could play in their hair and you wouldn’t have to worry about one slowing you down- at which remarks you stuck the shit talkers to a tree with your kunai for hours after you thoroughly cussed them out and ribbed them a little, telling Kakashi what’d happened so he could go cut them down. On the flip side, the kids absolutely adored you and loved when you were out so they could play tag or ask you unnecessary questions or get some treats from you.

You quick-washed your hair in the sink and started to blow-dry it deciding that you’d give yourself an at home blowout so that you could complete the look. Being the multitasker you were born into being, you found something to prop the blowdryer up while you piked your hair out quickly, smiling as you watched your hair fluff up, watching your coils straighten and then get bigger until it couldn’t anymore. Then it hit you; Kakashi hadn’t seen your hair blown out except once and that was while you were braiding it back and his eyes were fixated on your fingers as he wondered how a person could do that. At this point, your hair was halfway done, and while you let the tool dry your hair even more, you attempted to wrap the bandage around your thigh and it only BARELY made it, your thigh utterly choked in the process. You looked down at your leg and then pensively looked at the garter and decided that wouldn’t fit around your leg and you let out a frustrated sigh. “That man, is fine as fuck, but why he built like a bean pole,” you huff quietly as you let the bandage loose from trapping your thigh before your mind wandered to him. “…. Aight so maybe he got a LITTLE bit of muscle, but we aint talkin’ about that right now,” you laugh softly before looking at your phone seeing that he sent you a text signifying that he was on his way back from training for the day and that he was fine. You smiled cheerily at your text and tilted your head some at yourself, using your pik to fluff your hair out more before you scurried back to your guys’s room and snatched one of his spare headbands up, securing it quickly and tactfully. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hands coming up and sliding into the arm holes of his navy green vest. You turned to one side, then to the next, then finally you looked at yourself from a front profile and your eyes glistened a little. “You’re… so heroic,” you mumbled under your breath before you heard some clatter coming from outside of the room.

“Oh right… You can do that,” you say as you open the door and watch him freeze completely in his spot, his eyes slowly raking over you from head to toe then back up again, his stoic expression unchanging from what you could tell. “H-Heyy… Honey,” you smile nervously as you wave with one of your gloved hands. He walked towards you and slipped one side of the headband over one of your eyes and then he stifled a soft grunt under his breath.

“It’s Kakashi. We’ve talked about this,” he said softly before he looked over his shoulders, his hands sliding in his pockets again as his back straightened out some. “….Why are you wearing my clothes,” he asked with a slight edge to his voice, meanwhile you were still frozen in place, your legs starting to quiver some. You didn’t know why he was being so cold to you and it made you just a little insecure. “Particularly… Those,” he said as he stared at the wall below the TV you both had, his legs crossed as he leaned back into the couch.

“Damn so you not gonna say ‘hi.’ Or ‘I missed you,’ or nothin’ like that hm? Well… My bad, I guess I’ll just go take it off,” you say softly, the spirit of the day becoming crushed. He mused softly and his head only tilted a small bit. He didn’t even look at you and you noticed this. The whole time you were here… The whole time you were together the only thing you wanted was his eyes on you and his praises. You were struggling and it was on you for the most part because you hadn’t reached out to him for help. He was a real big one for “say what you mean or need,” or something like that. You LOVED the idea behind the last stretch of the year; the days designated for giving thanks, hanging out with the ones you love, amazing food, and gifts, and movies, and music. All of it… But having come from where you had, you never really had good times or a good chance to make memories. Now that you were old enough to have someone of your own and actually be able to create memories, you wanted to… But instead you’d been trying to force it out of your life to make your man happy, however you weren’t having it anymore. You just didn’t know how to bring it up.

“Mm.. What’s-“

Before he could even finish speaking, you’d vanished back into your guys’s room and shut the door behind you. He sat back in the seat and he let out a low drawn out breath and then stood up. Within one second he vanished from the living room and appeared right in front of you with his arms crossed.

“I asked why you were wearing my clothes, not that you had to take them off,” he said as he looked blandly at your hurt expression. “And I was trying to ask what was up with you,” he said as he reached one hand out and gently tipped your head up, his free hand reaching for where your bangs covered your eye but then he stopped as he usually did and he tilted his head some. “May I?” He spoke from behind his mask. You push his hand out of the way and move your hair out of your face by yourself, your sharp eyes peering into his. This time his eyebrows rose a bit more noticeably and usual and he waited for you to talk so he could listen, his hands now in his pockets.

“Yknow… I’ve tried to work what is normal to me out of my system… And when I was younger, that would’ve been… Easier. But now, it’s not… Kakashi, when you don’t look at me it makes me feel undesirable… Because nobody else looks at me unless they’re making fun of how flat and wide my features are… or how damn burnt I look even though this is my natural skin tone! I just… Want you to call me your baby once in awhile damnit! I want to call you *mine* and not just… Ka-ka-shi. Everybody calls you that… And… I get jealous when I see the other people hanging out with you, the cooler people with the sharingan variants, or the cool eyes and the people with the slim builds, or the people with the advanced shinobi skills that are greater than mi-“ You hadn’t noticed that while you were talking, Kakashi pulled his mask down, then you were interrupted with a kiss. It was a soft, but soulful kiss; the kind where one of his gloved hands had you by the chin and the other by the back of your head. The kind where you could feel his body heat completely wrapping you up. The kind where you felt his trembling breath break his completely calm composure. Your hands were gently pressed against the back of his arms, one of your hands at his elbow as he pulled away and allowed his eyes to slowly open. His shadow was cast down onto you and you saw his eyes squint a little, his smile hidden by the mask he’d pulled back up after the kiss. On the other hand, your eyes were wide and your lips were barely parted, your eyes glistening as you looked over his mostly hidden smile. Your knees buckled under you and he helped make sure you didn’t fall, his chest pressed against yours.

“You done?” He asked as he helped you stand upright again. You were dazed just staring at your man and he smirked a little as he pulled his mask down again still standing close to you. “I see… You want everyone to know that you’re mine and vice versa? That’s it? That’s why you’re wearing my clothes today…? You want me to… Call you mine? Right?” He spoke quietly, he was ONLY talking to you, his deep voice getting a little more hoarse as he continued to drone on, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him, his intense gaze still cast into your eyes. You swallow hard and nibble the inside of your cheek. “You want you to call you my baby? My beautiful, perfect baby girl? Hm? Is that why you’re acting out? Or… You want me to show you that I care more, right? Maybe… You want me to make dinner once? Or bring you flowers? Or watch you train? Or… Cheer you on? Right? Perhaps tease you a little… Or hold you this close all the time?”

You nod slowly and then look away already knowing what this was sort of leading up to but his slender fingers forced your gaze back on him.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, baby,” he said softly as he tilted his head a little. “If you wanted that… Why didn’t you just say so? I can’t read minds… And I’m still relatively new to this whole… Romance scene,” he said softly as he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. “You know this. I’m a little… Dense? I’m not sure if that’s the proper word. But…. You’re just… Ugh… I didn’t know that me hanging around people made you jealous- perhaps it’s in my best interest to just tell you how much you mean to me all of the time. You’d want that too, right? I know you would,” he said softly as his fingers gently trailed up your back. “Or… Maybe you want to have a little bit more sex? Is that apart of it?” The question made your eyes wide, skin burn with an invisible blush, and your jaw drop a little. He let out a hollow laugh in turn, gently pushing your jaw up to close your mouth with the tips of his fingers. “Baby steps. I got it. For now, let me just say this: You’re beautiful… All of your scars, curves, marks and all. Those coffee colored eyes of yours are so much more… Stupefying than any sharingan I have seen and will ever see…. The little spark they get when you’re determined, or that soft glisten when you get embarrassed,” he said as he looked over your whole face. “Your body… Your whole body… Is amazing… You don’t have to be slim to be an amazing shinobi; and so help me, my beautiful queen,” he says softly as he leans down so he’s eye level with you. “If you ever discredit yourself like that again, I’ll work you out so that you’re not able to move for the next week. You’re right on the fast track to be a fine shinobi- possibly even the greatest at that. Well… Not greater than me, but that’s another story and another conversation,” he said quietly as you were pushed back onto your bed while he stood over you. “Are those idiots getting into your head again?” His eyebrows furrowed a little as his hands slipped back into his pockets.

Finally you were able to find your words again and you crossed your legs out of habit. “Y-Yeah… For… Like… The past 3 weeks they’ve been telling me that I’m too slow… Or I’m too… Wide… Or making fun of me and my eyes, or making fun of how dark I am… Or making fun of my hair! My damn hair! It hurts… A lot… And we’re together, but I don’t want to be known as that abnormal girl that calls on her boyfriend every time she needs saving. I got it… Aight? I can handle that… But… That’s why I need YOUR praises…. To validate me I guess… I already know I’m THAT… girl… But I want to hear it from you… I want you,” you mumbled softly. “And the reason I’m dressed up like this is because I’m dressed up for Halloween- In America it’s a day where people dress up and do their makeup and hair and have fun at parties or go trick or treating to get candy and stuff! I’ve always loved it despite not being able to… Participate much,” you say softly as you rub your arm. “I dunno, I guess I just wanted to celebrate the holiday season this year- even if we never do it again, I at least want one memory of a great holiday season with mine… With you,” you say softly. He listens to everything you say with an opaque grin on his face.

“If that’s what you wanted, then why didn’t you just say that?” He said softly as he climbed over you, his hips barely resting in your lap as your heart skipped a beat. He pushed you to lay down on the bed and his hands rested right by your head, your eyes peering up at him with a soft grin rested on your face.

“I-I d-didn’t w-want to get told no… I d-didn’t want to… Bother you with something that seemed so insignificant… I didn’t want you to think of me as weak,” you say softly as he gently kisses your neck. You shuddered a little and bit your lip as you tilt your head up some.

“Well now’s your hot seat,” he huffed quietly against your neck. “Tell me what you want, tell me everything you want, and I’ll do it until you tell me that you don’t want it anymore,” he said as he looked back into your eyes, your hands rested against his chest as you thought for a moment before speaking again. “W-Well… I want you to call me your baby and vice versa… Or come up with a nickname or something… I want you to watch me train and root for me, I want you to let everyone know who I belong to, but allow me to show who you belong to, too… I want you to tease me and hold me close… Everywhere… I want you to go on dates with me and do holiday stuff with me… I want you to make me feel wanted and loved… I just fucking want *you* Kakashi…” you say softly as you look up at him. Upon gazing, you notice that his expression had soften significantly, and the hold he had on you was more protective than ever. “A-And I guess more s-sex would be cool,” you say softly and he chuckles quietly in return. You reach one of your hands up and gently cup his face, your thumb gently caressing his cheek. “You know… You should smile more… You’re quite handsome when you do… Well I mean you’re fine as hell either way, but I like it when you smile… And laugh like that…” you say softly as he leans his head into your hand a little more. He kisses your clothed palm and smiles just for you and suddenly you took on a breathless expression, your eyes halfway open as he blushed a little and you just took this moment to adore him, everything about him. “That’s what you want from me? Okay,” he said softly before moving to pin your hand weakly to the bed above you, his eyes both gazing into yours- well as much as he could anyway seeing as your hair practically swallowed your face leaving your bottom half of your face exposed for him. You could see him just fine, he just couldn’t see you… And for the moment that was fine. His gentle lips pressed against yours from above and your eyes fluttered shut as usual when this happened. You felt a little touch starved because he didn’t like contact very much, but he was warming up to it a little more. You wrapped one of your arms around his waist and pulled him closer, and then the two of you melted into each other on the bed in a fit of grunts, deep, passionate, soft kisses, dulcet giggles coming from the both of you, his hand wandering up your waist up the natural curve of your body as yours tried to find where his clothing allowed you access to his skin. You found it, your warm fingers contrasting against his lukewarm skin. He jolted a little and let out a groan before looking at you again, nibbling your lip gently before he pulled away. “You’re amazing,” he whispered quietly and breathlessly against your lips as you tried to control your breathing again.

“Says one of the most notable and historic ninja warriors of all time,” you say with a soft chuckle, moving your hair out of your face so you could look at him and so he could look at you.

“You know… Paths like that carry plenty of… Skeletons in the closet, right?” He said softly as his gaze intensified only a little bit.

“Yeah, and? You still made it… Everyone looks up to you… You’ve killed people and seen plenty of your own killed… And people that couldn’t handle it… Y’know… But, Kakashi Hatake,” you say softly as you turn his head back towards you and your own expression hardens a little. “No matter what, I’ll still love you like the day that I met you… Just like that day you first came to protect.. Well the other person- after they were bullying me… After you checked to make sure I was okay… Baby I love you, and as long as you love me too, I’m gonna be on your side. I’m your woman- I’m your queen, right? A queen needs her partner in royalty, and this house is our kingdom. You’re my king, and unapologetically mine… And I’m the same for you,” you say quietly as you sit up and smile a little. “I know you haven’t been sleeping, Kashi,” you say softly as you gently kiss his lips. “I’m not a super heavy sleeper… You’re safe now, though,” you say softly as you run your fingers through his hair. “Let me go make dinner tonight and… C-Can I decorate?” You whispered softly, expecting a no as you turned and gently pushed him to make him lay on the bed and he chuckled softly, gently grabbing your hand.

“If decorations are what you want, then I don’t have a problem with it,” he said softly, kissing the back of your hand gently. Your skin burned with an invisible flush and you pulled the covers up on him, trying to make the room just a little more homey so that he could sleep better.

“I… Wow… Um… Okay,” you say softly, lighting a candle and setting it on the nightstand, standing in the doorway. “I d-don’t know if I said this already, but I’m gonna make a hot pot for dinner… And I’ll go see if there are any pumpkins in the area… I’ll make us some pumpkin bread and make some cookies for the kids,” you say with a beaming smile, looking at your sleepy man who was already cuddling a pillow on his way to sleep. He admired your soothing voice, able to relax for the first time in a long time, and how the golden sun gave you a gilded glow that made your skin twinkle and your eyes illuminate the room. He had never felt so lucky to have someone as good as you to him, and that was the last thing he saw- or thought- before he slipped off into dreamland and you disappeared behind the door to excitedly start dinner.

#black velvet x naruto #requested writes #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake fluff #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi x black reader #kakashi x black female reader #kakashi hatake x female reader #black velvet asks #jenesis answers

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themilky-way · 4 years

Text

in the night

gif credit: pedropcl

pairing: javier peña x fem! reader

summary: when you’re asked to partake in a dangerous task, you form a sudden and unexpected bond.

warnings: mentions of the mob and alcohol, a very vague implication of a gun

author’s note: this man lives in my mind rent free good-fuckin-night

----------

life in columbia sure as hell wasn’t easy, but being a dea agent working against the downfall of the world’s most powerful criminal took the proverbial cake. your mission had seemed fairly easy: travel to bogotá and help the columbian authorities catch escobar. except, the ambassador didn’t mention any sort of infiltration, one that had to be done by none other than you.

there was no fighting it. the job carried many (dangerous) responsibilities, and someone had to fulfill them. to help, steve had reached out to carillo and asked him to substitute one of his own men, which, in a way, wasn’t any better because someone’s life was still at risk, but it was denied. connie made the wait for you as easy as she could by sending you dinner with peña a few nights a week, and although you loved that woman like your own blood, she couldn’t make a bowl of rice even if her life depended on it.

by being a helpful friend though, connie had unintentionally brought her husband’s partner closer with you. you knew of him and how he worked, an unavoidable aspect if you operated where he did, but your role slightly differed from his. the week you had been assigned for undercover was spent in the privacy of your apartment, ensuring important documents were locked up, sorting a couple of suitcases as if this was a leisurely trip instead of a guaranteed death sentence. the following week wasn’t any less hectic, but it was the first time connie sent out a personal order to you. her chosen delivery man? yeah, you guessed it.

it became a regular occurrence after that. the days leading up to your departure began consisting of javier residing in your home for hours at a time. there were moments where he showed up at your door without a small bag of food, claiming steve was in charge of dinner that night and how he’d never forgive himself if he let you take a bite of it. you noticed how on some nights, he’d linger for just a few more minutes than he should’ve by washing spare dishes or going over routes crucial to the cartels. he didn’t need to do any of that, but the difference here was that he wanted to.

“so,” steve started off one morning, “you and peña- you guys a thing?” he ended it with a small smirk perfectly hidden by the bottom of his coffee mug. indeed, an unprofessional topic for an unprofessional man.

“to my knowledge, he’s just being a friend and a very bad delivery person,” had been your answer at the time, never once looking up from the jumble of words constituting your report. nothing else mattered as much as your security on that mission; you truly didn’t have the time to delve into emotional matters and invest any thought into silly questions like this. “he keeps me company, that’s all.”

perhaps you were lying to yourself about this whole thing, afraid of what might happen if you allowed emotion to regulate the demanding life you led. a vase of lively flowers would replace the holster on your coffee table. scattered papers and pens and pictures would find a home in neat sections of a drawer rather than the floor. a few photographs might even color the opaque walls. these were trivial aspects of your life, and the aspirations to contrive them hardly appeared in your mind, but now? well, now they were everywhere.

during the third week, javier didn’t even need steve’s wife to deliver anything. excuses to knock on the hard wooden door of the complex were compiled up in his brain, and they were eloquently spilled in order to pass its threshold. “you see these papers? yeah, we need to go over them,” he’d say all rushed and hurried, holding up a stack of articles with sloppy handwriting. the thoughts-hopes-from before would start then, and they’d take up every ounce of your reasoning as if nothing else mattered. from that point forward, javier’s attention was yours, and your’s his. watches’ were discarded and left on a random end of a couch, the sounds of the clock drowned out by the now casual chatter instead of a business delegation. nights of the exact nature transcurred one after another, with the agent leaving closer to dawn no matter his imploration to keep you company. “call me if you need anything, alright?”

ultimately, everything had led you to the couch your legs were crossed upon, javier sitting in the space between it and the small, rectangular coffee table. one leg lay calmly folded on the pearl-tinted carpet while the other was bent, an elbow resting sturdily on top of his knee. a blanket covered the bottom half of your sitting form with a few of its edges tickling the man’s arms, but it seemed he didn’t mind the feeling. you’d offered him one, and upon his negation, you’d offered him to share yours, which earned you a cocky remark. tonight, he didn’t bring any documents or transcripts to revise, only what he insisted to be the best take-out meal in town. additionally, being the friend he was, he gifted you a bottle of whiskey that was to be celebrated with, except he was on his third refill, and you weren’t even finished with the first.

“unless you wanna sleep here tonight, i suggest you slow it down,” a small joke as you leaned over to place the glass down. you assumed he’d laugh as he did with all your past banters, but was met with nothing but the sound of his ice rocking against his cup. naturally, you turned to face him as you reached back, catching a delicate smile below the curve of his stache.

“yeah, i’m sure you’d like that, huh?” he took a sip as coolly as ever. the glass came down next to yours, his newly free hand propping up on your knee closest to him. granted, the close intimacy wasn’t new-none of it was, at this point-but your very own mind was spinning and wasn’t due to the alcohol, or potential food poisoning, or even goddamn nerves wracking your system about the ordeal you’d be facing. “no, seriously. would you like me to stay?”

“i mean i wouldn’t technically mind it if i had company. i’d prefer connie but you’ll do, i guess,” to this, javi did release a hearty laugh, followed with a expression of feined insult.

a few hours trascurred beyond that moment before exhaustion creeped up on the both of you. it was arranged that he’d sleep on the sofa while your bed awaited you in the adjacent dorm, and it appeared quite modest. “i’ll, uh, i’ll be right back, hold on,” you assured him, discarding your day clothes for something more comfortable in private. you brushed your teeth next, and then fixed your disheveled hair into a style suited for sleep.

“oh shit, javi-” you found him sitting at the edge of your bed tucking in a sheet that almost threatened to come off. he’d taken the liberty of adjusting the variety of pillows and blankets how he deemed fit you best. “did you just un-make my own bed?”

he got up to lift one cover to motion you under it, replying with, “yes, ma’am, i sure did.” javier ensured that every single limb was secure under the safety of the sheet, standing up straight to peer down at his work and, regarding it “perfect,” said his good night, but cold fingers unsheathed themselves to encircle around his wrist to prevent him from leaving. “oh, come on, i did such a good job-”

“please stay with me. just for a little while,” you plead. it took him more than few seconds to properly register your words, but eventually he twisted his hand to take a hold of yours and bring it into his lap as he sat back down on the cushion. he didn’t mind-he never would. you spoke to him about random things, conspiracies and books and movies and in turn, he offered his own insight. amidst slurred words, the entanglement of your fingers to his occurred. javi’s thumb drew softly on the edge of your own; throughout the silence that suddenly filled the space, he cautiously lifted the top of your hand, as if to wait for a withdrawal, and when he saw none, he kissed it softly.

“murphy asked if you and i were a thing,” he mumbled.

“what’d you tell him?” you asked.

“that we are.” he kissed your hand again before letting it go, rising up to stand over you. with the same gentleness as he’d done to your skin, he inched down to press another to your forehead. “get some rest, i think you’ve seen enough of me for today.”

“i don’t really think that’s possible.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #narcos #javier peña x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing!#javier pena x reader

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ladyherenya · 4 years

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My favourite thing this year has been the Korean drama Crash Landing on You (2019-20).

It has something of a ridiculous title (I’ve ended up calling it Crash Landing or sometimes just Crash). But, to be fair, North and South was already taken.

“I can go to Africa and even Antarctica but not here. It’s a shame that you live here.” “It’s a shame that you live there.” -- episode three

To my great amusement, every month or so, Netflix has sent me an email that’s said: “Don’t forget to finish Crash Landing on You” or “Remember this? Watch it again: Crash Landing on You” or “Rewatch your favourite moments - Watch it again: Crash Landing on You…”

And I’m like: NETFLIX! Seriously, WHAT do you THINK I’M DOING?

I have now watched Crash Landing on You five times.

There are several reasons for this:

I successfully dragged other family members down this particular rabbit hole, and in a pandemic season, when things have been unpredictable (or cancelled), rewatching Crash Landing has been an appealing and comfortably-familiar distraction, as well as the source of many, many long, analytical fandom-y conversations, which has been fun.

I needed to watch it more than once to straighten out all the pieces of the story in my head. With 16 episodes, each over an hour long, it’s one of the longest stories I’ve ever watched. I’ve seen other TV series with more episodes, but nearly all have been much more episodic, rather than telling one continuous story.

I kept noticing details that I’d previously missed because I’d been focused on the subtitles or that I hadn’t properly understood some cultural nuance. And some things are ambiguous in translation -- in a good way, a fodder-for-discussion way.

I have ALWAYS rewatched (or reread) my favourite stories. And Crash Landing fits right in with those. Someone in my family described it as: “Like Lord of the Rings on steroids!” However, I think it actually has far more in common -- visually and thematically, and also in terms of my willingness to discuss the characters as if they were real people -- with my favourite historical dramas.

In terms of story, Crash Landing is easy enough to summarise: A South Korean businesswoman is paragliding when a freak storm blows her across the border; she’s discovered by a North Korean captain, who hides her and helps her get home.

But I’m going to need more words to explain why I fell in love with it.

It is fascinating and, first time round, tense and unpredictable. It’s funny and very meta -- very aware of the tropes it’s playing with and of parallels and contrasts within the story. It’s visually and aesthetically pleasing, and the soundtrack grew on me.

There are a number of coincidences and a few ridiculous fight scenes, but the emotions are intensely real and so are the consequences. It has camaraderie and found-family and thoughtfully-complicated family relationships. There are characters I love, and characters who surprised me, and so much time given to character development! It’s romantic. There’s a fake engagement (a favourite trope of mine) and while I’m not a fan of love triangles, I liked how this quadrangle-tangle is handled. And the obstacles to the romance are satisfyingly realistic; characters have sensible reasons for the choices they make.

I love how the story uses flashbacks, particularly the post-credit scenes.

The final episode isn’t perfect, but given that a perfectly happy ending would, realistically, require the reunification of north and south, I thought it came very close.

Let me elaborate.

Cut for sheer verbosity, rather than spoilers. (I’m not allowing myself to list spoiler-ish examples or dive into analysing my favourite scenes, because then I wouldn’t just be here all night, I’d be here all week).

⬦ Fascinating, tense, unpredictable: I knew almost nothing about life in North Korea, so that was fascinating and made the story harder to predict, as I couldn’t anticipate what options the characters had or what obstacles might arise. And that isn’t the only reason I found it tense -- at different times, different characters are greatly at risk if discovered; there are occasions when characters are in danger of physical violence or are injured; and they have a couple of dilemmas to which there are just not easy solutions (See also: Obstacles for romance).

While I’m on the subject of the setting, although I cannot judge how accurate this portrayal of the north was, it’s portrayal of people as people was incredibly convincing. It’s a society where people have differences in personality and in circumstances. There are orphans begging in the market, people who can afford to stay in fancy hotels -- and a lot of people somewhere in between. In the military village, people have varying attitudes, tastes in clothes, privileges, standards of living, etc. Their lifestyle differs from that in Pyongyang, and also in other parts of the country. Amongst the military, some men are compassionate, some are corrupt and some are not obviously one or the other.

Moreover, it’s clear that corruption and villainy isn’t just in the north. In the south, as in the north, we see a range of humanity -- selfishness, good friends, complicated families, happy marriages, criminal behaviour, and so on.

I’ve read an article or two suggesting that the least realistic aspect is Ri Jeong Hyeok being such a sympathetic and honourable officer. I think it’s interesting that he clearly isn’t a typical captain -- he wanted a different career, he’s spent time studying overseas (in a democratic country), and, perhaps most importantly, his father’s position gives him protection from pressures many others face. He has the privilege of being able to afford to act with integrity, and of encouraging such behaviour in the men he leads.

⬦ Humour and meta: I’ve included these two together, because so much of the story’s self-awareness and intertextuality is humorous. I am very amused by so many things -- the village women’s interactions, Se-ri’s wit and banter, Jeong Hyeok’s facial expressions, the duckling's reactions, the way Ju Meok keeps comparing things to South Korean dramas:

Ju Meok: “I haven’t seen any drama characters that don’t fall in love in that situation. That’s how they all fall in love.”

(Because my knowledge of Korean drama is limited, there are a few cameos and references which I suspect would be amusing if one was in the know. The exception is the taxi driver singing, who was funny even without recognising the actor.)

I love the commentary that comes from all the moments when other characters witness the unfolding romance. Others’ reactions are often memorably hilarious -- some of my favouritest scenes fall into this category. (The customs officer! Jeong Hyeok’s dad!) They introduce humour and self-awareness into these moments, allowing the story to acknowledge “Yeah, we know these two are being ridiculous/sappy/emotional”. These moments reveal people’s attitudes towards displays of affection, particularly in the north, and their different attitudes towards Se-ri and Jeong Hyeok’s relationship.

And as their relationship changes, Se-ri and Jeong Hyeok’s awareness of being watched and commented upon changes, too.

Which leads me to…

⬦ Contrasts and parallels: So many scenes which echo/parallel earlier scenes. Most obviously, this allows the story to compare and contrast the north and south, but it also shows changes in time, differences between characters, and differences in relationships too. Sometimes all at once!

It means some plot developments weren’t totally unexpected -- it was Oh, of COURSE, we’re going to now see that character in this situation! or OBVIOUSLY we now have to see what this is like in the south!

But I thought it was really effective storytelling and I so much enjoyed spotting and analysing these moments.

⬦ Yoon Se-ri and Ri Jeong Hyeok: These two are the heart of the story and there are so many things I love about them. Like how, even though Se-ri is dependent upon Jeong Hyeok to hide and help her -- even though they’re initially hesitant about a romantic relationship -- they quickly become very protective of each other. Often to the point of willingly risking their own safety. Often to the point of exasperating the other. It’s great.

That’s not the only thing they discover they have in common. They share some interests. They’re both highly intelligent, driven, successful leaders (he’s a captain, she’s a CEO) who are very private, lonely people carrying around grief about their family and their past. Neither of them likes to reveal their emotions -- he tries to conceal his by suppressing his facial expressions and avoiding answering questions, while Se-ri hides behind play-acting.

I like watching Se-ri trying to get to know Jeong Hyeok. She isn’t deterred by his silences (unlike someone else) and she keeps the conversation going even when he doesn’t respond. She watches him closely, and says or does things to provoke a reaction. Poke, poke, poke.

And the time they spend together is really revealing. They share meals, they share a house. They see how the other responds under pressure, but also in various social and domestic situations. They see each other in a range of moods: calm, happy, grumpy, scared, tired, upset, unwell. Crash Landing takes advantage of spending sixteen episodes with these characters. Going through so many different experiences together, they learn a lot about each other -- about each other’s values, tastes and temperament -- and this means the audience gets a deeper, more nuanced understanding of who they are, too.

Se-ri and Jeong Hyeok are also well-matched in how they show they appreciate each other -- she delights in giving presents, and he is quick to notice things Se-ri might need or like.

And it’s very satisfying when they open up, or when they cry in front of each other, because you know that they don’t do this lightly or easily.

⬦ Obstacles for romance, love triangle quadrangle-tangle: I appreciate that the obstacles in this story are not contrived or fueled by needless misunderstandings. Se-ri and Jeong Hyeok have really solid, sensible reasons to be hesitant to first recognise, then admit to, and then act upon, a romantic attraction. Even once they realise that getting Se-ri home is going to take longer than they’d hoped and she’s pretending to be Jeong Hyeok’s fiancée, romance between them is still a road that leads nowhere. She isn’t safe staying in the north and he would endanger his family if he defected to the south, and they both accept that. And they’re reticent about sharing vulnerable feelings, and Jeong Hyeok is actually engaged to someone else.

But once they really open up to each other, the narrative conflict revolves around their circumstances, rather than doubts or misunderstandings they have about each other. Because the situations they face are dangerous and difficult, with no obvious or straightforward path to a happy ending, there’s quite enough tension to drive the story forward. They still have a couple of misunderstandings, but I like how they handle those, and I like that they don’t have more of them.

As for the love triangle, it doesn’t have the angst of someone torn between, or even attracted to, two people. Jeong Hyeok’s engagement has been arranged. Having feelings for someone else doesn’t change the foundation of that engagement, nor the pressure to please his family. He doesn’t love or know his fiancée -- not well enough to risk revealing Se-ri’s true identity to her. He’s honest with Se-ri and he makes an effort with Dan.

(I have a theory that, if he had been in love before, he might be quicker to recognise how some of his behaviour towards Se-ri fosters intimacy and sends her messages he doesn’t intend, but this is all new for him.)

He tries not to mislead or hurt Dan, but she’s hurt nonetheless, and I like that Crash Landing doesn’t gloss over that. It explores why she’s hurt, why she’s so reluctant to let him go and why their relationship never really worked. (Neither of them are good at communicating with each other, and I think she takes some of the things he does for her for granted, rather than recognising them as overtures and as opportunities to get to know him better.)

Dan is not just a romantic rival, nor a narrative complication, but a person whose concerns and desire are taken seriously, and who is given space to grow.

Which leads me to...

⬦ Surprising characters, thoughtfully-complicated family relationships: As mentioned, Crash Landing takes advantage of the amount of character development 16 episodes allows, and not just for its lead couple. I was surprised by how much my opinion of certain characters changed, as I came to understand them better.

The character I was most surprised by was Gu Seung-jun.

Each time I’ve watched this, I’ve liked Dan more. I have a lot of sympathy for her now. I also like her mother, even though she’s embarrassingly over the top, because she cares fiercely about her daughter and about advocating for her.

Se-ri’s dysfunctional family are more nuanced than I expected, too. In particular, I love the attention the story gives to Se-ri’s relationship with her step-mother. I was expecting Se-ri’s father to play a larger role, perhaps because he’s nominally the one with the power and influence, and at first Se-ri’s mother seems so passive. But it was really interesting to understand where she’s coming from, why her relationship with Se-ri is broken and sad. The steps the two of them take towards rebuilding their relationship are believable.

(On a related thought, I appreciate a lot of the choices this makes in addressing these women’s mental health struggles. One or two moments arguably could have been handled better, but on the whole it’s realistically optimistic, with enough detail so that we understand the seriousness -- the impact it’s had on these women’s lives.)

⬦ Camaraderie, found family and the ducklings: Se-ri doesn’t spend as much time with the village women as she does with Jeong Hyeok and his soldiers, and when she does, she’s play-acting, in order to keep her identity a secret. But I like how they nevertheless support her, and how meeting her sparks change their dynamic with each other. They grow closer and become much better at supporting each other. It’s really heartwarming.

We gave many of the characters codenames, so we could discuss them when we were still learning their names. (I was surprised by how long it took me to learn some of the characters’ names. Because so many were unfamiliar to me, they were harder to remember; I wasn’t always sure, from just reading the subtitles, how all of them were pronounced, and sometimes it was hard to separate the sound of the names from surrounding sentences, especially when, due to honorifics and titles and so on, subtitles don’t always match exactly what is being said.) Jeong Hyeok’s men are “the ducklings”, inspired by something I saw on Tumblr: Gwang Beom is “Handsome Duckling”, Ju Meok is “Drama Duckling” and Chi Su is just the sergeant.) I love how they function as a found-family, especially in contrast to Se-ri’s real family. They’re funny, loyal and caring, and in spite of their different personalities, work well together as a team. I enjoyed seeing the different relationships they have with each other, with Jeong Hyeok and Se-ri, and how some of those relationships change. And they’re so protective they are of Eun Dong!

Man Bok has an interesting arc -- I could have mentioned him under Surprising characters. I really like how he fits into this story, how he’s connected to the mystery Jeong Hyeok is investigating, how he becomes involved with the rest of the characters and has these moments when he plays a significant role. Or gets to be funny. I like the contrast and parallels too -- he’s in a different place in his life to the ducklings, and he gets opportunities to revisit past choices he regrets.

And I’m trying not to write essays about all the characters, and it’s ahhh, I have too many thoughts and feelings about them all!

⬦ Satisfyingly realistic: I like how -- one or two ridiculous fight scenes and an unrealistic paragliding scene aside -- things which happen have believable consequences. Particularly emotionally. We see men cry! A lot! And it always feels like a genuine expression of emotion, not gratuitous or overwrought. (Well, okay, there’s a very minor character who’s a bit over the top but he’s very minor.)

When one of the characters is gravely ill, she looks it, I found it oddly satisfying that she doesn’t have to be pretty all the time.

And I wasn’t sure if this belonged here or under “Visual details” but I love the attention given to Se-ri’s clothes. She cares a lot about fashion and in the north her clothing choices indicate that she cares a lot about her appearance, while making do with a limited wardrobe and still dressing for warmth. (I’m happy to handwave that she seems to have more clothes than would realistically fit in those shopping bags.) I appreciated the practical streak, and, as winter wore on here, became envious of one of her outfits.

I don’t personally like the style of Se-ri chooses for work, but it’s different it is from what she wore in the north and from what she wears at home -- her power-dressing is like a uniform or a statement of persona she projects in her working life, and not necessarily a reflection of her personal tastes.

⬦ Visual details: I love so many of the visuals. Gorgeous scenery, interesting settings and clever framing for significant scenes. The sky, a place without borders, often becomes a focus and there’s a thematically-relevant flight motif -- paragliders, birds and kites.

I did not start noticing the product placement until a rewatch, when I stopped to think about how often they went to Subway. The first time, it just seemed like a commentary on south-versus-north, and then I was just baffled-yet-amused by it all. (That sort of thing does not make me want to eat fried chicken...)

⬦ Soundtrack: The first time round, I liked the instrumental score and the presence of piano music actually in the story. As I kept rewatching, the rest of the soundtrack slowly but steadily grew on me, and I found myself liking the songs more and more.

Now I not only recognise them by name, I can recall most of them well enough to hum them and know which scenes they’re associated with. Which is a lot harder when the lyrics are in a language I don’t speak and so I can’t use them as a prompt for memory.

⬦ Flashbacks: Instead of “previously-on” segments, Crash Landing employs lots of flashbacks whenever it wants to remind the audience of something.

Sometimes, instead of just repeating part of an earlier scene, it takes the opportunity to show the same moment from different angles or from a different character’s perspective, or to juxtapose it with a different scene or to introduce new information. This was really effective. And when flashbacks were a simple repeat, I was usually happy to revisit important moments in the story (and sometimes, having a different person translating the subtitles meant there was a slightly different perspective on the dialogue).

Then there are the post-credit flashbacks, quite a few of which take places years earlier. I love how they’re puzzle pieces about the characters’ pasts and the connections between them.

⬦ The end: The first time round, after watching the penultimate episode I was so engrossed in the story and so invested in the characters that I had trouble sleeping and I went around the next day with this tight, anxious feeling, unable to get the story out of my head.

The final episode is an emotional rollercoaster. SO. MANY. FEELINGS. There’s one particular scene which packs a powerful punch -- it’s exceptionally emotional and beautifully filmed. I love it, but I’m glad we get the aftermath too.

It isn’t a perfect ending, but as I said, I don’t think there was a perfect ending was possible, not one that was both realistic and satisfying. But this comes very close. In the very final scenes, not everything is resolved or explained, and I like how that ambiguity is open to interpretation -- I like that there are some gaps for the viewer to fill in for oneself, however one prefers to imagine the characters’ lives going forward.

I know I could easily write another four thousand words about this story -- there are aspects I haven’t really discussed but this seems like a good place to stop. For now. I really like this story. I expect I’ll watch it all again soon.

#Herenya recommends things #Crash Landing on You #thoughts I have them #Yet another CLOY rewatch

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oh-theres-a-woman · 4 years

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Flowers in a Peaked Cap; Part Two

A/N: Surprise another update this week! I’ve been surprised at the amount I’ve been publishing recently, it’s been a nice change. Something to take my mind off things. Hope everyone enjoys this part. Basically setting up for some conflict within the Shelby family because Tillie wants to go off and live her dream. Also, throwing in the potential of a love interest being there or a platonic friendship. You’ll have to let me know what you want to see!!

Taglist: @zodiyack @hesagod-notyet @itsfrancisneptun @amys-small-world @fandom-fucking-shit @hinagiku0 @dylanlover24 @amirahiddleston @smallheathgangsters @a-dorky-book-keeper @writeroutoftime @midnightstarlight02

Parts: [ Prologue ], [ 1 ], [ 3 ]

Word Count: 1495

There was something completely thrilling hearing about stories from the areas outside of Birmingham. Life in the big city of London. It wasn’t something Tillie had ever been really interested in. Yet, the chance of learning about the different atmospheres, from the working class and posh boys that read stories about them. Walter read article like stories about the London gangs and flitted about with the potential of a romance within the smoky haze of the opium dens. His stories were struggle euphoric and erotic to the ear. Some of the utterly vulgar choice of words had Tillie sitting there blushing. The daringness was something that she could most definitely praise once she got passed the first shock of it. His words and the use of them were almost taboo or pornographic as some of the older gents and women would say about. Apparently, Walt, as he liked to be called, was apart of the generation that had more balls and less shame in topics of propriety—as people of his station would say; likely scoffing into their expensive bone china tea cup. Norman fancied the more historical ventures; text that was written and felt like it was centuries old. A thriller in genre, it had everyone leaning in. Without their knowledge. Cigarettes burning down to the filters throughout his telling. Tillie had wondered if Norm had even investigated a publisher for his works. Certainly, there was plenty of people that would love the thriller element in some sort of historical drama. She could picture his rather handsome face printed in the back of a book. Dressed up all smart like he was then and there. Mister Augustine’s tale were something that seemed speak to her in completion. They left her wanting more or lost in that world. Closing her eyes. Tillie could picture the build world and the characters within the realms that were coming to life. His was boarder than the others were a nice mix of baritone. Clapping among the others at the end of Robert’s reading. For the blossoming moment Shelby blue eyes met the perfectly handsome gaze of lush green. It made Tillie think of the fields where she would ride her horse through on the down days. On days where she wanted and would like to escape from it all. Stilled there for a moment like a moth caught by a flame, Robert’s smile that passed on his lips was truly enchanting. He seemed so perfectly in his element; surrounded books. Much like Tillie. However, she liked a large pile of books on a rug under the nicest tree in a valley filled with flowers. It would be her Romani book dream. Joe Gilbert and the other boys then began their stories. Tales that she knew were relative recounts of what they had done in primary school. Made stories about this cruel Peaky Blinder boy bullying them when it was the other way around. It made Tillie Shelby’s knuckles go a bone white as she gripped the spine of her book so tightly. When stories about her came up, she was the scandalously behaving twin that didn’t fit in nowhere, not even with the crowd of her family. It was true; Tillie did not fit in. But Joe Gilbert did not need to say that. Nor did he have to ruin the narrative and slander her very character—right in front of her. Maybe she was against him all along and that’s why even with the character damaging lies in his tale. Tillie could tell he was better off working in the newspaper with stories like that. For all she knew; he was actively working for the Birmingham press. Robert had the sense enough to stop the stories before they became too much. A Shelby like temper brew up behind her icy blue eyes. The awkwardness continued when she stormed out of the shop shortly after the story ended. Cheek reddened and eyes watering at the utterly nasty things they said. Discarded among the ruin of the writer’s club meeting was the lovely book. That she prided herself in slipping every story worth the pages, her brothers saved over to get the leather bound book. Made the old way. So, it was an expensive piece and incredibly sentimental but a single photograph that fell out begin the pages. “Was that really necessary—I watched you this whole time make an effort to make Miss Shelby uncomfortable. You made an utter arse of yourself.” Robert was the one to break the lingering silence. He’d been the observer the whole time. Norm followed with a small nod of his head. Walt—wasn’t quite sure what the issue was. It was all in good writing to make someone feel someone. He didn’t seem to connect neither of the three men had books in their hands or paper to read off that entire time. Scoffing in disgust, Rob collected the book. Careful of other things falling out all over the place. Before stepping out into the streets in the hopes to find the bright upstart—Tillie Shelby. A woman that has a voice that ladies of that time needed. As timid as she maybe in person. Everything written on the pages of that before him; from what she read aloud. Was clean and polished. She was fast, even when dressed in her best clothes. Tillie was light on her feet, as if she were a horse in gallop or cantor. Lush blonde hair flowed over her shoulders. In the heat of the moment—everything had pretty much been forgotten when fleeing the bookstore. Clearly, she would never be worth in or good enough in eyes of the men now more than certainly knew a thing or two about bringing out the worst in her. “Miss Shelby! Wait you forgot your book!” Robert called out down the lane, catching Tillie’s attention when she was about a quarter of the way home. Turning on her heel. Reddened eyes were puffy, and her cheeks flushed. He caught his step rather quickly after, halting a few paces before her. Huffing a little. “Christ you’re fast for how small you are, never seen a lady run so fast before. I think you’d put most men to shame.” Rob chuckled looking down at Tillie before awkwardly stopping his bantering. Noticing the presence of tears in her eyes. Gently a hand outstretched touching the smoothness of cheek, thumb careful to wipe the collecting tears away. “Did their stories really bother you that much?” He whispered looking at her with the truest concern. Before slipping the book back into her hand. “It is hard to hear people speak badly of my brothers; Finn didn’t do half the shit they said. And I am no whore—I have no interest in that sort of thing, most definitely not them.” Tillie’s face contorted with a sign of disgust at the mere mention of her being with any of those boys in such a way. Lowering her head, hands fidgeting awkwardly. She had given her secret away in the end it seemed. In the buy streets of Small Heath—Robert looked around the crowd and glanced back with alarm. He was the perfectly dressed gentleman. Tillie very clearly a girl from the lower working class. A taboo scene, as he lowered his hand from her face. So aware of the eyes held on them. Unknowing that some of them were her brothers that had gone out for business deals and sorting out a few problems throughout Birmingham. “You’re not a whore. You are a slave to your pen, as any writer is.” Robert gestured to the ink cover on her hands, that were only faint stains now. But clearly still apparent to the watchful eye. “Like most of us are. Something those boys are not—because they lack the knowledge on what is considered rumours and gossip, from a gripping and exciting story. Our ideals are not to hurt anyone with what we write, those lot on the other hand—every much have that intention.” He admitted his discoveries through observations of the trio in the bookstore prior. Tucking his own slightly stained hands into his pocket, rather embarrassed that Tillie’s eyes wandering to them. The gentleman stood up a little straighten. Yet, before he could say anymore, an audible cough left someone’s lips. Tillie turned to see her brother Thomas and Arthur looking very plainly at the pair. “What’s this about someone calling you a whore, Tillie?” Thomas said in a cool murderous rumble collecting at the back of his throat. He was focking pissed at that news, glancing to the posh looking lad that clearly was out of sorts in Birmingham for a moment. Holding a cigarette to his lips, running the paper along his lip for a moment so it wouldn’t stick—he glared at Robert Augustine. A questioning look that made the youngest Shelby glower at her second eldest brother.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #400

“it’s an age-old story: the first will be last, and the last will be kings / the small will be great, and the great will be weak”

Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? My mom; I thank her every time she cooks for me/us, and I really do mean it. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? Somewhere around a month. What was the last thing to really surprise you? My brother has a fiancee and is having another son! :') Have you ever found out that you have been sleep walking? No. Have you ever tried making something from one of those short cooking videos? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever written a review for a product you bought online? No. What was the last thing you had the urge to do? Idk about anything notable. Is there anyone you feel that takes you for granted? No. What is the last thing you had a craving for? A donut. Do you ever read the comments on social media posts? Sometimes. What was the last thing you felt like you wasted money on? It's so rare that I buy things with my own cash that I really don't know. What was the last thing you wanted to buy, but couldn’t afford? Venus' terrarium on my own. Mom has to help me with buying it. What is a recipe you’d like to try to make for yourself? I don’t cook, so. What goes through your mind when you look back at old photographs of yourself? More than anything, I get sad over how much weight I've gained. I was so healthy once upon a time. It also just makes me miss my childhood. What was the subject matter of the last email you sent? I believe it was about setting up an appointment with my therapist. How do you get your news? Facebook articles, really. What do you think about lizards? I love them! I was that kid that always tried to catch them when I saw 'em. Now I just observe because I don't want to terrify them by trying to pick them up. Have you ever done consumer testing (testing products before they come out on the market)? If not, would you ever want to? No, but sure, I'd do it. Have you ever received anesthesia or morphine? Both. The time I received morphine, it did jack-all for me. If you had to choose which video game to be in, which would it be? Hmmm... I would say Azeroth from World of Warcraft, but too much shit goes down, ha ha. Perhaps the top of the temple in Shadow of the Colossus? So long as I could have someone I love with me, I'd be in Heaven. Although... I doubt there's WiFi there, so I might drop that answer, lmfao. I really don't know. Between the two, would you rather live in a place where it’s only night or where it’s only day? Day. I need the natural light of day sometimes, and if I wanted to sleep, I could just find shade. If you had to be an actor/actress in a movie, what genre of the movie would you be best at? Fantasy. Out of fire, earth, water, wind, light, and dark, which element appeals the most to you? Dark. What’s one thing that you wish was real? Friendly dragons, haha. Is there anything (show, comedian, etc.) that you constantly quote or make references to? No. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have absolutely no idea. I don't even remember almost any of them. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Yes. Did/do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Yeah, sometimes. I genuinely don't mind her. Do you still make Christmas lists? Yeah, because I'm asked to. Do you watch the show Dexter? Never seen it. Which musical instrument do you think sounds the prettiest? I'm torn between the violin, harp, and piano. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom, by a year. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? A lot, actually. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? I have these tictacs I keep in my purse in case of a dry mouth. Medication makes me have that severely, and my psychiatrist recommended me to always have a hard candy available to suck on since it forces salivation. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? My younger sister, badly. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They're all dead, but they lived in far away states. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? None. It's a bad idea to keep chips in this house, haha. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Well, I was born with dirty blonde hair like my dad, but my hair is thick and more similar in color now to my mom's before the cancer completely drained the color. If you were going out with your celebrity crush, what would you wear? OH MY GOD LA;KSDJFAKLWJE I DON'T KNOW I LOOK AWFUL IN EVERYTHING. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Teared up, yes, multiple times. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I might swear under my breath, but that's the extent of it. If you were adopted, would you want to know? At this point in my life, I don't really know. I kinda find myself leaning towards no. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman sure does. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? I want to say that was the night before I was getting my tattoo redone. Do you own any flip-flops? Yeah, considering they're like... all I wear, ever. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) It was the only lucid dream I've ever had and I'm not complaining about it lmao. Have you ever had a dream that upset you or made you cry? Oh I'm sure. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Not to my recollection, no, and I don't believe you should ever adopt that mentality and say that to someone. Do you own a laser? No. Is there anything you like to put on a sandwich, that some might find odd? Nah. I do enjoy a layer of potato chips on some sandwiches, like ham and cheese, but I know that's like an actual thing some people just like. What colour are the shoes you wear most often? They're black flip-flops. When was the last time you were required to put on a mask? In the morning when I go to the TMS office. And what colour was the last mask you wore? It's one of those normal blue and white medical ones. The last time you were in a queue, what were you waiting for? To see the woman who would give me my APAP mask. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes, Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? None for the first shot, but my second shot bruised badly and I felt seriously shitty the following day. I was perfectly fine afterwards, though. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Sara has an AMAAAAAAAAAAAZING voice. When was the last time you wore make-up, if ever? What shades/colours? I don't even remember, but I'm sure it would've been black. What is something that seems popular, but doesn't interest you personally? Fashion, various TV shows, etc... Are you clumsy or graceful? I am STUPID clumsy. Like it's just ridiculous. Do you like gloves? I like fingerless gloves. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did as a kid. Do you ever say "OMG" in person? No; it's a random pet peeve of mine, "Internet talk" irl. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Dad, no idea. Mom, uhhhh. Not "mad," but "annoyed" probably better fits how she felt about me leaving the heating pad I use for my cramps on the floor. Do your pets have favorites? I'm definitely Roman's favorite seeing as he is my literal shadow, and I'd assume Venus trusts me more than anyone else, but realistically, she's in contact with almost no one else, so. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Why did you break up? The first guy to have the title of "boyfriend" was Aaron, and I broke up with him 'cuz I just wasn't as romantically into him as I thought I might be. It was puppy-dog love, and I feel I knew that. My first *real* boyfriend was Jason, who broke up with me because my mental illnesses began to affect his wellbeing. Which I now accept is fine, but he seriously coulda gone about things differently... When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Late into my teenage years; idk the exact age and don't feel like doing the math. Teddy kept peeing on the bed to where it was just unrecoverable and needed to be thrown away. My current bed is comfy enough. What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? My absolute favorite was digging tunnels in the sandbox, pretending to be a meerkat. The only trend I ever created, haha, seeing as my classmates got into it with me, allowing us to make huge tunnel systems. It was really cool. I also liked playing 4 Square (which I now don't even remember the details of) on the basketball court. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driver's ed instructor and the guy who was on the same route as me. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? N/A Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any as pets? I'm picky with dogs. I like interacting with any dog, but I don't plan on ever owning another. I don't like how hyper they can be, and I prefer more independent pets, like cats. Basically, I'll be hyped to meet a random dog on the street and give it some loving, but I don't want to take it home to be my own. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? No. I cannot stand elitists. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? And I hate gatekeeping in fandoms even more. There are varying intensities of "being a fan," but regardless, if you like something, congratulations, you're a valid, "real" fan. What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? I don't pay attention to this, honestly. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? I'll wear either, but without is way more comfortable. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? God no. What length do you like your shorts to be? I don’t wear shorts. What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Warcraft, but not because it was bad. I've talked before how in the theater, the orcs' voices were just so fucking baritone that I couldn't understand almost ANYTHING they said. Kinda ruined the experience for me. What was the last disappointing book you read? Don't recall. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Very rarely. If I do, they're mostly of animals being silly. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Probably Dory, but idk. There's WAY too many options to fish through.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''this is the kingdom'' by skillet

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

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The Homicide is Hot -12

18+, m/f/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess struggles with her own morality. But all cats are gray in the dark, right? Oh, and Diego has an epiphany.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Literal murder guys, seriously*** Protective Diego, feels, a blow job, plus size woman+fit man, insightful and helpful Julio, f o r e s h a d o w i n g

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

gif by @el-cheung

"Its hot when he's homicidal." There. You said it.

Okay but remember that time when he stabbed two dudes and carved an ear off of a third? And you were gonna like, die if you didn't blow him IMMEDIATELY???

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.

Wait, wait. Maybe this is … good? That is not the correct word but you know what I mean. If I'm going to be with someone in his position then I need to be able to handle everything that entails, right?

You glance over at TMP, the small stuffed panther is facing you on the breakfast bar. You know its ridiculous, but you feel like he's watching you. It only takes half a second, but you flip the stuffie around so he can't be a voyeur just like his namesake.

The small dry erase board in your lap reflects sunlight back up into your face. Its covered in anxious scribbles regarding last weekend, you're desperately trying to sort them into some semblance of helpfulness. It isn't going well.

I already know he is in love with me, straight out of the horse's mouth. Lol 'horse'.

Seriously. You cannot go one day without a dick joke.

I love him. I mean, how can I claim to love someone if I don't accept all of them? He doesn't maim indiscriminately, it has a point. Is it justified? I don't know. Do I trust his judgment on it being justified? I think I do. I guess the better question is: Do I care?

I'm already in it. He's paying half my bills, he already paid off all my debt. I've accepted so many gifts with the knowledge that they were bought with laundered drug money. Hell, every article of clothing I'm wearing right fucking now was purchased by Diego. Also, he said that those guys lost a shipment to the tune of EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS, so you know, that's an accessory charge. At this point, even if I decide I have some arbitrary moral high ground, I'm definitely rolling around in a ditch, legally speaking.

You've always known that your morality was a bit off center than most people's, but being with Diego has put it into sharp relief. There are so many things that are illegal that you just don't care about. And your very visceral reaction that night was irrefutable proof.

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

Last weekend

Diego does not like the cold. The heat in the SUV is turned way up, you already closed the vents on your side of the backseat. You're on your phone, pretending to ignore the massive hand sneaking under the hem of your dress while your legs are flopped over his lap.

Diego rumbles at you, the phone comes down just enough for you to peek over the top at him.

"Yes? Is there something you would like, my Murder Panther?" Your smirk is damn near audible as you question him.

His eyes trail down to your lap then back up before he answers in a growl, "There is something I would love." The rockiness of his voice never fails to make you quiver just a tiny bit.

Just as those long fingers brush your thong his phone chirps. Repeatedly. And then starts ringing.

Diego snatches the cell out of his jacket pocket and hisses at the screen. Not good, you think. He answers it with a tirade of Spanish, shoots you an incomprehensible look, then retreats from you. Nooooo.

Being the only one in the car who doesn't speak Spanish is its own variety of delightful hell. Bastian and Julio are exchanging meaningful looks in the front while you just have to wait. Diego has gone quiet, which is utterly terrifying.

He disconnects the call, then passes the phone to Julio, who shows it to Bastian, who then changes course.

Diego reluctantly pulls your dress back down as you drop your feet to the floor. He raises a thick arm and tucks you into his side underneath it before kissing the top of your head apologetically.

"We have to run an errand."

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

The warehouse looks like it came straight out of a Law and Order episode. Its abandoned yet eerily lit from the inside, there is a suspicious assortment of motley vehicles parked outside, and two tattoo covered dudes toting semiautomatics appear as you pull up.

"Please tell me those belong to you." You mutter quietly. Your immediate concern is Diego's safety.

Diego gives you the shark smile. "The men or the guns, Princess?"

In the dark, at this incredibly sketchy location, and with the threat of violence thick in the air, he is actually a little bit scary.

You swallow the apprehension and glare at him with a raised chin. "Yes." You snap, crossing your arms in a stubborn huff. Holding his gaze right now is kind of intimidating but you manage it.

"Si, everything here is mine." His voice is hard as steel but the hand that comes up to grip your chin is gentle. It takes a second for you to realize that he is including you in that group. And that you like it.

You take in his features, those eyes are black in the darkness, but the silver in his beard glints in the partial moonlight. The defined jawline, his long straight nose, those perfectly framed velvet lips, thick brows and even thicker hair. So fucking gorgeous. Cupping his bristly cheeks, you whisper one requirement, "Just make sure to come back to me, baby."

Diego leans his forehead down on yours briefly, then kisses your nose. "Wait here for Diego, my Princess." His voice is dark and dripping with emotion. Julio opens the car door from outside and Diego steps out, adjusting his jacket and tucking the abalone-inlaid gun into his pants. He doesn't look back as they walk away.

Bastian steps out and closes the driver's door to smoke. The only door left open is the rear passenger next to where you sit. You're too preoccupied to stay focused on your cell. You look up to see that Bastian is on his phone, Probably his boyfriend checking on him. You can certainly understand that.

Faint voices float out of the open warehouse garage door, but everything is in Spanish. You slide down to the pavement and pace slowly. Its been almost twenty minutes, should you try to check on him? Each lap of pacing takes you ever closer to the empty doorway, purely by happenstance of course, until finally, finally, you can see people inside.

There are three men kneeling on the floor, surrounded by at least two dozen others armed to the teeth. There are more guns than you have ever seen in your life, all being handled casually. Diego paces slowly in front of them, rattling off some rambling array of options, judging from his tone. Whatever he just said must have been unfavorable because two of the kneeling men start crying and begging. I should not be here.

Diego digs both hands deep into his pants pockets, as though searching for a lost item, only to pull out the larger of the switchblades that you know he always carries. Ambling forward, he snatches the man furthest from you by the hair and yanks his head back. The angle looks excruciating, but what happens next is infinitely worse. The blade glints under the overhead lighting as Diego slides it smoothly across the man's throat, triggering a cascade of red.

Diego just slit his throat.

Diego just killed that man.

Diego just committed murder.

You're frozen. Think. Think. If you move now someone will hear your shoes, you stuff a hand into your mouth just in case you make any noise. Your plum dress and black booties should blend into the night, thank fuck the dress is longer so there's less gleaming pale leg to reflect the moonlight.

I should go I should go back to the car I should go home. Your thoughts are racing but you can't look away as Diego skirts the rapidly expanding pool of blood and approaches the next man. He leans down to listen to the doomed man's pleas, one huge hand on his shoulder in mock comfort. Almost faster than your eyes can follow, Diego stabs him three times in the chest. The man coughs, then chokes on blood. Diego nudges him backwards to the floor with an expression of mild disgust before he can cough blood onto those exceedingly expensive shoes. The noise of his death is a quiet gurgle.

You can't feel your legs. Your stomach plummets and your heart rate leaps. This is Diego. This is my man. This is who he is and what he does. And this is what happens if you wrong him.

Just like I'm doing right now?

Sudden understanding makes your palms sweat and your jaw shake. Breathe. I trust him. You know, all the way down to the bottom of your soul, that he would never do anything like this to you.

I'm different.

I'm special.

I'm important.

I have power.

The thrill of getting away with something courses up your spine.

All of these men are his to command, available at his beck and call, and his to dispatch as he sees fit.

And you? Diego belongs to you. This powerful man chooses to kneel at your feet and pleasure you with his mouth, he dotes on you with gifts and gourmet dining, he waits for your text responses with baited breath. You want nothing more than to belong to him.

Movement snaps you out of your own head; Diego is approaching the last man, all confident stalk and predatory grin. A different feeling settles low and deep in your abdomen. Murder Panther. MY Murder Panther.

Diego strokes over the man, no, this one is younger, the young man's hair. He is definitely an adult, but hasn't been for very long. Diego is whispering in his ear, the guy nods frantically and tilts his head toward you. You watch in morbid fascination as Diego carves off his ear.

Diego wipes the blade off on the man's shirt, then pats him on the head as he walks off casually. He gestures to the group as he puts the knife away and they close ranks to help the lone surviving man to his feet and carry him off.

Before you can jolt your body into retreating Diego turns to head your way. He glances up… and sees you.

His face, Oh no. Shock, horror, dismay, annoyance, and finally, determined resolution all cross his features in under three seconds. He uses his broad body to block you from his men's view and marches you back to the SUV. "Get in." He snarls, but he doesn't push you.

You slide all the way across the backseat to crash against the opposite side and Diego follows, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He scrubs a hand down his face and turns to you, expression grim.

You can't imagine what you look like, Probably a scared little bunny. But what you feel like? Oh, that is a different story. Damn near everything about what you just witnessed was so fucking hot. The actual homicides were kind of 'meh' (What is wrong with me???), but his power and ability and danger? Those you are definitely into.

He looks simultaneously defeated and defiant. "Well?" He barks with an expectant gesture. "This is me. This is what I do. You call me Murder Panther, but its different to see, isn't it, Princess?" The way he spits out his pet name for you hurts. He's lashing out in fear. He thinks I'm gonna run.

You keep your eyes locked with his as you reach out to his leg. He flinches at the contact but stays stiff. Your voice is smoky and dark, "I need you. Right fucking now. Give me your dick."

For the first time since you've met, Diego is speechless. His jaw hangs open while he watches you sink to your knees in front of him. Seemingly paralyzed, he just blinks as you rip his pants open and yank the material down over his hips. The instant you achieve clearance for his cock your mouth is on him. Your moan must vibrate the entire vehicle its so loud.

"Princess!" He finally gasps. "You. What. Fuuuck, what is. Oh, hell yes." His hips jerk and you dig your nails into his lower abdomen. He is fully erect in seconds, a little confusion isn't enough to cockblock Diego. Big hands flit through your peripheral vision erratically before settling on your head. The angle is finally correct and you slide him all the way down your throat, he practically howls with it. "Ahh, h-haaa. Jesus fuck, that feels so good. Shit, shit. Princesss."

The way he calls for you, writhing with it, is almost too much. You moan back but don't stop bobbing your head on his length. Firm suction intermixed with sporadic long licks of your broad tongue have him leaking steadily in no time. Your left hand cups his balls, squeezing gently just to feel him tense up. He's salty, but not bitter. You want it. You need him.

Your right hand snakes down to hike up the dress. Once it’s over your wide hips you spread your knees so you can sink down onto his shoe. He doesn't notice at first, not until your hips start rocking in time with your suction.

He grabs a fistful of hair to get your attention. "Are. Fucking christ woman, are you riding my foot?!" His eyes are huge, mouth open to pant.

You nod tightly, "Mm hmm." The moan vibrates all along his cock, causing his hips to rise off the seat.

"Ohh, oh fuck. You're so wet. I can hear it." He groans as though in agony. The thrusts begin to pick up pace and you grind down onto him. Your mouth can open just wide enough to accommodate the majority of his girth, you already know your neck is going to kill you tomorrow. Worth it. The skin of his cock is silky slick with both of you, he glides across your tongue easily but it requires pressure to fit him down your throat. Its like consuming fire, you're burning up from the inside out and its painfully perfect.

In the darkness of the unlit SUV you can't see anything, you can only hear Diego moan and pant while your nose is buried in the soft hair on his lower belly. The intensity of being engulfed in his scent drives you to distraction, you grind down hard on his foot and you're so, so close. His hips lift off the seat to push deeper and you ride his motions, swallowing around the head of his cock. One enormous hand sinks deep into your curls, he pulls gently just because he knows you like it. His purr is deep, "My perfect little Princess."

That's all it takes. You drop your entire weight onto his foot to shudder and whine as an orgasm rips through you. Hips jerking in time with each spasm deep inside, you ride out all the waves without ever breaking rhythm on his dick.

Diego is frozen in shock as he realizes what just happened. He pulls you off, much to your whining disappointment, to stare down at you in awe. He stutters a little, "Good. Girl."

The instant he releases ringlets you dive down onto him with renewed vigor. The emphatic praise only spurs you on even stronger. Everything is wet; his dick, your mouth, his pants, your chin, the seat, your dress, his shoe. Everything. The sounds, the way he tastes, you're desperate to have him.

"You want this? You want Diego?" His voice is so rough, so harsh. You nod tightly and moan for him, high pitched and hoarse. "Princess, so damn good, take it. Take all of me. Fuck, you look goddamn amazing on my cock." His hands stroke endlessly over your hair, his hips are jerking harshly and you know he is close. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Come," he is gasping, panting, "Come again for Diego, mi amor." His body stiffens, his legs shake, the grip in your hair tightens, and his head drops backwards to the seat as he pours down your throat in scorching jets.

Diego collapses, boneless and breathless, but you don't release him. Your right hand shoots down between your legs to work your clit furiously while you continue suckling softly.

"Yesss," he sighs upon noticing your actions. His voice drops low, overflowing with sinful threat, "You come for Diego. Pretty little Princess, all mine. Follow orders, come on your Murder Panther."

It breaks you. Your whole body seizes up as you wail for him, clenching down on nothing in painful ecstasy. Finally relinquishing his cock, you flop face down into his lap with an exhausted groan. Diego melts back into the seat and you both just lay there, panting.

Diego raps on the door window but stays slumped down and loose-limbed.

Bastian unlocks the SUV, then pops the driver's door to stick his head inside. "Yeah, boss?" The blonde studiously avoids looking lower than Diego's face. You can hear Julio chuckling behind Bastian.

"Fuck the club. Take us home." Diego decrees lazily. You sputter joyful laughter directly into his pants.

You ride home curled up in his lap, snuggled into that salt and pepper beard you love so much while Diego feathers kisses all over your face, the knife cradled in your hands.

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

Diego stumbles down the stairs the next morning, yawning hugely, only to find Julio in the kitchen, unashamedly raiding the fridge. Bastard, Diego chuckles.

"Manito! We need to talk." Julio gets right to the matter. "Before Gordita gets up." He adds pointedly.

Uhh, what. "Fine. Talk. Also, are you eating carrots at 10:12am??" That is disgusting.

Diego plops down onto a barstool and stares dejectedly at the espresso machine until Julio rolls his eyes and turns it on for him.

"Look, you need a check, eh?" Julio sighs but stands firm while Diego side eyes him suspiciously. When no objection comes, Julio forges on, "She saw you murder two people and cut an ear off a third last night, right? And her response was to blow you in the car? Fucking ride your foot to come, what, twice?"

Diego smiles dreamily, "Yeah. It was a good night." So. Much. Licking.

Julio passes him the steaming mug, "If you don't put a ring on it, pendejo..."

Diego nearly drops the mug as his closest confidante walks off into the living room.

Shit, Julio is right.

#damnit diego #murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #zash writes #some whiplash #feels and dick #dick and feels

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years

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Welcome to the Back (Part 11)

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Lila knew the situation was getting out of hand, even before she heard Ladybug reveal that they weren’t friends. At this point, she had already escaped the school and hidden outside, where she was in no danger to be seen by Sentiquill.

“Stupid Ladybug!”, she muttered as she walked home, not bothering to check up on the others or return to school. Even after she saw the Miraculous Cure flash through the sky, her pace didn’t slow. She needed time to think of a fitting lie, and the fallout of today’s akuma would be enough to deal with tomorrow. Ugh, she hated Paris! You could never know what happened next, never plan ahead!

She groaned.

To be fair, the akuma attack was actually kind of convenient this time. It gave her a chance to check up on her looks at home, prepare for the meeting this afternoon. There was no second chance for the first impression, after all!

So when she entered the TV1 tower and flashed the employee ID she’d stolen from Mireille, she looked as professional as she could get.

René Bordeaux’s office was easy to find. His name was written on the door in bright, red letters and the voice that yelled into a phone on the other side was iconic. With a confident smile, she knocked on the door. The voice fell silent, then yelled into the phone once more before hanging up. Angry footsteps advanced and the door was flung open.

“What is it?!”, a middle-aged man shouted. Lila scanned him quickly. Carefully styled, blond-dyed hair. There was a hint of grey in his roots, something he obviously meant to hide. Scared of aging probably.

His suit looked brand new, but was a little too short on the ankles, she noticed and drew her conclusions: He valued luxury and tried to intimidate with pricy clothes, but didn’t actually know a lot about fashion and likely bought whatever looked the most expensive. He had sideburns, for God’s sake. 60’s nostalgia? Probably wanted to go back to “the good old days” his dad had talked about wistfully when he was young. She wondered if he was right-wing. A Control freak, judging by the meticulously organized room behind him, and he was single given the lacking photos of a girlfriend on his desk. Or photos of anything other than himself in general. There was a wedding ring on his finger, even though Lila’s research had brought up his disastrous divorce of Evelyn Leanne, and that he hadn’t married since. His lack of reminders of Leanne in the office - reference to the photos - made her doubt he harbored any romantic sentiment for her. He was only bitter about being shunned, and about losing a perfect trophy family. Likely hadn’t accepted the divorce.

All these deductions only took her seconds to complete, René Bordeaux was an open book.

Her smile widened. So much potential!

“Oh, my apologies.”, she said sweetly. “I was looking for René Bordeaux, but if he’s not here yet-“

“I’m René Bordeaux! Why do you think would I be in this office, otherwise?!”

She gasped in false shock.

“You? But you look so young!”

The man blinked, thrown off his rhythm. His anger deflated and his raised hand dropped to his side.

“I... I guess!”

He caught himself and crossed his arms.

“Well, you have a point. But I hear that a lot, young Lady, so what do you want?”

Perfect.

“I am Lila Rossi.”, she introduced herself. “I called you yesterday, about the Journalism Junior contest you produce. A great idea, by the way.”

“Ah, yes, of course. What was that about again?”

Time to get bolder.

“May I come inside?”, she crooned. “This shouldn’t be discussed so out in the open. Wouldn’t want the public to hear of it.”

Now she had his attention. Bordeaux had made his money as a populist and paparazzi, a reporter known for his scandalous articles. He’d lost his job after the lawsuits last year, but his new position as chief editor of TV1 didn’t mean he had lost his lurid hunger for sensations - especially if he was the first one to know.

He huffed, but stepped back to let her in. The view out of the window front was fantastic, but she wasn’t here to marvel at the city. So she came straight to the point.

“I am a great fan of you work!”, she lied. “Especially your article after the Leanne-Agreste Show Disaster. Your concern about your son’s well being was very inspiring for me. I wish I had a father like that.”

She was glad she didn’t have a father like that, but Bordeaux didn’t need to know that. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Am I supposed to be flattered?”, he grumbled, but his chest visibly swoll with pride. “What does this have to do with the contest?”

Her shoulders dropped in concern.

“Monsieur Bordeaux, I don’t know how to tell you this, but... See, Felix is in my class, and I am very concerned about him. I wanted to do my report on him, but what I found during my research worries me.”

He’s a control freak, she remembered, and he has no real sentiment towards his family. He only cares about reputations.

“He’s surrounding himself with all the wrong people, and when I - as the class representative - wanted to warn his mother, she brushed me off as if she didn’t care at all.”

Bordeaux tried to hide his interest, but there was a spark of hunger in his eyes. He was sensing a chance.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. See, our class is very... diverse.”

If he leaned to right side of politics, the word would repulse him.

“There’s people like Felix, Adrien Agreste, the mayor’s daughter or me in our class, who are well educated and come from the right families. But there are also... less fortunate people. Like Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng for example, who has great influence over your son.”

He flinched at the foreign last name, just as expected. His face had turned sour.

“What are you saying?”

“I say, Felix needs you.”, she catered to his ego. “He has no father figure, no role model. His mother lets him do whatever he wants, not caring about his future or who might take advantage of him. He has an unhealthy amount of freedoms, and just this morning, he fell victim to Hawkmoth!”

Bordeaux’s hands twitched and his eyes widened.

“An akuma was after my heir?! Who was it? I need names!”

“Oh no, he was akumatized himself.”, she informed him smugly. He muttered something about bad publicity, then looked up again.

“What was the reason? His mother? He’s ridiculously devoted to her.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”, she lied. “He was alone with Dupain-Cheng when it happened.”

She sighed, then put enough urgency in her voice to make even herself cringe.

“He really needs someone who knows what’s best for him, who can look out for him and will set him limits. He needs you!”

Bordeaux scoffed and paced through his office.

“Do you think I didn’t try to save this family?! Evelyn won’t let me near them anymore, and Felix would rather live like a pauper before going against her.”

Lila smiled.

“I know.”

Her schemes were finally going somewhere.

“But I might have a solution for you.”

When Adrien came to school the next day, he felt numb. There was no Plagg at his side, no ring on his finger, no sense of freedom in his chest as he walked up to the entrance. Everything felt hollow. How could everyone be this carefree when his entire world had been uprooted yesterday? Didn’t they feel the shift in the air, the tension in the room? Chat Noir had vanished, yet nobody seemed to mind.

“Dude, there you are!”, Nino greeted him from a bench at side, surrounded by his classmates. “We were worried sick about you, yesterday! Did you see the Akuma Attack? We were all working with Ladybug, it was so cool!”

Adrien flinched, before stomping over to them.

“Really?”, he asked, trying to suppress his fury. “That sounds awesome! I was busy looking for Chat Noir, in case you wanted to know! So he could get back to protecting Ladybug.”

If Nino noticed how passive-aggressive he sounded, he only shrugged.

“Man, didn’t you hear? It was all over the news last night.”

Adrien frowned in confusion.

“Huh?”

“Yeah!”, Alix chimed in. “Chat Noir is cancelled!”

His blood ran cold. Did they... did they know he had lost his ring?!

“Look at this.”, Alya demanded and showed him her phone, playing a video on the Ladyblog. “Nino filmed this, since I was taken out.”

His eyes widened when he recognized the scenery. It was filmed from under the stairs, but Sentiquill and Ladybug were perfectly clear to see. His Lady held the Akuma in place with her yo-yo, ordering Chat to help. Alya was snorting with anger when the hero refused, leaving Rose at Sentiquill’s mercy.

“Can you believe it?!”, she seethed when the camera panned to Ladybug’s pained face, who apologized for rejecting him before asking for his help again. “He made her beg! He let Rose be drained for ink, just so he could force her into his stupid power play! And her apology?”

She scoffed.

“I can’t believe he would ask that of her! As if she owed him anything for rejecting him!”

“Don’t forget the part where he almost killed Ladybug!”, Chloé spoke up. “If I ever see his ugly ass face again, I won’t need a Miraculous to rip him apart.”

“But,” Adrien stammered, “We don’t know the whole story! Maybe he had a valid reason to-“

Chloé laughed and pinched his cheek.

“Oh, silly Adrikins. I always forget how little experience you have with people.”

Kim nodded.

“Yeah, if you get rejected, no matter how, you gotta accept it. Doesn’t mean you gotta take any shit” - he glared at Chloé, who had the decency to look ashamed - “But you sure have no right to pressure her into anything. And demanding an apology for saying no?”

He clicked his tongue.

“That guy definitely wasn’t present for Mendeleiev‘s lesson on consent.”

“He abandoned Rose.”, Juleka murmured from the background, holding her unusually quiet girlfriend’s hand. “I’ll never forgive him for that.”

Adrien gulped.

“Well, Miraculous Ladybug always undoes every harm, right?”

“Cut it, Adrien!”, Alya snarled at him all of a sudden. Everyone fell silent. The reporter blinked, then leaned back a little to regain control of herself.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”, she mumbled, staring at nothing. “What it felt like. Just because Ladybug can cure everyone doesn’t mean she can undo what happened to us.”

Nino put his arm around her and she relaxed a little. When she looked at Adrien again, she was as composed as always.

“I’ve never been more terrified than yesterday.”, she stated firmly. “And it was even worse for Rose, judging by how much ink Sentiquill got out of her. Chat could have spared her that, but he chose not to. To him, each of us was less important than getting back at Ladybug. Just for not catering to his whims.”

She shook her head.

“If Ladybug doesn’t kick his ass, Rena Rouge will.”

“Uh, I literally said it first.”, Chloé complained. “Tell Fox girl to stand in line, Queen Bee is the one that’s going to kick that mangy cat into orbit!”

As the others broke out in a fight of who would have the best chance to beat up Chat Noir - Sabrina stood eerily still in the corner, saying something about a knife and Chat’s eyes - Adrien slipped out of the yard. It felt like the entire universe was against him! Everything came crashing down around him, no one took his side anymore-

“Adrien?”, a voice behind him asked and he turned around to see Lila. “Are you alright?”

He swallowed down his feelings.

“Yeah”, he croaked. “Just worried. Ladybug told everyone about you, classes are going to be... tense.”

He sighed. He might not be Chat Noir right now, but he was still Adrien Agreste, Bustier’s sunshine boy. He had to keep the peace as far as possible.

“You need to come clean.”, he suggested. “Apologize and tell them the truth about everything, then maybe, this will blow over soon.”

And maybe Marinette would be his friend again. This whole Lila-mess had only harmed them all, it was time to set things right.

Lila nodded.

“Of course, you are so right.”

She smiled weakly.

“I know I never told you this, but you are a great friend. Thank you for protecting me as long as you could. I really wish people would listen to you more, you’re so thoughtful!”

He looked up.

“You think so?”

She nodded, patting his shoulders.

“They can’t see it, but I do.”, she assured him. “You do so much for your friends. You prevent them from harming themselves, from destroying the harmonic atmosphere. They can be grateful to call you their friend.”

He blushed a bit, flattered. And relieved. Finally someone that appreciated all his hard work!

Lila sighed and walked towards the yard.

“I’m really sorry you’ll be dragged into this mess, Adrien.”

He stiffened. Wait, what?

“What do you mean?”

She stopped to look at him, surprised.

“Well, if I tell them the truth about everything, I’ll have to tell them you knew everything from the start. You and I know it was only for their own good that you didn’t expose me, but they... You’ll be pulled into this inevitably. Things will likely be horrible for you for a while, maybe you’ll even lose some friends. Nino, Alya, Chloé... I don’t think they’ll understand you were doing the right thing.”

His mind was running wild. No! He already had them badmouthing Chat Noir in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to bear it if they hated him as Adrien too!

“Lila, wait!”, he called when she moved to walk on. “Maybe... Maybe there’s another way. To keep everyone calm. We can think of something, I’ll help you!”

She smiled.

“You would do that for me? You’re so sweet.”

Her eyes glistened eagerly.

“I think I already have an idea.”

“How are you feeling?”, Felix asked her. They stood in front of the classroom, hesitating to go inside. But Marinette had enough of fearing confrontation. Chat, Adrien, Lila, all of them were people she didn’t want to run from anymore. It was time to walk her way and hope that her friends would have her back. But she was through with waiting for problems to resolve on their own.

“Well enough.”, she replied. “And you?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t remember much of what happened, and I generally don’t care what others think of me. But...”

He sighed.

“I did hurt people. Not consciously, but it still happened because of me.”

Marinette couldn’t say anything against that, so she simply took his hand. Whether for his comfort or her own, she didn’t know.

“Come on.”, she said. “I’m sure they’ll understand, and... It’s not like Lila will be a problem anymore, at least! So let’s get this over with.”

With that, she opened the door and walked inside. Only to see Lila surrounded by their classmates.

“Marinette!”, she called. “Just in time. I was just telling everyone how Ladybug saved me again, yesterday.”

Marinette felt her eyes twitch.

“Ladybug- You- I-“, she pressed out, wanting to throttle her. How was it possible that she just sat here as if nothing happened?! Things were supposed to be different now!

Felix nudged her hand and she looked up to him. He nodded at the rest of the class with his chin, and her eyes followed his gesture. They weren’t hanging on her every word as she had feared. No, Chloé wasn’t even listening, filing her nails with an occasional roll of her eyes. Alya sat next to an angry Nino, arms crossed. Juleka’s eyes were shooting daggers at Lila.

All in all, the class looked suspicious. Not enthralled and excited, but almost annoyed. An improvement!

“Ya better hurry to give us a damn good explanation, girl!”, Alya growled. “Because I have Lb’s statement on video, and I won’t hesitate to post it online!”

Lila gave her a surprised glance.

“What are you talking about? Did I do something wrong?”

Nino glowered at her.

“That’s a damn bold question, Lie-la! Ladybug told us everything.”

His girlfriend raised her phone, playing Ladybug’s fight against Sentiquill.

“But fine!”, Marinette heard her alter ego shout. “If it makes you happy!” Then she started to rant about Lila, who looked suspiciously calm.

“Well”, she shrugged when the sequence was over, “she really went all out, didn’t she?”

“What do you mean?”

Lila chuckled.

“I mean, just look at her face! So disdainful, so authentic! A great actress, really!”

Alya faltered a bit.

“Actress?”

“Of course!”, she laughed. “Ladybug was obviously trying to placate Sentiquill, as we all know Felix doesn’t like me since our little misunderstanding. A bummer it didn’t work, but I guess she isn’t perfect either.”

She sighed and straightened herself.

“Ladybug told me to flee, since the Akuma was after me specifically. I would have stayed with you otherwise, and helped to defend you against Sentiquill. But she knew if I was nearby, he’d go after me and then Ladybug would be distracted. She cares so much about me, her worry for my wellbeing would have interfered with her ability to think straight.”

Alya frowned.

“How do we know this isn’t another lie? It’s your word against Ladybug’s, and you haven’t proven anything!”

Pondering, Lila tapped her finger against her chin.

“Hm, let’s see... Adrien! You saw us; you can be my witness, right?”

Everybody turned around and Marinette’s eyes widened. Adrien stood at the window, looking weary but determined. Surely he wouldn’t... He had covered for Lila before, true, but to lie on her behalf...

Her hopes sunk when he avoided eye contact with her.

“It’s true.”, he stated flatly. “I saw them talk after the battle. Ladybug...” He gulped. “Ladybug apologized for saying all these things, but it was only to protect her.”

“That’s not true!”, Marinette howled furiously. “What are you even saying, Adrien?!”

He looked away, pouting.

“Stop shouting at me. It’s the truth! I saw them when I was on my way... on my way-“

“-to accompany me to Jagged Stone!”, Lila finished for him, a smug look on her face. “I invited him along because he was so rattled after the akuma attack. To cheer him up! Jagged is the best when it comes to lighten the mood, right, Adrien?”

“Uh... yeah!”, the blond agreed hesitantly, obviously confused. “Totally! I, er, can confirm.”

Marinette’s eyes burned into his spineless figure, seething with rage. This had been his chance. For someone that preferred inactivity when it came to his friends, he was all too quick to stand up for a liar.

“So... it was all true?”, Alya dared to hope. “You really are Ladybug’s friend, and you know Jagged Stone?”

“Don’t forget Prince Ali, but yes. I’d never lie to you, Alya!”, Lila reassured. “Everything I said is true.”

Felix took a step forward, opening his mouth to protest, but Marinette put her hand on his chest to stop him.

“Don’t.”, she whispered, forcibly cooling down her anger to a simmering hatred. “They win this round.”

Everything Felix could say now would only further Lila’s victim role, and they had no proof right now. It would be a waste of time.

Felix clenched his teeth, but nodded. To their surprise, the others weren’t done yet.

“I don’t believe you.”, Juleka mumbled and Lila’s face fell.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, I don’t believe you!”, the goth shouted, startling everyone. Rose was clutching her hand like a lifeline as her girlfriend looked up, tears in her eyes. “When Sentiquill went after Rose, Ladybug didn’t hesitate to do the logical thing and save me first, even if that meant making herself vulnerable. I know she cares about Rose, but when push came to shove, she was still able to think tactical. God knows I didn’t like her decision, but it was what saved both of us.”

Lila narrowed her eyes.

“Juleka, you sound like you wanted her to sacrifice Rose! Do you really care so little about-“

“Shut up!”, Rose cried out. Marinette wasn’t sure she had ever seen her this upset. “That’s not what she meant, and you know it!”

“Are you two calling me a liar?”

Juleka shot her a glare.

“I’m saying that I trust Ladybug. She’s able to do her job, no matter the circumstances and who might be at stake. She cares about all of us and doesn’t play favorites. If your word’s against hers, we know where we’ll stand.”

She nudged Rose, who nodded. Together they walked towards the door, but stopped when they passed Marinette and Felix.

“I don’t blame you for anything.”, Rose murmured to him so that only they could hear it. “I know what it feels like to be controlled like that. To be forced to hurt people you care about. We’re all used to it by now, you’re not alone.”

Then they walked out.

The class only recovered slowly. Many regarded Lila with distrust, most were unsure. Even Alya, who was only too desperate to believe Lila, had her doubts.

Felix gave her an encouraging smile.

“Looks like things are in motion.”

Marinette nodded, tearing her gaze from Adrien.

“I think it’s time to move on as well.”, she confessed. “To leave old burdens behind.”

She thought of Chat Noir.

“To make a clear cut.”

Marinette was busy this afternoon.

Doing homework.

Changing her computer’s background.

Putting the finishing touch on the cravat she designed for Felix.

Feeding Tikki a macaron she’d made for Adrien.

Preparing an outline for her report.

Ripping Adrien’s pictures off her wall.

Playing video games with her parents.

Taking the chest with her gifts for Adrien to Prince Ali’s charity for sick children.

Calling Felix.

Clearing her calendar of Adrien’s appointments.

Crying a bit.

Calling Felix again.

Feeling better.

When it was evening, she finally ran out of things to do. And that meant, she had nothing to distract her from her own thoughts. That wouldn’t do.

“I’m going out for a walk!”, she told her parents as she bounced down the stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Be careful!”, her mother replied and waved. “And be back before dinner!”

“Don’t you want to take something to eat with you? Or a jacket? Or-“

“Tom.”

“Oh, right. Uh, have fun!”

Marinette chuckled at her parents difference. She’d always wanted to be in a relationship like theirs: one of mutual respect, but with room for silliness and fun. To have someone that was so different from her, but shared enough of her passions and values to match. A partnership of equals, that wouldn’t waver or fade when things got difficult. Someone who inspired her to grow. Someone who wasn’t afraid to learn from her as well.

She had thought that was Adrien. Part of her might even have considered Chat Noir - the yin yang symbolic hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. But her mother had explained her for what the Taijitu truly stood: not an eternal battle of opposites, but the harmonic completion of two contrasts, the ever changing nature of the world. Chat Noir wasn’t someone who completed her, and neither was Adrien. They had only brought her misery when they should have supported her.

She sighed as she walked through the park, the half moon rising above her. Black and white.

Her mother had often used the Taiji symbol to comfort her when she’d had one of her streaks of bad luck. It’s natural to have a hard time once in a while, she’d said. But see? The darkness recedes eventually and makes room for the light. It’s a circuit, and soon things will get better for you as well. Until then? Just search for the tiny white dot. The beacon in the darkness, it’s there!

Marinette leaned her head back, watching the darkening sky.

The light in her darkness? That was Felix. The only constant support she had these days. The one whose mere presence cheered her up, gave her the strength to keep going. It was so weird, now that she thought about it. He was so... harsh. Like a bright fire that could blind and burn mercilessly, but somehow drew her in like a moth to his flame. Like the sun, that could bring people’s worst flaws to daylight, or illuminate strengths she hadn’t even known she had. He had been both demanding and eager to give, from the very beginning. Forcing her to put her self-imposed limits aside and stand up for herself, but supporting her when he knew she needed it. In return, he had opened himself to her, learned to trust and bond with others. She’d never been more proud than when he had befriended Aurore, despite their rocky start. Or when he tried to dial his bluntness down around Marc, because he knew the boy was sensitive.

He had impressed her. Everything about him was challenging and inspiring and soothing at once. She’d never liked herself more than when she was around him. And when she wasn’t, she found herself thinking about him constantly.

Even now, musing over their influence on each other brought a smile to her lips and lightened her steps until she all but floated through the park. Now that she thought about it, she liked the feeling a lot. More than a lot. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost say she lo-

“Marinette”, Tikki called her from her purse. “I sense someone. Wayzz is nearby!”

She looked up, searching the park for the familiar hawaiian shirt. Indeed, it was the guardian himself that stood in front of the fountain, hands clasped in front of him. Curious, she walked up beside him.

“Good evening, Master Fu!”, she greeted. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the stomach?”

The elder man gave her a sullen side glance.

“I thought we had agreed to never talk of that again.”

She chuckled and followed his gaze to the fountain.

“Did we? I don’t recall!”

He didn’t smile, but his wrinkled forehead relaxed a bit. Weird. Usually, he was a lot more eager to joke around, given he had so little company to do that with.

“Is something the matter? You look upset.”

Fu sighed.

“Sharp as always. I am concerned for you, for Ladybug’s safety.”

Her face grew serious.

“That’s a concern I can understand.”, she muttered. “I nearly died yesterday. It was that close!”

Fu nodded.

“I saw.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything?”, she snapped, forgetting herself. “I needed help, and you could have given that to me!”

Her master lowered his head, eyes fixed on the water.

“Because I am weak.”, he admitted. “And a coward. And not the guardian you deserve.”

He looked so old when he rubbed his forehead, almost ancient.

“In my defense, if I had known the situation was this terrible, I would have taken the miracle box with me. Or at least the Turtle, Fox or Bee. Alas, I was only aware of Chat Noir’s miraculous turning dark, and thought that we would be enough to handle him. I didn’t expect the akuma.”

“Wait...”, she slowed him down. “Chat’s Miraculous was abused? Like... Like the butterfly is?”

Fu didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand to reveal what he held inside. A black ring, complete with a familiar green paw print.

“His miraculous!”, she whispered in awe, then turned towards the guardian. “What did you do?! When did you do that?”

“Immediately after you purified Sentiquill’s akuma.”, he stated wearily. “And that was already far too late. I should have taken it after Syren, Frozer maybe. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

She felt a pang in her chest that she had lost her partner of almost a year, but it was overshadowed by an euphoric sense of relieve. She hadn’t noticed how much Chat had troubled her until she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. No more fear to hurt his feelings, no more dancing around the truth to avoid upsetting him. No more tantrums and reckless sacrifices. No more pressure to feel something she just... didn’t.

“I want you to have it.”, Fu continued and raised his hands when she wanted to protest. “Not for yourself, of course! Marinette, I have chosen solitude as the safest way to protect the miraculous, and for a while, it worked. But times changed.”

He breathed out, his posture slouching in shame.

“Times changed, and I didn’t. Chat Noir is the proof that I am no longer fit to distribute powers like his. But you? You have proven time and again that your trust in others is well deserved, that your choices are wise.”

His voice was full of warmth and trust.

“You have to be the one to choose a new partner, Ladybug.”, he announced firmly. “Someone you can trust not to disappoint you. It’s about time you get a say in this, don’t you think?”

She stared at the ring, so caught up in an electrifying kind of awe that she couldn’t really process his words. This was the Miraculous of destruction, the other half to her powers. If she took it, she would hold more power in her hands than should be humanly possible. What if something happened to her? What if she lost it, what if Hawkmoth got his hands on it? As long as it had no wielder, it would remain in this state and show its true colors. Everyone would be able to recognize it!

“A-are you sure you want me to have this?”, she asked with a trembling voice. Master Fu smiled.

“I have made a lot of reckless decisions. This is not one of them.”

He held the ring out to her.

“I trust you, Marinette. And I know Ladybug will chose better than I did.”

Hesitantly, carefully as if it might burn her, she took the Miraculous from his hands. It was warm in her hands, as if it were alive.

“I won’t disappoint you.”, she promised Fu, her eyes blazing with determination. She wouldn’t take this lightly, wouldn’t fail him. This time, her Chat Noir would be a hero.

- - -

Phew, done. I don't know much about Daoism, and only just started to research the philosophy behind yin and yang (or the Taijitu), but I really wanted Marinette to be more in touch with her heritage. Mama Cheng spilled her wisdom, and little Marinette sucked it up like a sponge.

#miramu writes #welcome to the back #wttb #felinette fanfic #felinette #miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml felix

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