#one of my sisters is literally sleeping in my room tonight because the leaks after the storm soak her mattress

[vithcy]

Seeing pretty living spaces makes me yearn so much :(

[five-rivers]

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

.

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

.

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

[anigerrrr]

Girl’s Talk

Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Kamala is introduced to Yelena, and she’s also the biggest fan of her sister’s ship- CarolNat.

Warning: Fluff, Protective Yelena, Kamala ships CarolNat, Slight Thor/Loki(mentioned)

a/n: Just random pieces written after having my covid vaccine yesterday lol I’m not sure how will Marvel deal with Kamala’s superpower in the upcoming series so I only mention a bit of it. Enjoy!

/

“Ok, can anyone tell me why we always have a new kid in the compound?”

Yelena puffed as she entered the compound a bit later than usual, and she saw her sister, Carol and an unfamiliar teenager already standing there.

She came over to join them, gazing at the new girl with distrust.

“Yelena, did you just call yourself in the third person?” Carol teased, and she shrugged suggestively to the redhead who actually couldn’t hold her laugh back for this moment.

“Ha, is it some kind of 90’s joke?” Yelena retaliated. Apparently the younger blonde didn’t get enough sleep hours last night, it always resulted in her grumpy reactions to anybody. “If so, Captain, you really need to update your comedy list on Netflix.”

“Hey,” Natasha chuckled amusedly between the two blonde women as Carol protested, “just because I aged slowly, it didn’t mean I’m out of date.”

“In case you wanna know,” Natasha raised one brow and showed her support to the blonde Captain- “She actually likes to watch The Tonight Show during our dinner time.”

-by telling their sort-of secret aloud. It’s not gonna harm the redhead spy herself, though.

“What?” Kamala finally had a chance to let out her voice, “you can’t tell me the mighty Captain Marvel, my idol, watches late-night talk shows when having some spaghetti. It’s simply out of character.”

Carol frowned, “excuse me?”

“Ugh, ok.” Yelena opened her mouth with hesitation. “No, not ok, I don’t get it. Did you just call her- ” her head was pointing to the other blonde woman, “- your idol ?”

“Am I supposed to feel offended?” Carol mumbled nearby Natasha’s ear, lowering her voice to avoid any foreseeable conflict for now.

“Um, yeah.” Kamala rolled her eyes to the much taller woman standing right in front of her, and her voice sounded genuinely fearless. “Can’t you see that? She’s Carol Danvers!”

Natasha grinned back at the blonde woman, and only teased quietly, “see, someone really has a crush on you.”

Carol blushed in the tiniest way, opening her mouth slightly but had no idea what to argue. Our Captain couldn’t even tell if the redhead was seriously jealous. Fantastic.

“So you like the name or the glowing part?” Yelena hummed, and tried to hide the little noises from her stomach out of hunger.

“All of them, I guess?”

“Oh, I got it now.” The younger widow turned to her sister, and was not surprised that Natasha had been checking on her already. “We’re having a superhero fan tour here.”

Yelena wanted to get her breakfast as soon as possible, so she tried to be nice and not to get involved in this duty. “Enjoy your day then, just don’t touch any fluffy things around here. The cat can literally swallow people, and the raccoon will shoot you in the head.”

“What? No!” The brown haired girl shouted, “I’m not here for a tour.”

“Yelena, she’s a new member in the team- ” Agent Romanoff finally introduced, and took a quick glance at Carol with a playful smile. “- another one with super power, yes.”

“…wait, what?”

“Not that kind of power to control thunder like Thor or to trick like Loki- by the way, aren’t they a lovely couple?” Kamala explained a little bit, and suddenly changed the subject triggered by her interest.

“Ugh, it’s not officially announced.” Natasha was surprised to hear the little girl’s words, a status that not many people had learned about- even in the avengers’ team.

Impressed. Yelena stared at the kid and thought, still needed her breakfast, though.

“New kids.” Carol shrugged, “we’re actually talking about tomorrow’s mission.”

The redhead immediately started glaring at the blonde Captain.

“You’re leaving for days? Tomorrow?” And Yelena tiled her head to her older sister. She’d better not be the last person to know this.

Clearly someone had forgotten their domestic plan for tomorrow.

“Well, not ‘for days’,  I’ll be back before you know it. At least that was the plan.” Natasha looked a bit…nervous, but not speechless. By her side, the Captain who’s in charge of the mission seemed to be awkward for a minute, and they shared a look of silent communication.

“Yelena, you’re welcomed to- ”

“Uh- uh, no. I’m not interested in being the third wheel in your mission date. Besides, I’ve got my own thing to deal with as well. Just remember to pick me up at 8, and feed Fanny before you leave the house, it’s your turn.” Yelena shook her head quickly like nothing’s gonna convince her, and the other young superhero goggled upon hearing some keywords.

“Wait, you two are dating? ” Kamala asked in excitement, “oh my god, CarolNat is real.”

“Well, it’s- we’re…” the blonde Captain suddenly stuttered, “we’re close, yes. That’s true.”

Natasha rolled her eyes back to show her feedback towards Carol’s explanation, and refused to make any eye contact with her sister who just accidentally sold their privacy to the newest avenger.

“Oh, I thought that was your superpower.” Yelena shrugged to the two older women, kind of feeling sorry for the coming out declaration she made for them. “Like, telling the lovebirds in a group of people.”

Kamala gave her a ‘seriously?’ look, “nobody owns a superpower like that.”

“You never can tell.”

“Ok, things got a little tense here.” Carol tried to calm them both down before they made a wrong impression on each other. “It’s time for breakfast, how about I make you guys some really nice omelette?”

“Oh God.” Natasha sighed exaggeratedly, but she didn’t deny the purpose. When Carol turned, she just pushed her sister’s shoulder and forced the younger blonde to follow. “C’mon Yelena, you love eggs.”

“I never said that.”

“Wow, Captain Marvel is making me an omelette…am I dreaming?”

“Never had a nightmare before?”

“Yelena!”

*

“So…”

A half hour later, Yelena was staring at her plate and trying to figure out why it’s not like a normal ‘omelette’ she had seen on television. “In what universe an omelette looks like this?”

“Well, it’s not that bad.” Natasha took a bite of hers, perfectly ignoring the fact that it resembled more scrambled eggs rather than an omelette.

“Stop being rude- ”As they both saw Carol and Kamala on their way to the table, Natasha squeezed her sister’s hand and ordered softly, “and tomorrow I promise to buy you the expensive tweed coat you always stare at in the display window.”

“Huh, it’s exactly why I really can’t stand to undergo a mission with you two. Deal.” Yelena sounded mockingly but she didn’t mean to embarrass her anyway. “You turned weak, Natasha. You knew it, right?”

Natasha only hummed in russian as a response (something like ‘you’d know that when we spar’ ), and grinned when Carol sat next to her as usual. The blonde Captain was finally done with cooking everyone’s breakfast and Kamala had surprisingly finished hers, only sipping a glass of apple juice.

“So, how did you meet?” Said Kamala, aka the newest avenger with extraordinary attention to the secret pairs around the base, “how long have you been dating- I wanna know the whole story.”

“Here we go.” This was the best reaction for Yelena to ‘stop being rude’.

“Well, first of all, I won’t deny or admit any statement of it…” Natasha cleaned her throat and started, her sweet butter sandwich was left on the plate.

“We’re apparently colleagues.” Carol promptly interrupted with a shrug, which made the redhead widen her green eyes in disbelief.

“I met her after the snap, and during the five years, the feelings just kinda grew on us.” The blonde smiled gently as she took Natasha’s hand, “after the end of the war, we started hanging out once a month like normal people, later on it began to be once a week as my main works in space were separated to the new-trained protectors and the Guardians. That’s it.”

Kamala was literally speechless, looking like she just got the best Christmas gift for this year.

“If you kiss her like those cliched soap operas now, I’m gonna kill you both.” Yelena did like the eggs, but obviously she wouldn’t say it. Instead, she ate it up and mumbled her statement after hearing the shorter version of their romance.

“Yelena.” Natasha raised one of her brows, reminding her who’s in charge on this table. And their deals .

“Alright, just kidding.”

“Can I take a picture when you do that?” Kamala immediately stood up and asked Carol, it seemed no one actually cared about the debriefing of tomorrow’s mission anymore. “-when you kiss Black Widow.”

Her Captain was flushed, “w-what?”

To save her partner from the short circus situation, Natasha rolled her eyes and pulled Carol’s arm all in a sudden. All Kamala could do was open her mouth widely in amazement, and tried hard not to scream like a fan who was completely out of control.

Natasha left a rough kiss on the corner of Carol’s lips, her blood red lipstick stained slightly on it.

“Satisfied?” She said with an impeccable grin, leaving the flummoxed blonde behind her.

“This place is harmful for my heart.” - the newest superhero from Jersey City claimed.

“You’re gonna get used to it, kid.” - and the former widow from the red room finally agreed with her.

“I should have stopped leaking the key information.” - the blonde Captain knew it deeply that Natasha’s not gonna take it easy on her tonight.

[katsukis-sad-angel]

Shouto Todoroki as a Boyfriend

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Summary: can you guess? The title!!

Warnings: not-nice words, little bit of angst, mentions of self-harm, fluff, a really really really corny joke

BF Scenarios Tag List:

@thedreadthreadanomaly​

HMU if you wanna be added!!

look at his fucking biceps OH MY GOD AAAAAAAAAAAA

The tank top?? Shit, please wear the more often

--

It all started one fateful day when you caught him staring at you from across the lunch table

You set down your chopsticks

“Todoroki, is there something on my face?”

“You’re beautiful.”

The whole table goes absolutely silent and Mina and Midoriya choke on their food at the exact same time 

“... What?”

“You look really cute when you chew. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No… no one has. Th-Thanks, Todoroki.”

Then the heterochromatic boy went back to his soba

Later on, he realizes what he’s feeling for you is called ‘love’ and asks you out

Shouto is aloof but affectionate and very attentive

It takes time for him to trust you because he hasn’t had anyone he can really depend on in a while

You’re one of the only people besides his sister and brother that has shown any appreciation or love toward him so it won’t take him too long to warm up to you

When he does, he will talk about his past

These moments that you have with him, when he reveals his sad, shadowy past, they’re really important. It’s what makes Shouto, Shouto. He would really appreciate being able to tell you these things because when he does, it feels like a huge weight off his chest

Shouto might have nightmares from time to time, waking up yelling “No! Don’t hurt her! S-Stop, stop!” and breaking into a cold sweat

He might ask you, “Do I act like… him?” “Am I gonna turn out like Endeavor?”

No bby. Never.

Shouto is really protective. After seeing his mother abused and Natsuo and Fuyumi ignored, he doesn’t want you to feel like your alone, or unloved, or unprotected

That’s why, when he sees an over-confident looking asshole saunter up to you and you step back timidly, he’s gonna take action and tell the bitch to fuck off

The guy isn’t gonna be around for very long when he finds out ‘the son of endeavor’ is your boo

BUT here’s the thing; Shouto doesn’t know how godly and hot he is, so make sure you remind him

I mean, you are the one that helped him accept himself!

He’s a “one date a week” kind of guy

Cold soba with shouto → lady and the tramp style

PDA is a thing → hand-holding and cuddling on the couch in the common room

He might grab your face and kiss you to get a reaction out of Bakugou

Sho likes to play with your hands

When he’s tired he’s gonna smoosh his face into your chest, tummy, or thighs

Shouto is a chapstick d00d

Lips → soft and pretty and fun to kiss

Shouto’s pet names for you can be; princess, beautiful, babe, gorgeous, and baby girl

He likes to take you on walks at night because the cool night air helps him clear his mind

You’re always trying to make him crack a smile and he can’t help but grin when you tell him a terrible pun or joke no matter how hard he tries

“Hey Sho, what do sharks put on their sandwiches?”

“What?”

“Peanut butter and jellyfish!”

“Oh my god Y/n.”

Your presence is calming to your boyfriend. That’s why he insists you sleep in the same bed. (as long as your ok with that. sho wouldn’t pressure you into anything. ever.) He needs you in his arms to fall asleep

“Y/n. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Why not?”

*cuddling ensues*

Ok… fights

Um

Shouto Todoroki is very strong-willed

It doesn’t matter what you did, he would never hit you. If you strike him, he won’t do it back. The only time he’d ever lay hand on you that wasn’t gentle, would be a firm shake on your shoulders to knock a little sense into you

Nothing more

If you’re hurting yourself, he might swat something out of your hands

If your crying, Shouto will wrap you in lots of blankets and sit with you until you tell him why your face is leaking

If you cry, he cries

Guilt tears at his poor heart until he literally cannot breathe when you don’t tell him right away because he’s worried he did something

“Y/n, what’s wrong princess? No, no don’t cry- It’s fine, you’re safe… Please stop crying…”

How could such a fucking angel do anything wrong? Shouto is innocence at its finest! god-tier muscles! Hot! Kind! Oblivious!

He loves you so fucking much

If you’re hurting so is he

To make things better, he will literally do anything; spend his father’s massive fortune, cuddle for weeks on end, therapy, dates, food, ANYTHING to make you happy again

His scar… oof that’s definitely a topic I need to cover

Even after having it for years, Sho is still really insecure about it. When people (reporters and such) mention it to him you can visibly see his mood drop

One time, he was going to be in a movie, and his makeup person said “Alright Mr. Todoroki! Now let’s cover up that disgusting scar.”

He almost cried

When he told you what happened, you were livid

I dragged him to the studio at two in the morning and chewed out the director for a while with Sho standing behind you, holding you back

“Disgusting? Seriously? My boyfriend is a fucking GOD compared to you, you nasty, retarded, tone-deaf, dickhead-”

“Y/N! Calm down!”

You weren’t letting your precious Shouto act in any more movies. He had a career to focus on anyway

[bangtanstrawberrycheesecake]

S.Experiments (M)

➾ pairing: min yoongi x oc

➾ genre: step sibling, smut

➾ word count: 3k

➾ summary: It started from innocent curiousity. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

chapter two:

Two weeks has passed since that anatomy lesson and Yoongi and Soo Jin has been spending time as usual. It didn’t change their relationship and they were still hanging out all the time, going to movies after school, sleeping in one another’s room if one of them were too tired to go back to their own room after binge watching variety shows episodes etc. They even talk about that day as a joke now, calling it Yoongi and Soo Jin’s anatomy class.

Yoongi really thought that anatomy lesson was going to be the last and only until Soo Jin prove him wrong when she barges into his room at 1 am on a Friday night. She woke the sleeping Yoongi and somehow lure him into the same exact situation, telling him it’s anatomy class time and there’s a few things she’s curious of today and wanted to try with him and he can’t say no because she stole his hard disk that contains all the songs he produces while he was showering this afternoon and if he said no she’s going to throw it to the school pool. 

Honestly, she didn’t even need to threaten him anymore to give in to this anatomy lesson because even though Yoongi looks like he absolutely hates this idea, he's actually pretty curious about what she wanted to try today. But yeah, he’s going to play along and act as if he’s doing this only because he doesn’t want his precious hard disk 5 feet underwater.

“Okay so first, today my friends told me that guy’s nipples are really sensitive and I wanted to know if it’s true.” Soo Jin said as she pulls her pants down, revealing her cotton pink panties that has a brown cartoon bear head in the front. 

The room lamp was off and the only light illuminating was the nightstand lamp on the either side of Yoongi’s bed but it was bright enough for Yoongi to see Soo Jin clearly. Yoongi lift his brow at the sight, judging her unsexy choice of panties “Seriously? How old are you? Ten?”

“Shut up you’re one to talk when you’re wearing a dragon ball boxer.” Soo Jin roll her eyes and she heard Yoongi saying something like ‘dragon ball is cool’ but he shut up as soon as she took her panties off and Soo Jin swore she saw Yoongi’s Adam apple bob. 

Next, she’s urging him to lift his shirt before pulling down his boxers and Soo Jin was surprised to find Yoongi rock solid down below. “What? Don’t judge me, it’s natural reaction.” Yoongi muttered. Can she blame him though? He’s still a teenager after all and his body is going to react. 

“I’m not judging you idiot, I’m impressed.” Soo Jin cooed in awe as she felt the same thrill and excitement she felt two weeks ago. She pushes Yoongi so he’s laying completely down on his bed and he look at her with anticipation. Honestly, he didn’t know either if a guy’s nipple is sensitive or not, he never really plays with his own nipple.

He stares at Soo Jin as she sat beside him looking unsure what to do. “Aren’t you going to do anything?” Yoongi ask and Soo Jin hesitantly brought her thumb to rub on Yoongi’s left nipple and a weird feeling wash over Yoongi. His eyebrows knit together but he wasn’t moaning or anything. 

“How does it feel?” Soo Jin bit her lips, her other thumb was rubbing on his right nipple now and Yoongi felt both his nipple growing stiffer than it was before. “I don’t know?”

Soo Jin huff as she kept rubbing, “Seriously? Just tell me how you feel.” Yoongi shook his head in confusion, “I don’t know? It’s ticklish but I don’t know?” All Yoongi knows is that it wasn’t his cup of tea but he didn’t understand how to interpret the feeling. His dick was still rock-hard thought. Soo Jin let out a frustrated sigh at Yoongi’s not so helpful description.

“Can you be more specific? Is it good? How does it feel to have your nipples rubbed by someone?” She had stopped rubbing by now and she had her arms crossed. Eun Ji had told her how the guys she slept with had really sensitive nipples and how guys’ nips were sensitive in general but obviously it’s not the case for Yoongi right now. 

“Look how about you feel it for yourself because I can’t explain to you the feeling.” Yoongi said without thinking as he sat up and he watch as Soo Jin’s eyes light up in realization. Yoongi’s eyes widen when he realizes what he just suggested. 

Fuckkk he’s putting fuel to fire.

Honestly tonight he was only planning to let her see his dick again and yeah, he was also down to just stare at her pretty pussy for a while and then kick Soo Jin back to her room so he can jerk off before going back to sleep. 

But now he accidentally offers to play with her nipples and Soo Jin’s already taking her Pajamas shirt off and he can see her bra that has little brown bear head pattern on it and even though it’s the most unsexy bra Yoongi have ever seen he’s still so excited and there was no way he would back out from this.

Still, when Soo Jin actually unclasped her bra, Yoongi’s eyes automatically closes before he can see what’s underneath. 

“Omg stop being such a chicken Yoongi. You’re my best friend and we’re just experimenting.” Soo Jin whine as she plop down on the bed in the same position Yoongi was in a few minutes ago. Yoongi felt her tug on his arms and Yoongi try to assure himself that yeaaaahh they’re just experimenting and this is totally normal. They’re best friends and they promised to always help out each other. Inlcuding this...right?

“You’ve seen my pussy anyway. Boobs are nothing, stupid.” Soo Jin mumbled and that’s all Yoongi needed to hear before he opens his eyes. He was greeted with the sight of a naked Soo Jin laying down on his bed with her A size boobs exposed and her pink nipples all perky and Yoongi almost groan at how hot he thought she looks like even thought her boobs isn’t big but he still finds it so hot? It was the first real boobs Yoongi have ever seen and it’s right in front of him. 

Holy fuck there’s really a naked girl laying on his bed and Yoongi didn’t know how he can function normally now without getting a random boner if he sees his bed.

A part of him is screaming this naked girl is your step sister though bro but a part of him is also screaming back it’s STEP sister bro and Yoongi is literally having an inner turmoil but before he can think of backing out, Soo Jin took his hands and put it on her right boobs and Yoongi couldn’t hold back the grunt he let out. He was touching a real breast.

“Isn’t it soft?” Soo Jin giggle as she felt Yoongi squish her right boob and she watch as Yoongi’s mouth gape open. “Yeah it’s so soft…” His dick was leaking precum again by now and he can feel it drip down his length. “Can you rub my nipples now so I’ll know what you felt back then?” Soo Jin cooed and Yoongi gave her a nod as he began rubbing her right nipple with his right hands. Soo Jin gasp when she felt the sensation washes over her. 

A moan slips out of her mouth and Yoongi bit his lips. “Is it good?” Yoongi mutter as his left hand began playing with her left boobs and another moan slip pass Soo Jin’s lips. “Y-yes.”

Yeah, she had tried rubbing on her own nipple before but having another person touch her nipples? Yeah this is a whole another sensation.

“How can you not like this?” Soo Jin gasp as she enjoyed the feeling of Yoongi’s thumb on her nipples. Yoongi could feel the tips growing stiffer and he thought it was one of the hottest thing ever how her nipples were so damn sensitive.

 “Well I guess it’s different for each person.” Yoongi mumble absentmindedly, too focus on rubbing in attempt to get another moan out of her. He loved how responsive she was.

Soo Jin had her eyes closed by now, she could feel wetness pooling down below and her legs parted unconsciously. “Fuck you’re leaking.” Yoongi groan at the sight of Soo Jin with her legs spread out, clear liquid was seeping out of her tiny hole. 

A million dirty things flash through Yoongi’s mind and he had to momentarily stop his actions and remind himself that he’s only here to rub on her nipples for a minute, fulfill his weirdo best friend’s curiosity and that’s it. Nothing more nothing less.

“Alright we’re done here.” Yoongi stop all his action and stood up from the bed to find his boxer, he didn’t think he’ll still be sane enough to not do anything dumb if he was to keep playing this game with her for another minute. Soo Jin was still laying in his bed, cheeks red and eyes hazy from how turn on she was. 

“Come on I still have a few things I’m curious about.” Soo Jin pouted as she takes Yoongi’s arm to pull him back to the bed. She’s giving him the puppy eyes and Yoongi could only curse at this situation mentally because goddamn this situation is so tempting and he’s just a hormonal sixteen years old boy. But no, he’s not giving in and he’s just going to sleep this horny feeling off.

“Nah we’re done here. I want to sleep so dress up and get back to your room Soo Jin.” Yoongi retorted, putting on his boxers before he slips in his oversize t-shirt. He watches as Soo Jin give him another puppy eye look, her lower lips protruding in a cute way from the pout she did.

“But you don’t even need to do anything for the next thing, just lay down like my experiment bunny.” Soo Jin begged, poking on Yoongi who had lay down on his bed with his left arms covering his eyes as he try to sleep. 

When silence greeted her and she was sure that Yoongi was going to keep ignoring her, Soo Jin decided to put on her t-shirt and panties on before plopping down to Yoongi’s bed. It was getting a bit cold and she thought she didn’t need to be totally naked for her next experiment.

“Yoongi.” Soo Jin whisper to Yoongi’s ears and all Yoongi can think off is damn she just won’t quit trying huh. He’s still trying to fake sleep or at least trying to actually sleep but it’s proving to be difficult when Soo Jin kept whispering his name on his ears and poking his neck. 

It only takes a minute of Soo Jin persisting whispering to make the sleeping boy crack. “WHAT.” Yoongi finally snap, sitting up on the bed and giving Soo Jin a death glare. Instead of being offended, Soo Jin burst into a giggle “Aren’t you curious what I wanted to do next?”

“No.” Yoongi was lying to himself. Honestly while he was pretending to sleep he was wondering what were those things she said she wanted to try next. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Okay so just imagine you’re a bolster and all you need to do is stay still.” Soo Jin started, pushing Yoongi back to lay on his bed and Yoongi decided it wasn’t that bad so he’ll follow through with his best friend’s plan if that means she’ll stop pestering him afterwards. 

But he wasn’t prepared for the shock of his life when Soo Jin suddenly went on top of him and sat right down on his hard on so their crotch sat snugly against each other. 

“What the fuck are you doing!” Yoongi grunt and he didn’t even have time to realize what’s going on because Soo Jin is already moving back and forth on top of him and making their privates rub against each other. Moan spilled from both of their lips and Yoongi didn’t even have the strength to push her away because the pleasure coursing through the lower part of his body is intense and unlike anything he has ever felt before. 

“T-they said this is called dry humping.” Soo Jin moan out, closing her eyes and biting her lips when she felt her clit rub against the tip of Yoongi’s shaft. He was only in his boxers and she was only using her panties and the material only added to the delicious friction. Her friends weren’t lying when they told her how good it was going to feel because Soo Jin could feel her wetness seeping through her panties and she was sure there’s a wet patch on her panties by now.

Meanwhile the poor boy below her is having the biggest conflict in his life. He had his head thrown back, eyes close shut in pleasure and his lips were parted as a couple string of curses slip past his lips. 

Both of his hands were gripping tight on Soo Jin’s waist. The feeling of Soo Jin rubbing herself on him felt beyond amazing, but a part of him knew this is wrong, so he musters up the last common sense he has on his brain and choke out a soft, “W-we shouldn’t be doing t-this...”

“S-shut up Yoongi. I told you just imagine you’re my bolster.” Soo Jin pant out, refusing to stop herself from sliding back and forth against Yoongi. She was panting hard above him, hands clutching onto the shirt on Yoongi’s chest and Yoongi swore he wasn’t going to last long at all. Her assuring words had managed to calm him down and Yoongi decided that fuck it I’m her bolster.

“I-i’m going to cum.” Yoongi choke out, bucking his hips up when he felt the familiar whirlpool of pleasure in his stomach that indicates his incoming orgasm. The sight of her on top of him, the feeling on his dick and the moans that past by her lips, it was too much. 

“Wait don’t cum yet, give me a minute.” Soo Jin whine, a long moan followed afterwards as she slumped down to bury her head against Yoongi’s neck, hips still moving. “Fuck, you’re asking for a lot.” Yoongi groan, right hand pressed on her ass to help her rock her hips while his left-hand circle her small frame. 

“Ngghh...I’m almost t-there.” Soo Jin huff and Yoongi never felt more relief to hear that because frankly, he didn’t know how much longer he can hold it.

A few more strokes of Soo Jin’s covered slit against Yoongi’s swollen erection is all it takes for him to slip past his breaking point and he’s crying out “F-fuck, Soo Jin i’m cumming. I’m sorry.” Soo Jin squeal when she felt Yoongi’s dick twitching under her and a few second later he’s arching his back and holding her still against him while he’s trashing his hips upwards. He’s chanting Soo Jin’s name as he rides through his orgasm.

Ropes of hot white semen burst from his engorged tip, wetting his boxers and leaving a dark big spot on it. Then as if Yoongi realize something, he’s shoving Soo Jin aside away from his dick and into the spot beside him. “Shit get away from my wet boxers or you might get pregnant.” Yoongi look beyond fuck up, his entire face a rosy red as he pants loudly as if he just ran an entire marathon.

Meanwhile Soo Jin is pissed af because she still hasn’t cum and she had felt how flaccid Yoongi’s dick was after he came and now she’s left hanging. She’s horny and pissed, not a good combination. 

“Are you serious! I only needed a few more seconds Yoongi!!!” Soo Jin whine, glaring at the boy beside her who's still panting and breathing loudly with his eyes closed. She gave his arms a shove in annoyance and Yoongi finally open up his eyes, looking at Soo Jin with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry just give me like 20 minutes and I think I can get it up again."

Soo Jin’s mouth gape open, “Twenty minutes?! I’ll be dry and turn off by then!” Soo Jin cry out and Yoongi can only give her an apologetic look. Soo Jin roll her eyes and decided to take her panties off to show him how soaked she was and also partly because she was a tiny bit scared her panties had touched Yoongi’s wet boxers and somehow, she might get pregnant?

“Look you left me hanging Yoongi, it’s unfair so you better do something about this.” Soo Jin pull Yoongi’s head to look at her pussy and the boy’s mouth gape open in amazement at how wet she was. 

“You’re soaked.” Yoongi gulp, eyeing her swollen clit and her labia that has gotten a tiny bit puffier. “W-what do you want me to do?” Yoongi croak out, head spinning from wondering what she’s going to ask him to do. He didn’t want to do anything she didn’t tell him too.

Soo Jin’s cheeks heats up, she didn’t have this one plan out. She thought she was going to cum from the dry humping she wanted to try today but that didn’t go as planned. Her eyes widen when she remembered how her friend had said that getting your clit rubbed by someone else feels better than masturbating on your own. Maybe she can test that out today.

“Rub my clit with your fingers.” Soo Jin pull Yoongi’s hand towards her and Yoongi almost choked. They’ve never had direct contact with each other’s genitals before. For Yoongi that seems like it’s crossing the line. 

“Aren’t we going too far?” He bit his lip as he hesitates. The dry humping, he can pretend he’s a bolster, the nipple rubs he can assure himself that it was quick and only to fulfill her curiosity, but actually rubbing her to orgasm?

“What’s the difference with you massaging me? You’re just massaging me in a different area.” Soo Jin roll her eyes, parting her legs wider. At the sight of her pretty soaked pussy, Yoongi’s inner conscious was screaming Yeah, she’s right what’s the difference with a massage? You both give each other massages all the time it’s no big deal Yoongi. It’s just a massage.

RiGhT iT’s jUsT a MaSsAgE yOoNgI.

“Alright.” Yoongi nod, “Just a rub at the clit, nothing more. It’s like I’m giving you a massage.”

Soo Jin broke into a grin, excited that Yoongi finally gave in. Her fingers were clutching onto his sheets, the room suddenly feeling like it’s warmer. She watches as Yoongi experimentally dip his pointer finger and middle finger on her slit, grunting when he felt how wet she was. 

She couldn’t hold back the soft moan that slip pass her lips when she felt the first touch of his finger against her most sensitive region. Yoongi’s mind was going absolutely bonkers and he’s thinking wow i'm touching a vagina. There was no going back now and Yoongi might as well just finish what he started.

Her moans grew louder when Yoongi dip his fingers again, this time rubbing the wetness to gather on his fingers before he swipes up to rub on her swollen clit. “Y-yoongi.” Soo Jin gasped, throwing her head back as her body arches from the pleasure. She’ve masturbated a lot of times before, but the feeling of someone else touching her, it’s a whole different level.

“Is it good?” Yoongi lick his lips, he was getting turn on from this and even his dick was getting harder. Soo Jin could only nod, her eyes closing in pleasure as Yoongi kept rubbing his fingers against her clit. 

Her breathing was becoming uneven and she was letting out sounds she didn’t even know she can make. “Shh… Keep it down. Mom and dad might hear you.” Yoongi whisper out. He was enjoying the sounds she made but the sane part of his brain reminded him that their parents are sleeping in the same floor.

“It’s ngghhh…too good.” Soo Jin whimper out, one of her hands clutching tightly into Yoongi’s shirt. Her back kept arching and Yoongi slip his left hand under her to hold her back. Yoongi’s right hand was going loco down there rubbing her clit like a mad man. 

He swore his hands were going to get cramps, so he was thankful when Soo Jin moan out that she was going to cum soon. Soft squelching sounds and heavy breathing resonates the room. Yoongi felt her swollen labia puckering and her clit was a deep shade of red and engorged. 

Soo Jin thrash left and right, eyes closed and head thrown back, calling out Yoongi’s name softly and a lot of don’t stop as she felt her orgasm coming. He’s assuring her with yeah I’m not stopping, never and it only took a few more rub after that for an earth shattering orgasm to wash over Soo Jin and the young girl is almost sobbing in pleasure.

“Feels good?” He’s still rubbing her softly, letting her ride out her orgasm until she clutches his hands to stop him from overstimulating her. “Oh god…Amazing.” Soo Jin pant, chest going up and down. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, her cheeks were pink and she literally look glowing.

“I’ve never came this hard before.” Soo Jin admitted before she’s pointing towards her crotch where her cum was leaking out of her hole. The clear sticky liquid trickle down the bed, wetting Yoongi’s sheets and forming a small dark grey circle. 

Two seconds glimpse of her wet pussy and Yoongi’s immediately standing up to the toilet. 

He’s splashing cold water on his face and boner after he washes his hands. Trying to not think about how ready Soo Jin’s pussy looks and reminding himself that massage time is over now. When he came back from the toilet she’s all dressed up in his bed and she gave him a sheepish giggle, “I’m sorry I made your bed dirty.”

Yoongi nod curtly, plopping down beside her and closing his eyes as if he’s sleeping. “Yeah nothing new, you drop food on my bed all the time anyway. Now go back to your room because massage time is over sis.” He heard her chuckle as she stood up from his bed, greeting him a goodnight my bro~ If I have more things I want to test out I’m coming to you before she dashes out of his room like nothing happen.

Yoongi finally open his eyes when he heard his door closes with a loud thump. If not for the actual stain on his bed and the obvious scent of pussy on his sheets, he might think all of that was just some wet dream because she was gone as fast as she came. 

What the hell has he got himself into?

[fresh-outta-jams]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Part 11

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: You’re in college when your soulmate mark shows up, an address. You figure sending a letter couldn’t hurt. Warnings: Some swears, soulmate fluff. Word Count: 1.8k

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Epilogue

You thought four months would take forever to trudge through. You thought every day would be hell, burning even worse than the one before, building, building, building until you’d finally get on the plane to go see Namjoon. Instead, it was like a crescendo. You and Namjoon were talking every day like normal, sending letters back and forth every week or so. He’d update you on things that were happening over there, what he and the boys were up to that day. He’d tell you how much he wished you were there with him, but that he knew you had classes and that he believed in you.

You sent him dumb things on Twitter. He sent you dumber things in response. Many memes of his face were sent back and forth. You’d thought months ago that it wasn’t possible to love him any more than you did already, but you found that the more you talked to him, the more you found to love.

Namjoon was very, very excited about the approaching tour. Very excited.

“Jagiya, look at this cute couple outfit.” He sent it to you while you were Skyping. Your phone pinged another time, an additional image coming through. “Or do you want this one instead?”

“Joonie, I told you, you don’t have to buy me any clothes. I can just bring stuff I have and we can figure out stuff that matches.”

“But baby, we can get soulmate shirts…” He had been spending a little too much time online shopping recently. “It’ll be so cute.”

“Okay, but don’t go overboard.”

“Alright. Oh, also, I was trying to figure out some fun things for us to do, so I think we’re going to go to Disneyland when we’re in California and then I got us Wicked tickets for when we’re in New York. The Shedd Aquarium in Chicago is really nice…”

“Why are you so perfect?” You grinned at him. He grinned back, his dimples prominent and begging to be poked. You swore as soon as you saw him you were going to pinch those adorable cheeks of his.

“I just want my jagi to have fun.”

“I don’t need all of those things to have fun. All I need is you.”

“Ughhh, jagiiii.” His cheeks reddened and he covered his face. “I thought we had a no-cheesy contract.”

“Excuse me, sir? You are WAY cheesier than I could ever aspire to be, what with your adorable matching couple outfits and the most romantic itinerary I’ve ever heard.”

“Okay, okay…” He chuckled. “That’s fair.” His eyes trailed over your features, stopping at your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. You looked amused, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Sorry, I just...want to kiss you so bad.”

“I know, baby. But we just have a few weeks now, right? It’s so close I can taste it.”

“Yeah…” Namjoon smiled softly. “So close…”

***

Little did you know, your first meeting with Namjoon would be a little sooner than even you expected. Your boyfriend, bless his heart, had been busy at work cooking up a little scheme that he hoped would make you happy. According to your friends from school, he KNEW it would make you happy.

Originally the plan was that you would fly to Korea and one of the members of the BTS Staff would be there to take you to either BigHit or the dorms, depending on where the boys were at the time. Namjoon, however, had other plans. It just so happened, that your exams fell on the Thursday and Friday of exam week, which meant you would be cooped up in the library for the three days leading up to them.

RM_fan_94: Okay, so she’ll definitely be in the library, right?

GracieGirl: Definitely. For sure.

Lilyyyy: Agreed. There is literally nowhere else she will be for Monday-Wednesday. Except maybe to grab food really quick, but usually during exam week, she just gets food from the tea place at the library.

RM_fan_94: Okay, perfect.

RM_fan_94: I’m so nervous…

Lilyyyy: Awwwwww!!

GracieGirl: Don’t be! She loves you so freaking much, Namjoon!

Lilyyyy: Yeah, we should know lmao we hear about you all the time.

RM_fan_94: awwwww, does she really talk about me all the time??

GracieGirl: Y E S

Lilyyyy: More than she talks about literally anything else ever.

RM_fan_94: Okay, I gotta go, she’s calling in a few

GracieGirl: Byeeeee!

***

“Dear Namjoon,

I cannot wait to see you. I seriously cannot wait. It’s eating me alive. I check my phone every five minutes, hoping five hours have miraculously passed. I think honestly, the only thing keeping me sane at this point is my homework and my final film project.

I keep thinking about how the minute I finish my last exam, I’ll be on my way to the airport to see you. Well, not the MINUTE after I finish, but a few days later, at least. Ugh, it seems so far away.

I’m working on my final film project now, and I actually like how it’s turning out for once. This is the first project I think I’ve ever felt confident on ever in my life and I can’t wait to send it to you when it’s finished. It’s due soon, though, so I don’t think I’ll have time to send it to you before it’s due. Either way, I think you’ll really like it.

Also, I’m bringing my camera on tour so I can capture all of our cute couple moments and make a montage. I cannot wait for that either. I’ve never even been on a plane before and now I’m flying across the world to see the love of my life. It’s like a fairytale, it really, really is.

I think it would be AMAZING to go to Ilsan and meet your family (and your dog!!). I’ve been wanting to meet them for basically forever. Your sister sounds super cool. And I think it’s adorable that you kiss the Petoskey stone every night but because you think it’s embarrassing, I’m definitely going to tease you about it.

Lily and Grace are helping me re-dye my hair tonight so it’ll be nice and fresh and bright pink for you. I’ll be sure to send you lots of messy selfies of the process because honestly, it’s hilarious, and you’ll be awake anyway.

I love you so, so, so much,

-(Y/N)”

***

“Hyung, are you sure you want to do this?” Jungkook held the brush over the little bowl, hot pink dye dripping from the bristles. “It’s not too late to go back.”

“I’m sure.” Namjoon nodded. He was seated on the toilet lid, a towel draped around his shoulders, hair newly bleached. “Jin-hyung always does whatever he wants with his hair.”

“And then he gets yelled at.” Jimin laughed.

“I want to match. It’ll probably only last a few days anyway. Pink washes out quick.”

“I should know.” Jungkook shook his head, memories of his brief stint of magenta resurfacing.

“Just do it.” Namjoon sat up a little straighter.

Jungkook looked to Jimin and Taehyung, who each shrugged as if to say ‘hey, it’s his funeral’, and then brushed the dye onto Namjoon’s bleached-blond hair. Well, there really wasn’t any going back now.

***

Namjoon ruffled through his very, very pink hair, smiling at himself. God, he was an idiot in love. The things he did for you… And yet, staring at his reflection, he had no regrets. In fact, he would do it again just to see the look on your face.

Speaking of which…

His phone was ringing. Shit. Shit. God, he had to answer it, didn’t he? And of course it was a FaceTime from the one person who couldn’t know he had pink hair yet.

Looking around his room, he grabbed the first hat he could find, a black beanie, and slipped it onto his head to cover up the new hair. Then, he plopped down into his chair and hit accept call.

“Hey baby.” He let the words roll out, all casual. As though he hadn’t just dried off his hot pink hair.

“Hey Joon, what’s up?”

I just dyed my hair hot pink, so there’s that… “Not much. Working on some songs and stuff. You?”

“I just woke up and I missed your handsome face.”

“Well aren’t I lucky? God, I missed your voice.”

“What’s up with the hat?” You smirked, looking at the black beanie hastily thrown on top of his hair. “I mean, it’s cute, but…”

“It’s uh...”

“Oh, new hair. Alright, got it.” You dragged your pinched fingers across your lips, zipping them shut. “No leaks here.”

“Thank you, jagi.” He breathed in relief, watching as your adorable features twisted in curiosity.

“It does, however, make me wonder…” You trailed off, tapping your lip with a little pink-painted finger.

“No sneak-peeks, baby. I’m sorry.”

You pouted, pretending to be upset. “Okayyyyyy…” Immediately, you brightened. “Guess what!”

“What?”

“We learned a dance in my K-Pop club the other day and guess what song it was.”

“I’m stumped.” He grinned, tilting his head, waiting for you to spout whatever BTS song you and your friends had learned.

“We learned Baepsae and I got to learn your part!”

“Awwwwww that’s so cute!”

You nodded excitedly. “It was so fun. I can’t wait to show you.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

“How many days until I get to see you?”

“A week, baby.” A lie. Perhaps the first Namjoon had ever told you. He hoped the pet name he used would cover it up well enough. After all, you shared a soul. Maybe you could tell when he was lying to you, even if it was a little innocent lie like this one.

“Ughhhhhhh that’s seven days too many.”

“I agree.”

“I want to kiss you so bad, Namjoon.” You groaned. “I need to be in your arms. Immediately.”

“I know, baby. Believe me, I know.” Though the four months had gone by, it wasn’t like it hadn’t hurt him to have to wait and wait and wait. The temptation to come see you over your Spring Break was almost crippling, and had he not had to do promotions, he would have been on a plane ages ago. “But it’s soon now. I love you a lot, alright?”

“I love you a lot too.” You nodded, watching the way his dimple poked in when he smiled softly at your words.

Namjoon yawned and stretched. “Alright, jagiya, I have an early morning tomorrow, so I have to get some sleep now. But I love you so much and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“I love you too.”

And then he hung up, grinning. You had no idea what was coming for you in the next few days...

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @ffantasylandd, @jooniefluff, @chimchimsauce, @mrs-saeyoung-choi, @theprinceoftheundead, @angyexoxo, @copenhagenspirit, @lovelylittlekittn, @lilgaga98, @iminlovewjjk, @feed-my-geek-soul, @loveandwitch, @recoveringflowerchild, @demonic-meatball, @maddieisaacs, @scissorsandtonfas, @carirosesg, @backtonormalthings, @local-mochi, @faliwi, @spoopyela, @nanie5, @ingenu--e, @undiscovered1personality, @andalos, @calspixie, @filtermono, @huhuehuey, @mikey-girl12, @lilliaflurr, @hypophrenium, @sitkafay, @spiicyari, @andeerwilson, @btswerewolfaus, @oyasumi7, @mycurrentusernameisalreadytaken, @gangstavixsta

[axelsagewrites]

Magnus Bane*No Tea Tonight PT4

Magnus has had many past lovers. Some subcum to age, some to tradgedy, and some to fights. (Y/N) however was lost, literalley. After going missing on a shadowhunter mission their was no answers. Not till the case was reopened by the Lightwood siblings who were in over there heads.

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Magnus Bane X Warlock!Reader

Part one  Part two Part three

“Rent,” The landlord said when the door opened.

The warlock held back a groan, “Extension?” They tried with an awkward smile.

He rolled his eyes. he was your classic sleaze bag, wife beater and all. Off course it was stained and barely covered his stomach. The stench was so strong your nose would involuntarily twitch, “You’ve been here 8 weeks and paid 5. If it's not in my mailbox tomorrow I’m changing the lock. Got it, Cory?”

“Yup,” (Y/N) put on an apologetic face, “Promise,”

He rolled his eyes and walked away to no doubt chap the next door asking the same. The warlock shut the door and stormed over to the couch, sending a small flame at Caleb. “Ow!” He shot up.

“Came down,” (Y/N) rolled their eyes, “It didn’t even singe. Now has that new apartment come through yet? We need out of here,”

He scratched his head, “Dunno. didn’t check,”

“I did not leave my home for you for you to be a complete screw-up,”

“I am not a screw-up!” He stood from the couch, “You chose to come,”

“Yeah like I had much of a choice!”

“Did I drag you!”

“You didn’t have to!” (Y/N) screamed. “That’s what friends do. And I’m getting sick of putting my neck out for you,”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Cal said, sitting back down, “It’s because of me you’ve travelled the world,”

“It’s because of you I can’t show my face in the downworld. It’s because of you that Magnus is gone. It’s because you wanted-“

“I get it!” Cal cut them off. “But Magnus wasn’t my fault. It was that demon,”

“Who summoned him?”

  Isabelle almost regretted binge watching an entire series, or two, instead of sleeping. Everyone else had left to do their assigned task and she was sat in front of a computer screen. Coffee in one hand, her head in the other. It was tedious to look through the photos, to say the least.

It wasn’t till a notification popped up things got interesting. She’d left the search for Marvin’s Bookshop open in a separate tab and it was only now eventually done. There were only 3 results. Izzy clicked the first. It had been abandoned a couple years back and turned into a yin fen den. Great. Note the sarcasm.

She clicked on the second. Marvin’s bookshop to be investigated after the leak of highly demonic materials. Izzy’s face contorted into confusion. Demons in a bookshop?

The last one. Marvin’s bookshop report. Owner: Marvin Mystic, 653-year-old warlock. Mundane?: No. sells warlock supplies, spell books, and other downworlder related items. No items to confiscate, legal. Inventory reports being sent in weekly. Marvin has been approved by Clave. Address, 784 Lenox Road, Brooklyn, New York. Licensed till 2009.

Isabelle stared at the report. It was in Brooklyn? Maybe it was the sleep or the sheer cockiness of Isabelle, but she decided to check it out herself. It had been shut down after a yin fen den was found in 2013 so it should be fine.

The door put up little resistance to Isabelle’s stele. The entire outer building now had graffiti all over it but no mundane damage to the inside. She shut the door behind her and pulled out her witchlight. Books were strewn across the room, there were stains on the carpets, and it clearly hadn’t been cleaned up since the yin fen bust.

the windows had been boarded up and there was no hope for electric so the witchlight had to do. Isabelle inspected the front room. It seemed like a typical bookstore. Not even a trace of the downworld to the untrained eye.

She walked over to the counter and hopped over it with ease. The back was even more of a mess. The desk was just generally messy, but the drawers bellow had been ransacked. Papers and money were strewn across the floor. Some of the money was ripped but most untouched.

Isabelle crouched down and looked in the drawers. Old inventory stocks and receipts. Nothing special. The bottom drawer hadn’t been touched though. Isabelle tried to pull it open, but it didn’t budge. She tried the stele. Nothing.

She sat down and thought when she remembered her and Alec’s first mission; get the sweets from mums’ desk. You see they were determined youngsters who figured out you could pull out the drawer above it.

Isabelle discarded of the drawer above it, but there was a metal board above the drawer. Isabelle glared at it. she grabbed her stele and tried a mix of different runes. Nothing. Deciding,, screw it, Isabelle stood and just flipped the desk. The wood on the bottom was less protected.

She was able to break off the wood and get into the drawer from the bottom. Once she grabbed the papers and stuff them in her jacket she felt something grab her neck.

Something slimy wrapped around her like slugs. The one around her neck tightened. She couldn’t get to the seraph blade on her waist and her stele was sitting on the floor.

The slimeball tried to reach into her jacket for the papers. Isabelle trashed as hard as she could. Somehow she got them both on the floor. Her back against her captors who was lying on their assumed back on the floor. Isabelle could feel herself literally sinking into it and something start to burn her jacket.

Isabelle couldn’t reach a weapon so instead tried to reach whatever was closer; a money tin. She grabbed it and swung it behind her head. She kept swinging. The slime stated splattering all over the place.

With each hit, the grip lessened until she managed to grab her seraph blade. She didn’t know what she hit but the thing made a hissing sound and suddenly she hit the floor. The thing had slithered away into the back.

Isabelle although brave wasn’t stupid, so she booked it. running through the streets of Brooklyn, money box in hand.

She only stopped when she ran into someone full force. “Hey!” The familiar grating voice said.

Isabelle steadied herself by grabbing Alec. “Inside. We need to get inside,”

Alec raised an eyebrow but turned around. Luck seemingly was on their side since he had just come from Magnus’. He pressed the buzzer and waited.

“Who dares disturbed the-“

“Let us in!” Isabelle cut him off.

“Izzy?” A buzz sounded and the door opened.

Izzy rushed inside, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it to Alec. The back of it was now gone and the fresh air on Izzy’s back made her hiss in pain.

The door was already open when they got to Magnus’s. “Isabelle,” Magnus said as the lightwoods rushed in.

Alec ignored him and went to checking Isabelle’s back. He pulled out his stele and started drawing on her, “What happened?” Alec asked.

“Bookshop, demon, papers,” she panted, gritting her teeth at the stele’s touch.

Magnus walked over to inspect the back. “I have something for that,” he said, rushing over to a workspace, summoning some ingredients.

The warlock worked his magic and handed Alec a cream to put on the wounds. It looked like a mix between a burn and an acid. “Isabelle. What happened?” Magnus asked as she sat down, careful to avoid her back.

“The bookshop,” she panted, “it was a warlock shop. It-it was closed then a-a yin fen den. It was abandoned. The desk had been raided but I found some untouched papers in a locked drawer. In my ja-jacket,”  she pointed at the burned-up jacket.

Alec grabbed it and pulled out the now crumpled papers, avoiding the small slime smudges on the corners. “Looks like inventory,”

“No,” Isabelle said, “I already found that. The entire desk had been ripped apart, but they couldn’t get in that one,”

“Demons are only so smart,” Magnus chimed in.

“Seriously, look.” Alec handed the papers to his sister.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She muttered. It was just a stock list.

Magnus rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers to summon the papers, “Let the dog see the rabbit, children,” his eyes scanned the papers.

“See?” Alec said, crossing his arms.

“No, but you will,” Magnus walked over to his cauldron and waved his hand over to clear the contents. He summoned some bottles and began adding unknown ingredients to it.

The siblings shrugged. It took a few minutes till Magnus just shoved the papers inside. It fizzled with a bang. “Magnus!” Isabelle yelled.

Magnus pulled them out, flinching at the heat. He quickly sat them on his desk. Alec walked over to stand beside him as their eyes skimmed the paper. “What language is that?”

“Quechua. It’s the second most common in Peru. Not widely used.” Magnus said, eyes still skimming. “Its inventory,” he said. Isabelle pouted, “Demonic though. Mundane blood, vampire hair, shadowhunter skin. Some dark stuff,”

“No kidding,” Alec said, shivering at the thought of someone buying his skin.

“The records here,” he flipped through, “Stop 6 years ago. June 13, 2013. Just some spell books,”

The shadowhunters thought about it. “Can we date check that photo? Maybe find a record or something similar?” Alec asked.

Isabelle groaned, “Fine. Magnus, can you translate those,”

Magnus raised an eyebrow, “There are 17 pages here. Go screw yourself,” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Just copy it down on paper, exactly, then scan it and put it in a translator. Or can the clave not afford one?”

“No need for the sass,” Alec said.

The warlock grinned, “theirs always need for sass,”

Before another sarcastic comment, Alec’s phone rang. Jace. “Hello?”

“Meet us in central park by the old coffee stand in 20 minutes,”

“Jace-“

“Do it!”

The phone beeped. He hung up.

Alec got an uneasy feeling, “We need to go,”

“What is it?”

“I’ll explain on the way,”

[danielcooperrp]

Indecent Exposure

Summer in Boston is sticky, heat radiating off of the brick and cobblestone. Xavier’s is on break, and the Cooper family has returned to their home in the North End. The days are long and slow, but there’s tension in the air; Drew’s abilities started manifesting about nine months ago, and each passing day it gets harder for Aidan’s support to prevail over her jealousy.

Anna is having no such trouble, always out with this friend or that, catching up with her classmates from before. Daniel has long given up on being up-to-date on her whereabouts, and with her powers, Find My Phone is never reliable. But he trusts her, knows she got his brains and her mother’s self-reliance. Drew he worries about, and now Aidan too, but Anna, a force of nature, he knows can take care of herself.

He comes home on a night, sweated through his sport coat after a three-hour-long meeting with the City Council about redistricting—there’s no reason why his property taxes shouldn’t fund public education in the less affluent parts of town, it’s just common sense—and the tension in the air is different, electric. Ally’s not home, having flown back to Xavier’s early that morning for some emergency or another, he can’t remember, his ears were still thick with sleep. Drew is curled up on the couch in the living room, a large paperback in his hands, but Daniel can tell by the stillness of his eyes that he’s not really reading.

He drops his satchel in the foyer and opens his mouth to ask a question, but he’s interrupted by stomping feet from above. He hears Aidan before he sees her. “She won’t come out, D, what are we supposed to—” She stops short a third of the way down the stairs, staring wide-eyed at her father’s confused face. “Oh. Hey, Dad.” 

Daniel doesn’t miss the panicked look the twins exchange.

He shrugs his jacket off and hangs it calmly on the coat rack by the door. He makes a meal of it, letting the kids sweat it out before asking, “Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

Another glance between the twins, and then they’re talking at the same time. 

“It’s nothing.”

“We promise we wouldn’t tell.”

Aidan glares at her brother, who shrugs helplessly. Daniel knew he’d break first. He walks into the living room and sits beside his son on the couch. “Talk.”

“I—”

Just then, all the lights dim before flickering back to life. He doesn’t hear the telltale hum of a transformer to signal a brown-out, and he’s lived in the same house as a technopath long enough to recognize unusual activity. “What’s she doing?”

“Let her handle it, Dad,” Aidan says, still on the stairs. “She can fix it—”

And he’s up off the couch, taking long strides toward the second floor. He ignores Aidan as she hisses over the banister, “Some help you were, Drew.”

Anna room is at the end of the hall. It’s not unusual to hear music streaming from behind the wood, pop punk or show tunes, but it’s silent tonight. Daniel knocks once, and a watery voice replies, “Go away, Aidan, it’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and Daniel pokes his head inside. Anna’s room is uncharacteristically dark; her windows, normally open to the breeze, are covered by blinds and curtains. The only light comes from her laptop, which illuminates his cross-legged daughter on the bed. He doesn’t need a plethora of light to tell that she’s been crying, though, and he can also see from the set of her jaw that they’re tears of rage.

“Banana?” He keeps his voice soft. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Her palm is pressed firmly to the screen of her laptop, and by the way the colors dance across her twisted face, she’s scouring the Internet for something as fast as she can. “It doesn’t matter, Dad.” Her voice is tight, controlled. “It’s stupid.”

He reaches in to flick on a table lamp, and the flood of new light reveals what a wreck his eldest daughter is. Her eyes are puffy, her skin pale. Her shoulders hunch inward with a quiet intensity. She looks as if she’s coming apart at the seams, and the colors never slow across her face.

“Anna...” He pushes inside, perching on the edge of her bed. Before she can stop him, he’s got her in his arms, pressing her face into his chest. That’s when she falls apart, tears and snot and an unintelligible string of curses leaking into his dress shirt. He rubs a hand up and down her shaking back, pressing kisses into the crown of her head. After a few minutes, the trembling eases, and Daniel snags a tissues from the box by her bed and gives it to her. She pulls back and blows her nose.

“Jelly Bean,” he says softly. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“You can’t help me, period,” she groans, voice thick. “I can’t even help me, and this is my domain.” Her eyes flick to the screen and then down to her lap.

Daniel turns the laptop to get a good look at it. On the screen is a screenshot of an article from The Boston Tea Party, a local gossip blog. It’s as disreputable as it is disrespectful, and his more than once his wife has been featured for her superheroic foibles. As he reads the article, he feels heat creep under his skin. 

TONY STARK’S MUTANT GRANDDAUGHTER CAUGHT IN A SAPPHIC SLUTFEST IN SOUTH END NIGHTCLUB (PHOTOS)

Wednesday night is Ladies’ Night at the Pennant, a popular nightclub in the South End of Boston, and some patrons take that more literally than others. Spotted in a graphic embraces with several other women was Anna Cooper, daughter of mutant superhero Ally Bradley and local politician Daniel Cooper and granddaughter of global hero Tony Stark. Much like her grandfather, Anna Cooper seems to really like the ladies, as photos show her making out with no fewer than four different women throughout the night. Cooper was also seen groping her female dance partners on the dance floor and sharing drinks with them, despite being under 21. Seems like the slut apple doesn’t fall too far from the whore tree in the Stark family. See the photos below for proof. 

Daniel reads the article three times in rapid succession, not blinking once. Anna watches his impassive face carefully, picking at a pull in her duvet. She sniffs. “I managed to get the article off of the website, that was easy, but...” Her eyes fall down as her skin flushes. “I can’t delete screenshots if they’re saved to local devices. They’ll just keep popping up again.” She presses the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. “I’m so sorry, Dad—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, and she pulls her hands away. He’s trembling with rage; she doesn’t think she has ever, in seventeen years, seen him so angry. His face is still placid, but she can see the fury bubbling just below the surface. “No. You will not apologize for this—this—” And there are no words for it. He reaches out and slowly closes the laptop, because the only other option is to hurl it across the room. He twists his head and looks her straight in the eye. “You will not apologize for being alive, Anna. I don’t ever want to hear you say I’m sorry because you had the nerve to be a human being.”

Tears stream down Anna’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t have—I knew I was underage, I know how famous we are—”

“I don’t give a shit, Anna!” Daniel pushes himself off of the bed and starts pacing. “I don’t care that you should have known better, I don’t care that we’re in the public eye, I don’t care that you’re related to Tony fucking Stark. I care that there are people out there who think that they have the right to hurt my daughter as though she exists solely for their public consumption.” He wipes a shaking hand over his face; he can feel himself starting to lose control. He forces himself to sit down again. 

“Listen, Anna,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper. “There are things you don’t know about me, about my past, and that’s fine. You don’t need to know them. But while, yes, I always want you to be safe, and preferably not breaking the law, I am never, ever going to judge you for the choices you make. So long as you aren’t hurting yourself or others, I want you to live the life you want to live. Do you understand me?” 

Anna nods, the tears coming faster.

“This, this bullshit? This will never make me think less of you. These fucking losers, they cannot make me think less of you. I’m sorry that this is going to exist on the Internet forever. That sucks, and you don’t deserve that. But don’t think for one minute that it is going to make me love you less because nothing can do that.” 

And as if she were a little kid again, Anna crawls into his lap, tucking her head under his chin. He holds her tight, rocking her back and forth gently, still silently seething. 

_____

Eventually, Anna cries herself to sleep, and Daniel tucks her beneath her duvet. When he exits her room, the twins are waiting in the hallway, watching him warily. “Is she okay?” Drew asks.

Daniel sighs, running a hand through his curls. He really needs a haircut. “Not right now. But she will be.” He knows she’ll get through the other side of this. He did, and she’s a hell of a lot stronger than he ever was. “Listen, kids...I need to go out for a little while. Please stay in the house, don’t answer your phone from numbers you don’t recognize, and keep an ear out in case your sister needs you. I’ll try to be back before she wakes up again.” He heads toward the master bedroom at the other end of the hall to change. 

“What are you going to do?” 

He freezes at Aidan’s quiet query. Without turning around, he murmurs, “What needs to be done,” before walking into his bedroom and shutting the door.

_____

There are perks to being part of one of the most well-connected families in Boston. It doesn’t take him long to find out where the webmaster of the gossip blog lives. This is stupid, incredibly stupid, but his skin is still electric with rage, and he’s in the mood to make some stupid decisions. 

What he’s not expecting to see when he steps off the T is Jonathan, leaned against the wall, so casual he almost looks bored. Daniel debates ignoring him, but Jonathan has a crooked eyebrow that demands his attention, so he stalks over to him. “Which one of them called you?”

Jonathan snorts. “Who do you think? Drew’s always been the snitch, face the facts.” 

Daniel’s fists clench and unclench at his sides. “If you came to stop me—”

“You’re a grown-ass man, Daniel, if you want to ruin your life, that’s entirely up to you.” The look he’s giving him is so pointed, though, Daniel can’t believe the back of his skull hasn’t given out. 

His shrug is casual, though neither of them believes it. “I just want to talk to him.”

“Ha, right. Just talk to the guy who just slut-shamed your gay seventeen-year-old daughter in front of all of New England. Sure. A totally normal, chill conversation.”

“You know what, Jonathan?” Daniel snaps. “Fine. Fine, I want to knock his teeth in. I want to drag him into the street and kick him until I hear his ribs crack. Is that what you want me to say?”

WIth a sigh, Jonathan tips his head back against the wall. “Of course you do, Daniel! I do too! You think I don’t remember snapping back to life and seeing that little girl and knowing in my bones that I would do anything to protect her? But we can’t protect her from this, Daniel. People are always going to want to talk about her. She’s gorgeous and famous and rich and gay and related to powerful people. The best we can do is prepare her for the scrutiny of others. But this? Stalking out into the night like some vigilante to exact revenge? All it’s going to do is get you taken away from her, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”

Daniel slumps against the wall next to him, feeling so very tired. “So what do I do?” he mutters with a shrug. “Let this douchebag continue to harass my daughter? You didn’t see her, J. She’s devastated. I can’t let him get away with it.”

There’s a long pause, and then Jonathan says quietly, “I didn’t say anything about getting away with it.”

Daniel’s head snaps to the side to stare at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I’m even here? I’m distracting you so Connor can do what he needs to do without interruption from your scrawny ass.”

His jaw drops. “What?” 

“Let Uncles C and J take care of things, Daniel. You go home and be there for your daughter—and, maybe more importantly, establish an alibi.” He winks, and then nods toward the track as a Green Line train rolls in. “Don’t worry, you know how fast he’ll heal.”

Daniel’s still in shock as he nudged toward the train. As the door close in front of him, Jonathan gives a little wave from the platform, looking very pleased with himself. 

_____

When he trudges in the front door, the twins are waiting for him anxiously in the living room. “Go to bed,” he grumbles, heading for the stairs. “It’s late.”

“Did you kill him?” Aidan asks bluntly, arms crossed. 

Daniel gives her a look. “No, Aidan, I did not kill anyone. I didn’t even make it out of the Babcock Street stop.”

“...Why not?”

With a sigh, Daniel says, “Because...sometimes you need to accept help from others, even if you think you don’t need it. Now, if anyone asks, you don’t know why I went out tonight, got it?” The twins nod vigorously. “Good. Now, seriously, get to bed. I don’t care that it’s summer, it’s still late.”

When he gets to the top of the stairs, he heads in the opposite direction of his bedroom. At the end of the hall, he creaks open Anna’s door and pokes his head in. She’s still asleep, sprawled out under her duvet. He tiptoes inside and presses a kiss to her forehead. Fatherhood, he thinks, is absolutely maddening. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for his kids, and the easy clarity of that knowledge settles over him as he heads to bed. 

[bananashemmo]

Even At Midnight

Pairing: Y/N/Gang!Ashton

Rating: NC-All

Request: No

Words: 3.000+

Summary: After traumatic experiences with another shooting from Walker’s gang, Ashton and Luke’s little sister Y/N settle down late at night at an old motel. With old sayings; some people are meant to fall in love with each other but not meant to be together.

Wheels spinning against the slippy road caused the problem of confusing directions. It was only with the hard lights on and a tight grip of the steering wheel Ashton managed to control the red mustang.

Loud thunderclaps were echoed in the background. You knew the sounds were only heightened because of the close waterfall and the shadows of the mountains.

You couldn’t help but sigh with your head pressed against the cold window. At first, you had gushed over the rain running down the glass but you had grown used to it.

The weather couldn’t get at thick as the tension between you.

He had been sighing, making random noises and moving his hands from the steering wheel to the gear and back. Even when he wasn’t supposed to switch or change anything.

You had been staring at the road literally just waiting for it to end. It felt as if you could continue for days without getting any further into where you were going.

It was like there was no destination at all.

You looked down at your knee to see what was causing the pulsing pain. It was quite obvious from the large cut that had torn your jeans apart right by the knees but you hadn’t noticed it until looking down.

Blood was leaking from the cut wound, not something major but it could still sting like a true bitch.

The moments before it happening was rushed through. You heard the loud bangs, you heard the triggers of a gun and it was just about to run.

You never believed you were able to run that fast. P.E had never been your thing in high school and college it was totally not included in any of your schedules. You were mostly closed inside.

If it wasn’t for Ashton reacting fast, you would still have been staying on the ground.

It was with a short knockout your face connected with the wet and grey asphalt. It was cold and gross just like you had imagined but you just couldn’t believe you would need to touch it.

Things happened so fast you didn’t even get the chance to get up before Ashton had his arms under yours and quickly pulling you up from the ground. It wasn’t until you were sat in the car and Ashton pressed the speeder to get away from Walker you were able to breathe.

But things didn’t turn better. You were lost on the roads and couldn’t just pull to the side because you had no idea who was following you.

Even at midnight.

The fans were on from the car for two reasons. One, to make sure you weren’t cold because of the shaking weather outside and two because your clothes were completely drowned in water.

You had tried to collect your wet hair into a bun but it was no use. It was everywhere to the point where you didn’t even want to remove it from irritating your eyes.

You were cold, you were hungry and all you wanted was to get back safe where you didn’t need to worry.

But Luke always had to make the decisions and stating you were most safe with Ashton meant you had no arguments for getting home for tonight. And definitely not with Ashton’s lack of sense of locality.

You were doomed, to begin with.

“Is it still bleeding?”

The question from Ashton almost startled you. So many minutes had passed in silence you had almost forgotten his presence next to you in his car.

“W.- What?” You didn’t know if you were stammering because you were still cold or because you were feeling your pulse rise by the small shock.

“Your knee.” He nodded his head towards your bleeding leg, “You knocked it pretty hard when you fell to the ground. I know I didn’t get the chance to look at it before or comment on it but now I see.”

You watched he spoke and his eyes fell back onto the road.

You looked down at your knee and shrugged your shoulder, expecting for him to read body language from the corner of his eye.

“It’s okay... It doesn’t really hurt anymore only when I stretch it.” You decided to answer anyway, not wanting to sound as brave as you actually weren’t.

There was no need of playing brave because he knew well enough how scared you were inside.

“It was wrong of me to bring you there.”

You didn’t expect him to say the words and you looked up at him with locks of wet hair still in front of your eyes.

“My job is to avoid you the danger but I placed you right in a lion field. It wasn’t my intentions I just couldn’t leave you at home. It would be the most obvious thing for Walker to realize once all the four of us were together.”

You could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw that he was sincerely angry at himself. Forgiving someone else is almost harder than to forgive an unfaithful person.

“Ashton I-,”

“No Y/N. I don’t need the gentle words.” He didn’t want to sound mad but he still managed to startle you, “I can’t make up for my mistakes by saying it’s okay.”

You decided not to answer. When he was being like this it was no use. He so easily self-blamed and you didn’t want to come between him and his thoughts.

You wrapped your arms closer around your body and looked down at the floor where your feet were being swallowed by the black darkness.

“We're almost there.” It was minutes later Ashton changed the subject and with his pointing finger directed towards the small looking motel that was right ahead of you.

Old fashioned, pretty much looking like a diner with the neon pink lights and a largely pointed finger towards the small wooden building.

Your eyes widened half, not believing this was where you were going to stay for the night.

But better than staying in the car without much feel of true heat.

You almost couldn’t catch up with him once he was out of the car. It was still raining like crazy and even though you were completely drowned that and it couldn’t get any worse you still didn’t want to be colder than already.

Ashton didn’t seem to mind by the rain, he had an emotionless expression on his face but still decided to use his black denim jacket to cover the both of you from the stormy rain.

The door cracked loudly when Ashton opened it and a small bell from above ringed to announce your presence.

It was prettier inside than outside, you had to admit.

A woman was sitting behind the counter and chewing gum so loudly you could hear it on the other side of the waterfall. Her hair was in a loose ponytail that hid her commune colored hair and with her facial features, she was younger than you.

She was probably being forced by her parents to work on the spare side of her high school life.

You weren’t actually the only ones at the place, some were sitting in front of a fireplace even though it was late at night and others were walking around being checked into their rooms by others.

The place was mostly for people just needing a night of sleep and getting back in the car again to drive.

Ashton looked around trying to figure out what to do, he didn’t have much money in his hands but still decided to go with it.

“Stay here while I fix us a room.”

You stood next to a plant not really knowing what to do. At any other moment, you would have been embarrassed to look this awkward and you could tell people were staring at your nipples peeking through the lazy bra.

It was just too cold to keep yourself warm.

Ashton was hovering over the desk with almost an angry expression on his face.

He was clearly disagreeing about something the girl behind the desk was explaining to him. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to walk up to him or not. You didn’t want to interrupt something if he was about to snap at her.

He wasn’t speaking loudly but his jaw was clenched and he was folding his fingers while he leaned his arms on the desk. They were having a disagreement for sure.

You sat against the plant waiting for a while but when they didn’t get to a solution you decided to walk up and hear what in the world was going on.

“So what you’re saying is you don’t have any single rooms that are free for tonight?” Ashton couldn’t believe his ears, now you knew what they were discussing.

“Because this place looks like a hole.”

“I assure you we don’t have any double bedrooms for tonight. The only thing I can serve for you is a single bedroom with one bed and bath.”

Ashton looked down at you by your presence and without hesitation, you just nodded your head. There was no need to just stand there you just needed to get fully inside.

Even if it was only for one bed, you could sleep on the floor perhaps.

“We’ll take it,” Ashton said through gritted teeth and threw the money on the table.

The girl seemed satisfied with the conversation ending and typed things into her computer. Ashton waited quietly as she found the key to your room and explained which stairs you were supposed to take.

In silence, you walked down the creepy halls towards the stairs that lead upstairs.

You didn’t know what to say, both because you were so insanely tired but also because you just wanted a break. A break from everything that was going on around you.

“It’s here,” Ashton mentioned and stopped in front of the room 745.

You stopped mid-track and watched him open the door, the instant smell of dishwater hitting your nostrils but it was okay. It meant that at least the room was clean.

The room was not as small as you expected but it still only included one bed. The windows were covered by the curtains and if you moved them away you were lead to the motorway noising in the background.

“It’s okay,” Ashton mentioned, his attitude changing and removed his wet denim jacket.

“It’s better than nothing.” You sighed and tried again to collect your hair into a bun.

None of you knew what to say but you could feel that the emotions were ready to kick now that reality had hit.

You still stood by the door not knowing what to do but Ashton had taken a seat on the bed. Just by the lack of bounce you knew it was hard like a brick wall.

Ashton looked at you with a frown, scanning your face.

“Baby...” He commented softly, noticing your sadness.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you. I promise you that.”

You blinked twice to get the tears away and looked up at him as he approached you.

“I promise you.” Despite the cold weather, his hand was still burning warm when he comfortably placed it on your cheek to caress it.

“What about Luke?” You asked, not wanting to sound nervous but you were.

“I’ll give him a call right now. Go check if the bathroom’s alright.”

You nodded your head and watched him fish his phone out of his pocket before walking into the bathroom.

It was a nice actually, a lot fancier than the rest of the place. It was most probably newly renovated to make sure that there wasn’t mold or something.

“It looks fine.” You mentioned once you came out of the bathroom and watched Ashton with a finger in front of his mouth.

“At least you’re safe. We managed to get to your apartment when Calum decided to crash into Michael.” You recognized Luke’s voice on the other end of the phone where Ashton was speaking.

“I didn’t crash into him the idiot could have just looked over his shoulder when suddenly turning.” You heard Calum defend himself over the phone and you almost wanted to roll your eyes.

“Yeah... I’m stuck with that for the night.... Just promise me that’s she’s safe.” You heard Luke again and nodded your head just to yourself. You were okay.

“We’re both startled but perfectly fine. This place is a hole but it’s okay to sleep here. I think Walker and the gang decided to follow you so they don’t suspect us to be here.” Ashton explained and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yes, I assume as well. They don’t dare to walk inside,” Luke commented with a chuckle, “Oh and you also got a room with two single beds right?”

Both yours and Ashton’s eyes widened in surprise and Ashton stammered a few silent words before settling with;

“Gotta blast.”

Of course, it was suspicious to just hang up the phone like that but Ashton didn’t know what else to do.

You couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit and a smile was forming in the corner of Ashton’s lips.

“What a way to handle the situation.” You mumbled but regardless smiled at him.

He shrugged his shoulder and walked past you to walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Just by the sound of it you almost wanted to close your eyes because you honestly couldn’t wait for the warmth.

“Enough place for two.” Ashton was careful when he mentioned it and you nodded your head in agreement.

Stripping down to your underwear you were the first one to walk in, instantly feeling goosebumps form on your cold body by the warm water connecting.

You silently closed your eyes and waited for Ashton to walk inside as well, his chest pressed against your back.

He was looking down at your underwear with a raised eyebrow and you carefully looked up at him.

“It was wet anyway...” You shrugged, not wanting to get into a further explanation.

He nodded his head by your excuse and leaned his arm up to move the head of the shower higher.

One of the disadvantages of being tall. You never knew where you would need to bend your knees.

The bathroom looked pretty dark because of the brown, Black and grey colours of both walls, floor, and furniture but the strong small lights graved into the ceiling helped a lot. Everything was marble so it also had its bit of shine.

Ashton leaned his head back and let the water go through his curls.

You could just imagine what kind of pleasure he was going through.

You stood for a full minute in silence. Just letting the water fill out the usual sounds while he ran his fingers through his hair.

You weren’t supposed to look at him for so long but you couldn’t help it.

No matter how many times you tried to look away your eyes drifted back to his toned chest right in front of you.

“You’re still freezing.”

You looked up at his statement and afterward down at your body.

You still had goosebumps all over your body. It wasn't something you had control of but the warm water still hadn’t adjusted to your body temperature it felt like it was stinging and burning.

“It will be better soon.” You pouted your upper lip and shrugged.

A rush ran through your veins when he wrapped his arms around your body. All his hair on his body had turned into a dark brown just like his hair had.

You were about to say that it was okay and he didn't need to do the gesture but once he had you in his arms you didn't want him to let go again.

You leaned your hair against his chest and ignored the water that was running right down your face.

You could see droplets of water hanging onto your eyelashes.

A sigh came from him and you looked up for his attention.

He was looking down at you already but with a thoughtful look on his face, his lips between his teeth.

You wanted to stand on your toes he could tell. The way you were standing so carefully looking up at him screamed for words.

With one arm still wrapped around your waist, he used the other through his hair again.

You didn't need to tell him what you wanted because he could already tell.

“You should know that if we start kissing… If I start to kiss you…” His voice lowered word by word, his thumb coming up to touch your wet bottom lip.

“I’m afraid that you won’t be able to stop me.”

You felt the shivers fall past your spine by his whispers, no matter how hot the water was it couldn’t compare to how you were feeling. Your chest was heaving up and down faster than ever.

He moved his thumb away from your lips to caress your cheekbone, removing a few droplets of water from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t think you understand exactly how much I want your lips.”

It was the last thing he said before you leaned on your toes to grasp into his wet curly locks and pressed him against the cold steamed bathroom tiles.

The kiss was in nowhere the category of a peck, it held all the feelings and emotions you had been keeping from each other for all this time until they were finally released.

His grip around your waist was secure, yet also passionate. His biceps were tensing by the position and with the water dripping down from his body you were left breathless by the lightest touch.

It was with a quick flip he had you in reversed positions, your back forced against the wall but the pain was a tease. He was out of breath you could tell by the way his chest was heaving up and down.

But fuck breathing. He could kiss you for three hours without the slightest seconds of a breath.

[metronomeihear]

Please Listen

I’m not sure how many of you know this, and I’m not sure how many of you care, but I’m sick.

I have a genetic disorder called CIRS that makes me sensitive to things in my environment, things like mold. A few years ago, I was exposed to black mold growing in my bedroom, mold that got there as a result of the bathroom above my room having a leak. My illness causes all sorts of havoc on my body, including swelling in my brain, inflammation in my joints and ribs, and imbalances in my hormones. As a result, I have days where I’m in so much pain where I can’t breathe (though those are thankfully far and few between), issues with long term and short term memory, and what has been dubbed “brain fog.” (Essentially it’s making really stupid and strange decisions that seem logical at the time, but in reality aren’t. Things like putting your cell phone in the fridge instead of the milk. You know you’re supposed to put something in the fridge, it just doesn’t quite click that it’s supposed to be the milk and not your phone). 

My entire family has this illness. It’s a strange twist of fate that both my parents have the genes, and thus all my siblings and I have it too. Of the five of us, my mother easily has it the worst. She got ill before I was born, and got worse when I was very young, and I can remember a period of my life where I was lucky if I saw her outside of her room more than once every few weeks. She is better now that she’s getting proper treatment, but she’s still the most ill. 

After her, I am probably the most sick person in my family. I have issues with my hands when I try to type for long periods of time, or if I try to do things like hold a game controller for more than a few hours. My ribs have flare ups, usually minor flare ups that aren’t much more than an annoyance (though they have gotten bad enough that I couldn’t do much more than lay there and hope the pain meds would kick in soon). I get headaches often and I’m prone to migraines. I am physically incapable of standing for more than 10 minutes at a time without having to sit down. I have issues with remembering names, places, things that have been asked of me, and things that I have done before. I can’t remember what I had for dinner yesterday, and I once couldn’t remembering the name of my first boyfriend, not even three months after we broke up. I am incapable of telling how much time has passed since an incident occurred, prone to dizzy spells, and often make poor decisions due to brain fog. Despite all of this, I have been told that I do not look sick.

I am not asking for pity. I am not asking you do donate to a fund, or to message a politician, or start a war.

 I have a story to tell and I am asking for you to listen.

My mother once told me a story about the time she had gall stones. I don’t remember the specifics of the story, and the specifics don’t truly matter in this case, but the story went something like this:

My mother woke one night from a bout of really intense pain. This was before I was born, back when it was just my mother and my father living just across the street from my grandparents. She woke up next to my father, who was still sleeping, and she just breathed. She breathed through the pain until it went away, and then went back to sleep. That was the end of it. Only the pain kept coming back. It would always fade after a short while, so whenever it happened, by mother would just breathe through it until it did. My father was worried, however, and insisted my mother go to a doctor. They described the incidents to the doctor, and the doctor prescribed some pain meds and sent my mother home. “It’s just gas,” he said, “It will pass.” Only it didn’t. Eventually, my mother was hit by a bout of pain so intense my father drove her to the emergency room, where they found out that the pain was a result of my mother passing gall stones.

Gall stones have been described as one of the most painful things a person can ever experience. There have been people who, when they pass them, cannot do much more than scream. My mother, on the other hand, simply got up and continued with her day. This was because she was already used to pain.

It’s not because my father is abusive or anything like that--that couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s that genetic illness I mentioned earlier. That was the cause of her pain, though at the time everyone thought it was the result of Arthritis, rather than CIRS. She was used enough to pain that passing gall stones simply didn’t bother her until she tried to pass one that was too large for her to do so. 

It’s truly ridiculous what a person can get used to. I saw a study once that tested how long it would take for a person to get used to seeing the entire world upside down. It took them only three days before they were functioning normally. It was the same after the glasses they were wearing to flip their view was taken off. Only three days to get used to your vision being flipped.

Because my mother was as used to pain as she was, the doctor she visited misdiagnosed her. Because I am as used to pain as I am, and because my illness does not affect my appearance, people do not believe I am sick. Not unless I’m having a really bad day, where everything hurts, and even then I might not be believed. 

I'm in college. At the college I attend, there is an office for the disabled and I went there to get forms to fill out to help me make it through the semester. I was feeling fairly good that day, so I left my cane at home, and as a result the people working in that office did not believe I was sick. They didn’t say anything, but I could see the disbelief in their faces, and when I looked back after leaving, I saw them shooting glances at me and whispering. Other than that, I have been told, to my face, that I do not look sick.

And why would I? I have good days and bad days. I rarely leave my home anymore, mostly because I can’t walk very far and there isn’t much for me to do that doesn't involve a lot of walking or being in a building that potentially has mold in it. When I’m out and about and I don’t have my cane with me, there’s no sign that I’m ill. No sign. But I am. And if you looked at my home, you’d see that.

We have a counter in the kitchen that’s dedicated solely to supplements and medicine. We have boxes upon boxes of syringes and saline and needles and medicine. We have an oxygen machine because sometimes our brains don’t get enough so we need the extra help. We take pills at every meal, pills after we wake up, and pills to go to sleep. We eat special diets because our stomachs can’t handle regular, commercial food. We attend online schools because the last time that I attended a normal school, there was an issue with the air vents in my math classroom that triggered my illness so bad that I was down for two days after entering that room. I was pulled from school after that incident.

I compare it to mental illnesses in my head sometimes. To things like depression. I know a lot about mental illnesses, too, because that’s something my family suffers from as well. My brother is autistic. My sister has ADHD. Both my mother and I suffer from chronic depression. We look perfectly fine, and so often people just don’t believe us when we say that we feel these things, when in reality it’s all very real.

I live in fear that one day our insurance won’t be enough to cover the medicine we need. Already it’s approaching that point. We have to focus on what we can treat and what we can’t for no other reason than the insurance can’t cover everything and we can’t afford to pay out of pocket. I live in America, and I really hate the American medical pricing, because everything is ridiculously over priced and it’s literately something that’s killing my family slowly. I live in fear that one day one of my siblings will be exposed to something really bad and get just as sick as I am, or worse, just as sick as my mother is. I live in fear that my father will go to work in a building that’s mold infested, and come home every day sicker than the last because he doesn’t have a choice. He’s been out of the job for months now, and tonight we celebrated because he finally found one again, just as we were starting to wonder if we were going to lose our house. It doesn’t matter if the building he’s going to work in now might be mold infested, because we don’t have a choice. This is the only job he can have. The only job in months of searching that would accept him. And if he raises a fuss, they can drop him just like that. That’s what the last place he worked at did, after all.

(Fuck you, Intel. Seriously, fuck you.)

I’m not sure why I’m writing this out. Maybe it’s because that’s how I deal with things. I write. I write poetry dedicated to sunsets that sound like suicide notes. I write stories were the main character burned to death in her last life, and suffers from PTSD as a result. I write stories were boys walk to their deaths and nothing can stop them. I write stories were people suffer and hurt and struggle and fail. I write long rants that I never post anywhere because I’m afraid of what people would say if they read them. I write and I write and I write until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

I write stories were those people pick themselves back up. I write stories were the outcasts find family and friends. I write stories where the nightmares that haunt them become easier to bare because a friend is there when they wake up. I write stories where the suicidal boy finds someone to catch them. I write stories were people, normal people just like me, find home and happiness and safety. I write long rants to give to my parents to say the things I can’t bring myself to physically open my moth and say out loud. Things like how sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart trying to keep everything together when it seems like everything is crashing down around me. Things like how frustrating it is to not know how to help my brother with his homework because he thinks differently than I do. Things like how much it hurts to hear that my sister can’t force herself to say “I love you,” and “Good night,” when I go to greet her before bed. 

I love my life. I love my family more than I can say and I have never been more grateful for anything than how loving and supportive they are of me and my interests. I love the friends I have made on this website, as few and far between as they are, and I love that I’m finding people to talk to on Discord who share my interests. I love that the people I meet are so supportive of me, who call me strong for being able to talk and write about when I was suicidal when there are days when I feel like the weakest person on the planet. I have been to Yosemite and seen a deer walk right up to my table, so close I could almost touch it. I have seen water falls and sunrises on mountains and the ocean from high up in a plane. I have visited my grandparents in another country half way across the world to celebrate their 80th birthday, and walked a beach in Hawaii at night, my feet in water that felt so warm. I never get hateful reviews on my stories, the worst review I’ve ever gotten on a story I’ve written being a short comment about hating yaoi. I’ve been thanked for the things I’ve written, been told I brought them hope with what I’ve written. “Writing this chapter was an act of bravery I’ll never forget.”  A reviewer once wrote that in a chapter I wrote about a suicidal character, and I remember just staring at that review and smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I remember getting a review once, only two words long, that read “Thank you,” and bursting out crying because I’d had a really shitty day up to that point and that review--I’m not sure how to describe it. It made my day, made me think that everything I am doing, all the things I am struggling with, are worth it, and that feeling is something priceless, something precious. 

And then there’s today. Today has not been one of my good days. I woke up with minor aches and pains, pain that was worse than what I usually feel on a day to day basis, but nothing too bad. I posted another chapter of a drabble series I’m working on, a funny series that’s something like 90% crack with how ridiculous it is. I went on with my day, browsed through tumblr and rebloged everything that caught my eye. I worked on school work, got distracted, and worked on it some more. My pain got worse however, and it hurts to type right now. I’ve taken my pain meds, and they’ve taken the edge off of things, but it still hurts. My family noticed this. 

Today we were celebrating. My dad finally got a job, so we were having ribs and freshly dug up sweet potato and red wine. It was delicious, but it hurt for me to get up and out of the chair, and I couldn’t cut the meat properly without a steak knife because my hands hurt too much. After we were finished eating, and I put my plate on the counter to be washed, my father opened his arms for a hug, and he told me he was sorry.

He said to me, “I’m sorry you’re in so much pain.” I told him it wasn’t his fault. And he said to me, “Yes it is. And I’m sorry.”

And I wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood that it wasn’t his fault, that it wasn’t anyone's fault, and that the only reason this family was still going was because he has been working so hard for all of us, when anyone else would have left a long, long time ago.

I am frustrated. I am so, so frustrated.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t know why I’m posting this. It’s not going to change the fact that I’m sick. It’s not going to change the fact that our insurance sucks and the leader of the country I live in wants to take away even that. It’s not going to change the fact that my father feels guilty for something that’s not his fault, and it’s not going to change any of the problems my family faces. 

But I want to. I want people to know that there are people like me out there, who suffer for reasons beyond their control. I want people to know that not every person you speak to has a perfect life, and someone who looks healthy could be dying right in front of you. I want people to consider people like me when they vote, to not throw us under the bus just because we’re a minority, or because our voices aren’t loud enough, or because our issues aren’t as public and well known as other issues are.

I want people to listen to me when I say I’m sick.