#// in me and my boyfriend's personal au actually they are the dads to silver and that's where I pull some of my references from // | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moomine · 2 months ago

Note

Dad swansea and reader x daisuke established relationship

black friday | daisuke

author's note: this is based on the q&a where the devs said swansea was a sneakerhead lol. i love love love the concept of dad-swansea sm!! it actually maybe sorta kinda has me brainstorming another series.. thank you for the request! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) (modern au?) The semester is over and winter break has just begun. You and Daisuke met on campus and have been dating for a while now. When it's time for him to finally meet your dad, Swansea, he insists on getting him something for the season.

word count: 2,661

warnings: no trigger warnings (all fluff here)! all characters are 18+

now playing: Drugdealer, Kate Bollinger - "Pictures of You"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The mall was a bustling hellscape. Packed like sardines, people pushed and shoved as they tried to meander from place to place. The line for the shoe store wrapped around the corner, down a long, wide hall, and into the food court. You stood side by side with Daisuke, your coat rustling as you hugged yourself. A cold draft blew past as other customers came and went through the grand entrance, each time causing a shiver to rake through you harshly. Daisuke, who was previously twisting his silver rings out of an anxious habit, stopped and began running his hands up and down the length of your arms. The friction of his hands sent waves of much-appreciated warmth throughout your body. You looked up at him, a grateful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Of course. It won’t be so bad once we get ‘round the corner.” Daisuke peeked over your head and past the line, peering ahead to see how much longer it would take. It was moving at a snail’s pace, and all he could think about was empty shelves. In the nightmare of worst-case scenarios running rampant in his mind, the sneakers he had been keeping a watchful eye on for months were already sold out. Daisuke’s brows furrowed as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing at the soft skin absentmindedly.

“Maybe we should have gotten here earlier,” you observed, glancing around at the line of people as it only grew larger. You turned back to your boyfriend with a sympathetic expression, features softening as you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. Y’know that, right? My dad will be happy just to meet you at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I absolutely do.” He laughed nervously, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using his now free hand to run his fingers through his hair. “You’re, like, the most important person in my life. Your dad has to like me, he just has to. If he doesn’t I might straight up disappear. POOF! Daisuke’s gone, vanished into thin air.”

“You gotta relax. He’s gonna love you, I know he will,” you replied, leaning into him for a little extra warmth.

Daisuke held you tighter and shook his head apprehensively. “I just gotta make sure. I really, really want to make a good impression.”

“And you will! You wanna know how I know?” you asked, shifting under his arm so you were facing him. The line moved up and so did the two of you.

He nodded, eyes filling with admiration as his gaze fell from the line before you two to your face. God, he loved your face. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand how a guy like him got so lucky. Daisuke knew he was a pretty good-looking guy, but you were gorgeous. Must have been his charming personality and impeccable sense of style.

“I know because you’re kind. ‘Cause you have a good heart and you care so much. My dad’s a good judge of character, he’ll see that.” Daisuke opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a finger and pressed it to his lips before he could. “Hey, I’m not finished. So what you don’t know what you want to be yet? You’re ambitious and talented, and you’ve got time. Don’t stress about that, ‘kay? He won’t care, I promise.”

“Can I talk now?” Daisuke asked, your finger still pressed against his lips.

“You may,” you replied with a playful grin, your hand dropping to your side once again.

“I know I technically don’t have to, but I’m gonna get these shoes and impress the pants off your dad,” he stated, all proud until he had the chance to process what it was he had said. “That didn’t come out right…”

You laughed, taking another step forward as the line continued to move up.

A couple of weeks had passed since Daisuke bought those sneakers. Finals season came and went, ushered out by the frantic wrap-up of the fall semester and the introduction to winter break. It was early December when the two of you finally drove back home, meaning it had finally come time for your boyfriend to meet your parents.

The entire way there Daisuke was a nervous mess. That anxiety only intensified the moment you were leading him to the front door of your family’s home. On top of the gifts he was already carrying, Daisuke had insisted on still carrying the bulk of your luggage inside as well. With one hand he held his presents to your folks, and in the other, he used to pull your suitcase behind him; your backpack was slung over his shoulders. He said it was about chivalry or something like that. As you stepped onto the front porch an onslaught of barking erupted from just beyond the door.

“Lucy! C’mon, old girl, that's enough!” your dad, Swansea, shouted from inside the house.

You turned to smile at Daisuke only to notice his attention was busy elsewhere. He looked down at the gifts in his arms, biting at his lips. After a moment he noticed you had stopped and his gaze drifted back to you, offering you a timid smile of his own. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping it there as you began to rub small, comforting circles against the wooly fabric of his coat.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whispered in a soft tone.

Daisuke looked down at the gifts in his hands, then back to you with a quick nod.

Now with his approval, you unlatched your keys from your belt loop and unlocked the door. As it swung open with a familiar groan, Lucy, your elderly border collie, came stumbling up to the doorway as she barked an excited ‘hello’. The dark patches of her fur were speckled with long, white hairs and her eyes held a little gray in them. She breathed heavily from her mouth, panting with her tongue hanging out. She looked from you to Daisuke, just as excited to see his new face as your well-known one.

“Hi, mama.” You knelt to her level, petting her head with one hand and scratching her chin with the other. “I’m home!” you shouted into the house.

The smells of garlic and onion wafted from the direction of the kitchen. Daisuke closed the door behind him, looking around the entryway with a curious eye. It dawned on him at that moment that he was standing in your childhood home. Over the course of your life, you had walked in and out of that very entryway countless times —going to school, coming home from your first job at that local coffee shop, leaving for prom or practice.

“Took you long enough,” Swansea called back as he made his way from the kitchen to the two of you. “I was startin’ to worry you wouldn’t make it in time for dinner.”

Swansea stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a red apron that read ‘Kiss the cook’ tied loosely around his torso —one of the many stupid Father’s Day presents your mom had gotten him over the years. You stood up quickly, racing to him with open arms. He eagerly took you into a tight hug, his clothes and skin smelling faintly of 3-in-1 soap and motor oil.

“Haha. How about a ‘welcome home’ or ‘I missed you so much’?” you said sarcastically as you pulled away from him.

“Welcome home, kid. I missed you.” Swansea’s normal gruff tone of voice was much softer as he spoke to you.

Daisuke stood awkwardly by the front door, still carrying your belongings as well as his own. You glanced over your shoulder with a wide smile and motioned toward him. “Oh! Dad, this is Daisuke. Daisuke, this is my dad.” You took a step back, allowing the two of them to get a better view of one another.

His eyes shot from Lucy, who was now lying at his feet, and toward your dad. Almost too quickly, Daisuke let go of the suitcase and took a long step toward Swansea. He extended his hand, ready to shake, and adorned a toothy smile. The gifts along his other arm wobbled as he reached your father, which he clumsily saved from falling at the last minute.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Daisuke said.

“That so? Looks like you got a lot on your plate, son.” Swansea took his hand, holding it firmly as he shook it. Daisuke did his best to match his grip, almost squeezing too hard. Swansea motioned with a nod to your luggage still on Daisuke’s person, along with the gifts in his arms.

“What this? Nothing I can’t handle,” your boyfriend replied, almost smugly. “These are actually for you. Well, and your wife.”

“I think we’re gonna go take my stuff upstairs,” you butt in, looking between the two with a slightly worried expression.

“All right then. Your mom’ll be home soon, dinner’s on in fifteen. I’m makin’ paella.” Swansea turned around with a skeptical look. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you, dad!”

Once the two of you were upstairs, it became incredibly clear that Daisuke’s anxiety had intensified greatly. As the two of you walked through the threshold into your room, he let out a quiet sigh —both out of relief and distress. Over the semester, your room had become closer to a memory and now, as you returned to it exactly as you had left it, it had become an almost nostalgic sight. It was exactly as Daisuke had imagined. The pale blue walls were littered with band posters and pictures of you with friends from high school. You had everything you’d expect in a student’s room. In one corner, snugged away and smothered in soft blankets and pillows, was a full-sized bed. In another were a mismatched desk and dresser. Daisuke could easily see you sitting at that desk, engaging with one of your many hobbies or finishing up some assignments. The visual managed to make a small smile creep onto his lips, but it faltered quickly when he heard Swansea on the phone with your mother just downstairs.

“He hates me, I can already tell,” Daisuke said. He carefully set down your luggage as well as the gifts, tucking them away nicely on your desk.

“You don’t know that. My dad’s just like that with everyone at first, but he always warms up eventually. I promise.” You sat on your bed, pulling your shoes from your feet and tossing them in different directions.

To keep himself from pacing, Daisuke took a seat beside you before flopping back into the comforter. The plush blanket quickly engulfed him as he rested an arm over his eyes. With a little laugh, you laid down on your side next to him, caressing his face with your hand. It felt soft against his skin as you cupped his cheek. His arm fell back to his side as he leaned into your touch, letting out a content sigh at the comfort that alone brought him. His eyes trailed over your face with that same lovesick adoration he normally harbored while looking at you —a stare that said more than he ever could with words. He knew he would never get tired of looking at you.

“It’s going to be okay,” you finally said, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to melt into you. Like it was second nature, Daisuke tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and closed the gap between the two of you. Sparks of electricity tingled against your lips as he kissed you softly. Abandoning their posts, his hands found their proper positions —one on your hip and the other along the back of your neck— and pulled you closer. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips as he kissed you, your chest becoming light at his touch.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, keeping his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he breathed, sounding far more relaxed than before. “So much.”

His gaze met yours once more, and it looked like he was going in for another kiss. Just as you felt his breath against your cupid’s bow, there was a knock at the door, followed by the sound of Swansea clearing his throat.

“C’mon, get your asses up. I’m makin’ you set the table before your mother gets home. I want it to look nice for her, understood?” Your dad looked between the two of you with that questionable face Daisuke was starting to become accustomed to. He then turned around, shaking his head from side to side.

Dinner was a surprisingly quick affair. To nobody’s surprise, Swansea’s paella was a hit —other than a couple of gripes from your mother who had grown sick of the dish. She fell in love with Daisuke from the first second she saw him, and she only loved him more when he got comfortable enough to talk. After everyone was finished eating, Daisuke insisted on helping clean up and he did so happily. While your mom stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, Swansea, Daisuke, and you sat in the living room as your dad began to open his gift.

Swansea tore into the wrapping paper, eyes going wide when he saw the brightly colored shoebox beneath. He looked up from the present in his hands, and his gaze fell to Daisuke with an expression of pure disbelief.

“Son, I-” he started before promptly getting cut off by you.

“Just open it, dad.”

Daisuke shifted beside you as Swansea discarded the rest of the wrapping paper. He leaned forward, elbows resting on either of his knees as he bit at his lower lip. Swansea ran his hand along the top of the box and slowly opened it. After lifting the tissue paper and getting a proper look at the sneakers underneath, Swansea turned to your boyfriend again.

“These aren’t easy to come by. How on earth did you get them?”

“I, uh- well, we camped out for them. [Name] told me you had been checking out a pair online for a while, and I thought I’d save you the effort,” Daisuke responded, running a hand along the back of his neck. “It was totally worth it. I got a super good deal on ‘em and everything.”

“Thank you.” Your dad just nodded with the faintest smile on his face. Although his words were simple, cut, and dry, it was obvious to you and Daisuke alike that he was truly grateful.

“Of course. I’m really happy you like them,” Daisuke said. He was practically glowing, beaming with pride as he looked from Swansea to you. He mouthed an oblivious ‘hell yeah’ in celebration.

Later that night while you were getting ready for bed, Daisuke ventured down the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom. Along the way, he passed your parents' room. Through the crack in the door, a narrow stream of light illuminated the otherwise darkened hall. Daisuke froze in place as he overheard your mom and Swansea talking from inside.

“So, what did you think of him? He’s just a delight. Isn’t he, hun?” Your mom questioned.

“Who? Daisuke?” Swansea replied. The springs within the mattress groaned as he eased himself into bed. “The boy seems like a good man. I like him for her. She needs someone who’ll help her loosen up. Poor girl is too damn high-strung.”

Realizing he probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, Daisuke rushed to the bathroom with a look of pride on his face. Your dad liked him. Better yet, Swansea thought he was good for you. That was a better gift than anything he could have hoped for.

#reader #x reader #reader insert #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #daisuke #fem reader #curly mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing

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miekasa · 3 years ago

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mie!! since u write such beautiful gorgeous astounding breathtaking life-changing tearjerking fics, do YOU have any good fic recs that you personally love 🤔

I do! I have a whole blog of wonderful fics I’ve read (tho I desperately need to update it/reblog the ones in my drafts and tag them) @ackermeun for more if you want because there are many lovely, talented writers; but I’ll list a few of my faves for Levi and Eren below 😌😌

Levi

kiss me more by @vennilavee

Now, I could recommend you anything and everything by Saran and I have no doubt that you would love all of it. There’s not a single thing in her masterlist that I dislike, she even made me okay with the idea of pegging Levi bye. The entire tbah universe (specifically parental moments one) has a special place in my heart, but recently the perpendicular world has been on my mind, and might be coming for number one. Either way, you’re gonna love it. She writes Levi in his slightly bitchy, kinda needy, implicitly affectionate, true to nature form, and I am so grateful for it. Also, Saran is a comedian.

silver soul by @oi-levi (now posting from @bibblelevi)

I suck at keeping up with series, and, so, naturally, I’m terribly behind on this one, but I’m gonna go ahead and rec the whole thing to you anyway, because I have no doubt that the other chapters are just as great the two I’ve read so far. The way she writes Levi... when I tell you I could wrap myself up in a blanket and binge this whole series, and her entire masterlist, and be very content I mean it; her writing feels warm, that’s the only way I can explain it.

the art of tea composition by @karikarasuno

I don’t remember how or when I found this fic exactly, probably just scrolling through the tag, but I love it. Domestic fluff with Levi, allowing me to pretend I’m a morning person, and just the right kind of smut to go with it. Simple and very, very effective. I’ve reread it a few times by now, no shame.

where you’re meant to be by @deludedimagines

After you read this, I also suggest just going after the whole masterlist. I cannot express how grateful I am to have found this blog PLEASE. Her characterization of Levi is perfect, and something about her prose feels very clean and simple, but elevated and layered at the same time. This one-shot in particular is one of my favorite canonverse pieces, I’m a sucker for a classic injured lover trope.

the ones who matter most by @deludedimagines

Yeah... this shouldn’t be a surprise. Fantastic writing, fluff in canonverse has a special place in my heart because I think it can be really hard to pull off well; it’s difficult to balance a sense of softness within the aot universe for the obvious reasons, and getting Levi’s caring nature right can be (unfortunately) so hard to find. Good thing people like Sorcha are here. Enjoy more fluff. Also this fic is particularly fantastic to me not just because of the injured lover trope, but because the 104th babies pay a visit and you all know how much I love a good glimpse of reluctant adoptive dad Levi hehe

bullet by @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface

If you can’t tell by now, I love canonverse fluff, tho this fic isn’t fluff in the traditional sense, but I think that makes it all the much better. Perfect depiction of real life shit that would go down in the aot world paired with Levi’s need to protect his s/o. It’s fantastic.

the knife by @therealvalkyrie

I didn’t mean to turn this into Mie’s Favorite Canon Fics Showcase, but here we are anyway. As much as I love a good injured lover trope (and this does have that hehe), I love a good kickass reader insert, too. Shoutout to Valkyrie for included both in this fic, and Levi being proud of his s/o... well you can imagine how much I liked that bye

dante’s inferno by @alrightberries

College au + roommates au with Levi... that should be enough for you to read this lmfao, no but actually it’s adorable. Not to mention friends to lovers... if you know me you know how I feel about that, I’ll gobble up every f2l fic until I’m dead and gone. Not to mention there’s a cat and Levi won’t admit he likes it, or he’s jealous of it. Simply cannot go wrong here.

waves know shores by @onwiings

Bro I don’t even like the idea of public sex and I’m not even a fan of water like that but this fic has me wrapped around it’s pinky lmfaoooo. Some of the best Levi smut I’ve read and you already know how I feel when Levi and reader have cute interactions with the 104th in fics. Really it’s checking every item on my list.

Eren

speed racer by @emeren

I’m pretty sure I found this fic during my midterms last semester, and when I tell you I’m so grateful for it lmaooo. It’s really just a good au, I think it fits Eren (honestly barking at just the concept) and the writing brings it all to life.

under the moonlight by @murmikaa

I’d have to be dumb not to recommend this to you. I love reading longer fics, and if you do, then this will 100% satisfy you. The whole story is great and immersive, not just between Eren and the reader; their relationships with the other characters are really what makes this special imo. There’s also beach sex, so. Obviously it’s good.

untitled.avi by @puredivinity (now @celestidarling)

Naur you must of thought wrong if you thought at least one of Mara’s fics wouldn’t be here. I’m obsessed, I think I’ve read it three times minimum. I read all her Eren fics, and you should too. She writes him in such a dreamy way, almost like he’s right there and too good to be true that you must be hallucinating. Immaculate.

midnight snacks by @writertitan

Dumb, college-typical antics and fluff with Eren... obviously you know I’m about that. The whole concept is so mundane, but so cute, you can’t help but fall for it because it could be so real!! I love that kinda stuff hehe

i’m your satellite by @ackerfics

Comparing hand sizes with Eren!! YEAAAAH!! No, okay, but I read the summary and was ready to dive in because... size kink go crazy, but when I tell you I was so blown away to find out that it was not only from Eren’s pov, but that he was being a complete simp and down terrible the whole time. Normalize boyfriends being completely fucking in love with their gfs that simple shit like the size of their hand makes them wanna simp even harder!!!!

eren as an ass man by @hznji

I’m dying on the hill that Eren is an ass guy and you should too because it’s the objective truth. Fluff, Eren being a complete dog as per usual, Eren’s being touchy (I will also die on the hill that he’s touchy as fuck and has no concept of personal space) and just in genral snarky but cute banter. Gotta love that.

Jean

tears over beers by @appplepii

When I tell you this is my favorite Jean fic, I mean it. Friends to lovers with hopelessly pining Jean + oblivious reader = everything I could have asked for in a fic, AND it’s from Jean’s pov too!!! INCREDIBLE!!! The pining made me yearn, and the smut was so well done, too.

this drabble by @arlerted

Whatever, whatever, WHATEVER!!! I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!!! Cal is right, don’t do drugs but... this mf... this imagine.... has been burned into my mind since the first time I fucking read it bye. Callie also writes a bunch of filthy (affectionate <3) fics and drabbles and lewds and you should read them, preferably when you’re alone and with the lights off.

#anonymous #um you probably didnt ask for 1k words worth of reviews but here u go anyway!!!#fic recs

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cocobeanncteez · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 3)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

Three weeks later, you could pretty much call yourself a member of a mafia gang. Well, that's what you were now even if you were in slight denial.

You spent a lot of time with Ateez. Hongjoong taught you how to shoot like a pro, Jongho taught you how to defend yourself if you don't have a weapon, and Yeosang and Seonghwa taught you medical related stuff such as removing a bullet from a body and treating a gunshot wound. Yeosang also taught you the basics of hacking, but you sucked at it. San, Wooyoung, and Aeji taught you how to seduce a target, and you nearly died of embarrassment when you had to practice with Wooyoung as the target. Jiwoo pretty much gave you some of her bubbliness while she and Yeoreum taught you a bit about illegal international business deals. The three girls also told you a hell lot about their sex lives when you all had a girls' night a few days ago. On the other hand, Yunho and Mingi were just playing 'tossing Kiah' (as they call it), which was literally just them throwing and catching you like as if you were a ball. The giants found it extremely fascinating that you were an entire foot shorter than them. Sometimes, they would use the top of your head as an armrest.

Hongjoong bought you a phone, but unfortunately, you couldn't log into any of your social media accounts, or even your email as your cousin and uncle were searching for you and the culprits who made your cousin unconscious the night he was going to sell you.

"Kiah, do want some orange juice?" Mingi asked you from the kitchen while he poured himself a glass. You nod your head and he poured some for you too. Yeosang was there as well, busy eating fried chicken.

"Hey, Kiah?" Mingi called out, making you look up at him. "You never really told us about your parents." He handed you your juice.

"My mother died when I was a newborn," you replied, sipping on your juice. "My father... well, I rarely saw him after he made me live with my uncle. Now no one has seen him in months." Both the boys noticed how sad you were when you spoke about your father. You really wanted to see him; you didn't even know whether he was dead or alive.

"What's your father's name and age?" Yeosang questioned. "I could track him or at least find out if he's all right."

"Moon Dongwoo and he's 49 years old," you answered with a small smile. "Thank you, Yeosang."

After about three hours, Yeosang approached you while you were talking to Aeji and some of the boys. He sat on the couch adjacent to you after briefly greeting everyone.

"So I tried to track your father, Kiah," Yeosang stated nonchalantly. "And I found absolutely nothing."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"There are zero records of him," Yeosang explained, "Like no bank or property details… To put it in simple words, it's like as if he doesn't exist."

You frowned. "So he's… d-dead?"

"Don't know," Yeosang shrugged. "There are no death records either. There were a couple of men with the same name as him, but no one was 49 years old."

You pondered about it for a while. Why would your dad erase all traces of his existence? Even if he didn't, someone else did. But why?

"Wait," you blurted out. "Did you check with the police station? My dad is a cop."

San, who was listening to the conversation, nearly chokes on the sprite that he was drinking. "Your dad is a cop and you're here, living in a mafia gang's house?!"

"I know right?!" Yunho said from beside him and you only shrug in response.

"I checked the police station as well," Yeosang remarked. "Still no records."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "That's just strange. He's a cop, there has to be at least something about him at the police station."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Kiah," Yeosang said in a soft tone, giving you a reassuring smile. "We'll find him."

The next day after you woke up, you found everyone seated in the living room, lost in deep thought. You quietly sat beside Jiwoo, wondering whether you should ask why everyone is so quiet.

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Wooyoung said after glancing at you while you stared at him in confusion. What idea was he talking about?

"Yeah, it's a terrible idea," Hongjoong retorted, glancing at you as well.

"Kiah," Mingi starts, grabbing your attention. "What do you think about attending a masquerade party?"

"You mean a mafia masquerade party?" you emphasized.

"Of course," he replied.

"Ah, it's cool, I guess?" you said nonchalantly; you were getting used to the mafia life, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it.

"It's settled then," San stated, getting up from the couch and stretching his arms. "Kiah is Hongjoong's date for the party."

"Knew it," Jongho murmured.

"No," Hongjoong protested. "A lot of people saw her face at the auction. It's a terrible idea."

"Well, it's a masquerade party hosted by our ally," Seonghwa remarked. "No one will try shit even if they recognize her."

"Plus, we're all going to be there. We can't leave Kiah alone here," Yeoreum added and Jiwoo nodded her head in agreement.

Hongjoong sighed. "Fine."

"You look gorgeous, Kiah!" Aeji squealed after doing your makeup. Yeoreum just finished doing Jiwoo's hair and started doing your hair.

"Hongjoong won't be able to keep his hands to himself," Yeoreum remarked with a smirk, making you blush.

"I'm surprised he hasn't made a move yet," Aeji said.

"We all know he wants to," Jiwoo mumbled while taking a mirror selfie.

You chuckled. "Nothing has happened yet."

"Yet?" Yeoreum teased you, curling a strand of your hair with the curling iron. "So you want something to happen, huh?"

“I—”

"You obviously do."

You playfully rolled your eyes at her. "Don't accidentally burn my hair, Yeoreum!" The girls laughed at the sight of you getting flustered

"Kiah, what are you planning on wearing?" Aeji asked.

"The black cocktail dress."

"No, you're not wearing that," she protests. "Wear the red dress Jiwoo got you last week."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You'll see," she smirked.

After all of you got ready and slipped into your respective outfits, you went downstairs where the boys were waiting.

As soon as Hongjoong saw you, his lips parted slightly as he scanned you from head to toe. You were wearing a short, strapless red dress that fit your body perfectly, hugging your curves and exposing your highlighted collarbones. You wore silver wedges that matched the silver necklace around your neck. Your long hair was curled and your makeup was simple yet elegant.

"Hongjoong's favorite color is red, by the way. Thank me later," Aeji whispered to you, giving you a wink before she ran into Seonghwa's arms. So that's why she forced you to wear a red dress. You snorted at Aeji's words before your eyes landed on Hongjoong. He looked absolutely ethereal in his black ripped jeans and white t-shirt underneath the leather jacket he was wearing. You expected to see the guys in suits, considering it was a masquerade event, but it looked like you all were going to a club instead. Oh well, maybe this is how the mafia rolls.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Um, if you're both done eye-fucking each other, can we leave? We're getting late," San commented and Jiwoo laughed loudly at her boyfriend's words. The other eight already left and you wondered how you didn't even notice.

Hongjoong doesn't utter a word; he only approaches you and takes your hand in his, leading you to the garage. You, Hongjoong, Jiwoo, and San were riding in the same car.

San begun driving and the car was filled with Jiwoo gushing about how she loved going for Stray Kids' parties. San told you about how Wooyoung introduced Ateez to his friend, Changbin, and that's how Ateez met the rest of Stray Kids.

After a while, you reached Stray Kids' mansion. The exterior was lit up with blue and yellow lights.

Jiwoo handed you a pretty silver eye-mask and you put it on; Hongjoong wore a red mask, Jiwoo wore black, and San wore gold.

"Alright, let's party!" Jiwoo squealed, pulling San along with her, practically running inside.

Hongjoong wrapped an arm around your waist as he led you inside Stray Kids' mansion, scanning the crowd to see if he could find any of his allies.

"Ah, Hongjoong!" you heard someone say, catching your attention. Hongjoong's arm leaves your waist to hug that person.

"Chan! It's been so long, yeah?"

"Very," he agreed before glancing at you. "I see you've got yourself a girl."

Hongjoong chuckled. "This is Moon Kiah. Kiah, this is Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids." Chan stretched his hand out and you shake it.

While Hongjoong spoke to Chan, Jiwoo dragged you away to get a drink. You wondered how hyper she would be when drunk, considering the fact that she was already pretty hyper when sober.

Jiwoo got a couple of tequila shots and you only downed three. "Only three?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you answered with a small giggle. "I have very bad alcohol tolerance."

Jiwoo took her own shots before Wooyoung dragged the two of you to introduce you to the other members of Stray Kids. You were seriously shocked by how young and polite these men were, despite being in the mafia.

"So whose girl is she gonna be now?" Changbin asked.

"She's Hongjoong's girl," Wooyoung answered, and you giggle at that, already a little drunk.

"Mhmm, yeah, I'm Hongjoong's girl, hi!" you squealed before realizing that Jiwoo suddenly wasn't there anymore. "Where's Jiwoo?" you pouted

"Probably would've found someone to talk to or she's in some room with San," Wooyoung replied. "Anyway, let's get you to Hongjoong, little one."

"I'm here," you heard a familiar voice say behind you, making you jump a little before you turned around. "Kim Hongjoong, you…” you trailed off, admiring his face even though half of it was covered with the mask. "You're so fucking hot, like what the actual fuck?!" Wooyoung and Changbin laughed loudly before they walked away, leaving you alone with a slightly stunned Hongjoong.

"How much did you drink, hmm?" Hongjoong asked, looking down at you with soft eyes. You gave him a loving smile while your arms moved to wrap around his neck.

"Three tequila," you mumbled before you suddenly squealed. The DJ started playing one of your favorite songs. "Dance with me," you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, pulling his body closer to yours.

Hongjoong danced with you for a little while, holding you close to his body so that you wouldn't trip and fall in your 5-inch heels. After the song ended, he pulled you to a less crowded area to sit on the sofas. Your heartbeat sped up when Hongjoong made you sit on his lap instead of the free space beside him. You wrapped an arm around his neck while your other hand ran through his soft hair.

"What's wrong with that guy?" you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, glancing at a green-masked guy who was sitting near you, all alone on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a huge smile.

"Probably took LSD," Hongjoong remarked after taking a quick glance at the man.

"Oh," you murmured. "He's a really bad boy. You shouldn't take drugs. Okay, pretty boy?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused by the tipsy side of you. He chuckled prettily in your ear, pulling you even closer to him.

"I don't do drugs, love." He places his cold hand on the skin right above your knee. "I'm a good boy," he whispered in a low tone. Hongjoong could clearly see how much he affected you.

"Liar," you whispered in his ear. You place a kiss right below his ear before trailing kisses along his jawline. You stopped at his chin and pulled away. When his eyes met yours, you leaned in, finally pressing your lips against his. He responded immediately, kissing you back like as if there was no tomorrow. You've never been kissed with such intensity before. Hongjoong's hand that was just above your knee, began to move upwards. You weren't drunk, just tipsy, so you knew what was happening; you were starting to feel really excited as his hand went higher and higher.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong halted his actions and pulled away from you to look up at the woman who interrupted him. She had orange colored hair and was wearing a dark blue eye mask.

"Oh? Royeon?" he got up from his seat, making you stand up along with him. He sounded a little excited, and that made you feel a little jealous. Who was she?

Royeon smirked. "New girl, huh?"

Hongjoong ignored her comment. "Kiah, this is my friend, Royeon."

She snorted. "Friend? I'm quite offended by that title, Joongie." she pouts a little before turning to you. "I'm his first love."

You kept a pokerface on. "That's nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you," you said nonchalantly, trying not to sound bothered about the fact that Hongjoong's first love was standing right in front of your face. She was giving you a bad vibe and you absolutely hated how she was undressing Hongjoong with her eyes. You couldn't deny that you had strong feelings for Kim Hongjoong and you were planning on telling him pretty soon.

You turned to Hongjoong with a small smile on your face. "I'm gonna go get a drink," you said, purposely giving him a kiss that lasted a little longer than it should before you left him alone with his previous lover.

You didn't get a drink. Instead, you went outside, exploring the lit up garden in Stray Kids' mansion. The mansion was a little smaller than Ateez's mansion, but was extremely beautiful nonetheless.

You walked to one of the trees that was lit up with blue lights, taking out your phone to take a few pictures of yourself.

"So Yang Daeyoung hasn't been spotted anywhere?" you heard someone say.

"No," another person replied. "He probably escaped to another country or died.”

"What about his child?" the first person asked.

"No one knows what he or she looks like. Anyway, we have to find Yang Daeyoung and his child before another gang does. I heard many gangs are still searching for him… especially Ateez and CIX. We need to get all that information before them."

You were suddenly really interested in whatever the two people were talking about. You mentally reminded yourself to ask one of the Ateez members about this Yang Daeyoung guy later.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone here?" you heard someone say behind you, words slurred.

You turned to face the man who was in a green eye-mask. "Taking pictures as you can clearly see," you answered the clearly drunk man.

He smirked. "I'm Jinseop," he introduced. "And your attitude is really fucking turning me on, babygirl."

"I didn't ask," you stated, rolling your eyes.

He took a step towards you and you didn't move an inch. "You know," he starts, placing a hand on your shoulder while he towered over you. "I heard Stray Kids have a few spare rooms here. How about we go upstairs and—"

"Get your fucking hands off her."

Jinseop rolled his eyes, not even glancing at the person.

"Now," the person growled. He froze when he finally realized who was talking to him.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized and quickly walked away, leaving you quite stunned.

"Wow, Kim Hongjoong," you remark in amusement after a few seconds. "You scared someone."

Hongjoong doesn't say anything. He only walked towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back, making your back press against the cold surface of a wall. Hongjoong towered over your short height and you could tell he loved how small you looked next to him.

He cupped your cheek with one hand and places his lips against yours, gently kissing you before trailing kisses down to your neck. Your hands immediately went up to grab his hair while he started to suck and kiss the skin of your neck, making you moan softly. He smirked against your skin, absolutely loving how he was the one who was making you feel good. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you a little harder than before while his hands moved down to your ass, grabbing it through the fabric of your dress. You gasped at his actions and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He pulled away after a few seconds.

"You're all mine, Moon Kiah."

Hongjoong led you back inside and you immediately spot his ex-girlfriend who was trying to hit on an unbothered Yunho.

"Yunho," Hongjoong called out and the man looked at him. Royeon's attention was also now on the two of you. "Where are the rest? We have to leave soon."

"I have no clue," Yunho answered. "Yeoreum just took Mingi to the bathroom. The man drank way too much."

You noticed Royeon glaring at you, her eyes flickering between your neck and Hongjoong's messed up hair; you realized that he probably left a nice mark on your neck. You smirked, loving her annoyed reaction. You wrapped your arms around Hongjoong's waist and he smiled at you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Yunho controlled the urge to laugh once he realized what you just did.

Royeon cleared her throat. "So Hongjoong, did you get any news on Yang Daeyoung?" You felt Hongjoong stiffen a little.

"No," Hongjoong simply replied.

She chuckled. "Oh well. That must really suck for you since all... that happened, huh?" You could tell Hongjoong was going to lose his temper. You were extremely curious about this person, considering the fact that you've heard about him twice in less than an hour. "I bet you're dying to capture him. You would've planned so much to—"

"That's none of your business, Royeon," Yunho stated in a cold tone, cutting her off.

She raised her hands up defensively. "What I'm trying to say is I'd like to help."

"We don't need your help," Hongjoong spat through gritted teeth and Royeon was taken aback. You wondered why she looked shocked; was Hongjoong a complete sweetheart to her or something when they were together?

She cleared her throat, clearly offended. "Alright… come over to my place whenever you want me, Hongjoong," she said with a smirk before she walked away. You scoffed at her words and tightened your hold around Hongjoong who was quite amused by your reaction.

He put a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Maybe I should take up her offer, hmm?"

You scowled. "Don't even think about it, Kim Hongjoong. You're mine."

"Say that again, baby."

"You're mine."

Hongjoong crashed his lips onto yours and you kiss him back immediately, loving the feeling of his soft lips moving with yours.

"Oh, they're finally doing something," you heard Jongho say.

"Yeah, I was so tired of hearing Hongjoong whine everyday about how badly he wanted to kiss her," Seonghwa remarked, and you smile against Hongjoong's lips. You pulled away from the kiss, smiling widely at a blushing Hongjoong.

You turned your head to look at Seonghwa. "He was whining about that?" you asked in amusement.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," he answered with a chuckle.

A drunk Wooyoung laughed loudly. "That's not all! Hyung was also complaining about how Hongjoong junior was aching for—" Hongjoong smacked his palm over Wooyoung's mouth, stopping him from exposing him.

"Hey, let him complete," you stated, amused by the whole situation. Hongjoong shook his head in disagreement.

"We have to leave," Hongjoong changed the topic. "Yunho, go get Mingi and Yeoreum. Seonghwa, call San and Yeosang."

"Yeosang's getting some upstairs after so long," Yunho revealed. "He'll be shit pissed if you guys interrupt him."

Wooyoung chuckled. "After so long? He got pussy last week! And he's with the same blonde chick upstairs."

"No wonder he was the most excited to come here," Jongho mumbled.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "Well, I want to leave now. Anyone else wants to come?"

"Hyung, you and Aeji can go," Yunho said to Seonghwa. "Aeji's really tired. I'll come with the rest."

Seonghwa nodded and the four of you leave first, walking to one of three cars. Seonghwa had to drive after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors to Hongjoong.

After he began driving, you wanted to ask who this Yang Daeyoung guy was, but you thought now didn't seem like an appropriate time; you didn't want to interrupt the peaceful silence in the car.

You were feeling quite drained out, so you rested your head on Hongjoong's shoulder, trying your best to not fall asleep.

“Sleep, Kiah,” he mumbled, bringing your body closer to his. “I’ll wake you up when we reach,” he said, although he had no plans of doing that.

“Okay…” you closed your eyes, sleep taking over your body within a few minutes.

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your head. “I love you…”

5 months later.

As soon as Hongjoong came back home from his mission and stepped into your bedroom, you ran into his arms. “I missed you so much!” you mumbled against your boyfriend’s chest while he embraced you.

You started dating Hongjoong around three months ago when he finally got the courage to confess that he fell in love with you. To his relief, you were just as head over heels in love with him. The boys sometimes refer to you as ‘the one who tamed his temper’ as Hongjoong didn’t get annoyed very often anymore. You had also grown used to the mafia life, and you often found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You knew almost everything about the boys and the world you were now a part of. They even let you go on missions, sometimes letting you go solo. Hongjoong was always a little hesitant as he was scared something would happen to you, but he was getting used to it.

“I was only gone for a week, love,” Hongjoong chuckled and you sighed.

“It felt like years.” You pulled away from his chest to look at him. You pecked his lips before moving to sit on your bed, your boyfriend mirroring your actions.

“I got you a lot of chocolates,” he said, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. “I’ve kept them in the fridge.”

You smiled, lying down while you played with Hongjoong’s hand. “It’ll get over in two days,” you stated, knowing the boys would finish it before you could even grab a piece.

“Then I’ll go back and get you more.”

“I’d rather you stay here with me,” you mumbled, arms reaching out to hug your boyfriend. Hongjoong settled in your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand moved to his hair, playing with his strands. Hongjoong couldn’t help but place a kiss on your sensitive neck, causing a chill to run down your spine. He began placing more kisses on your neck, smirking when he felt you grab a fistful of his hair. He trailed kisses from your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to hover above you. Cupping your cheek, Hongjoong gazed at you with nothing but love and adoration, making your heart race.

You grinned at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You pulled him into a kiss which he eagerly responded to. Lips moving with yours, Hongjoong took your bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on it before licking your lip as a way of asking for permission. You parted your lips wider, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced in a slow rhythm while Hongjoong rolled his hips against yours, making you moan. You gently pushed him away, making him look at you with a worried gaze, thinking he went too far. But you pushed him further, making him lie down on his back before you straddled his hips. Your hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Hongjoong’s eyes moved to your bra clad chest. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. You took his hands, placing them on your chest in response. Hongjoong gently squeezed your boobs, thumbs running over your hardened nipples. He sat up a little so that his face could reach your chest. He placed kisses on your sternum before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it, licking the small bud. He mirrored his actions for your other nipple, and your back arched in pleasure. When he pulled away, you immediately crashed your lips onto his in a hungry kiss. You involuntarily grinded down on his hard-on, a groan leaving his throat. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster on his bulge.

“I want you, Joong,” you moaned out, making him get harder.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked.

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. Please,” you begged. You weren’t a virgin, but this was going to be your first time with Hongjoong.

He only smiled, halting your movements on his bulge. “Let me prep you, baby. Sit on my face.” You got off his lap to take your jeans off along with your panties. Hongjoong also stripped out his clothes, leaving himself bare in front of you for the first time. You involuntarily bit your lip, taking in the sight of his thick, hard cock. He looked absolutely irresistible.

Hongjoong climbed back onto the bed, lying down while he waited for you to straddle his face.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, a little hesitant to put your weight on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckled. “Sit comfortably.”

You lowered yourself onto his face, making sure you didn’t put all of your weight on him. Hongjoong's hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wasted no time in lapping at your slit, collecting your wetness on his tongue. He moaned at your sweet taste, tongue dipping into your hole, his nose pressing onto your clit. He moved his mouth to latch onto your clit, giving your nub a few sucks before moving back to your hole. “Fuck!” you moaned, hands reaching down to grasp his hair while he fucked you with his tongue. You felt the familiar knot forming and you warned Hongjoong that you were close. He licked up and down your slit, lapping at your clit, pushing you to your high. You moaned out his name while you came on his face and he wasted no time in licking up your juices, a drop rolling down from his lips. When you moved your pussy away from his face, you got wetter at the sight of his lips glistening with your juices.

You moved down his body to return the favor, but he stopped you. “I’ll let you do that another time, babe. But now I really need to be inside of you.” Hongjoong sat up, piling pillows behind him before leaning back on it. “Are you on the pill?” he asked while pumping his cock.

“No…”

He groaned. “I don’t have condoms on me right now. They’re in my room.”

“It’s okay, you can just pull out,” you stated.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Mhmm.” You moved to straddle his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance. You sank down on his length, the stretch making you whimper. Once Hongjoong was fully inside of you, you placed your hands on his abs, slowly moving yourself up and down on his cock, coating it with your arousal. Hongjoong bucked his hips up to meet yours half-way. You leaned down to kiss him while you rolled your hips against his. You pulled away and smiled at him before you increased the pace. Your hands reached back to grab his thighs while you rode him. Hongjoong watched your boobs bounce along with you, the sight making him groan. When Hongjoong felt himself getting close, he switched positions, slipping out of you, making you whine. He only giggled, leaning down to peck your lips before he gripped your waist. Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you, making you gasp, your walls clenching violently around him while he fucked you hard and raw.

You gripped the bedsheets beneath you, feeling the knot forming in your lower area. “J-Joong… I—”

“I know, baby, I’m close too,” he groaned out, his thrusts getting sloppy. “You’re taking me so well, fuck.”

Hongjoong moved one hand down to your clit, his fingers rubbing your nub in circular motions. You screamed his name when your second orgasm washed over you. Hongjoong pulled out immediately, spilling onto your stomach. You reached out to pump his cock, milking him dry. Hongjoong collapsed beside you, body coated in a thin layer of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He pulled you into a sweet kiss a few seconds later.

“That was amazing,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s clean up, hmm? Shower with me?” You nodded, letting him carry you to the bathroom.

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grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks · 3 years ago

Text

The penultimate chapter of my Fake Dating AU is up now! Read it below, or check out the whole story on AO3!

Content Warnings for this chapter:

- Internalized Ableism

- Referenced/Implied Child Abuse

Martin made himself a promise, as he and Jon arrived at the wedding. He was going to enjoy this last day as Jon’s fake boyfriend, and not spend the whole time mourning the fact that their fake relationship was coming to an end.

But that, of course, was easier said than done.

They entered the gardens where the ceremony would be held arm in arm, but Jon soon disentangled their hands and pressed a parting kiss to his cheek.

“I think I’m going to check out the bar,” he said, “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to a wedding, but I seem to remember they’re a lot more pleasant with a drink in hand.”

“Just be glad it’s not a Catholic ceremony,” Martin said, grimacing at his childhood memories, “They’re about 10 times longer, and they usually don’t have an open bar.”

“Well, when I meet the happy couple, I’ll make sure to thank them for that.” Jon lingered for another moment, eyes roving over Martin’s face as though he was debating whether to kiss him again, before he left.

“Get me a G&T while you’re there!” Martin called after him, and Jon waved back in acknowledgement.

Martin watched him go, taking in the way the silver streaks in his hair gleamed in the warm afternoon sun. He’d tied his hair back into an elaborate knot for the occasion, but left a few stray curls loose to frame his face. It looked nice, as did his outfit: a simple black suit with a light grey vest - nothing especially fancy, but it fit him well. Martin was going to have a hard time not staring at him the whole night.

Reluctantly, Martin turned away to look at the rest of the crowd gathered. It was still half an hour before the ceremony was due to begin, so there weren’t too many people. Martin recognized a few of his aunts and uncles, and a cousin or two. His mother, he noted, hadn’t shown up yet. Martin had offered to drive her, but she insisted on getting a ride from his cousin instead. He told himself it was nothing personal - James just lived closer to Devon, that’s all - but it still stung.

He felt a tap at his elbow, and turned to see Jon offering him a gin and tonic.

“Remind me how you’re related to the bride?” he murmured as he took a sip of his own drink.

“Rachel’s my cousin on my mother’s side. Her mum is my Aunt Aniela.”

“Right, right, your mother’s younger sister.”

“Correct,” Martin said. As part of Jon’s preparation, he’d studied Martin’s family extensively. He really didn’t have to; Martin wasn’t particularly close with any of his family - if he made it through the whole wedding without forgetting any of his cousin’s names, he’d consider it a success - but Jon had wanted to be thorough.

“She used to work at an art museum, and would always buy you postcards of your favourite paintings.”

“Correct.”

“She and Rachel’s father divorced after she had an affair with that violinist.”

Martin choked on his drink. He didn’t remember telling Jon that. “Correct, but I wouldn’t bring that up today.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Jon’s tone was defensive, but he was smiling. “Is he going to be here today?” he asked.

“Rachel’s dad, or the violinist?”

“Well, either, I suppose.”

“Rachel’s dad will be, the violinist won’t.”

“Makes sense,” Jon muttered, looking out over the crowd, and Martin noticed a strand of hair had come loose from his bun. He turned Jon back to face him with a gentle touch to his jaw, and then tucked the hair behind his ear.

“Y-Your hair,” he explained needlessly. Jon swallowed and gave a nod. Then he glanced at Martin and set down his drink, saying,

“Here, actually, let me fix your collar.”

Martin held his breath as Jon adjusted his collar and then his tie with deft, steady hands.

“There we go,” Jon whispered, smoothing out Martin’s lapels and letting his hands linger on his chest for longer than was probably necessary. “Have I told you yet how good you look today?” That was something a boyfriend would say, naturally, and not necessarily something Jon actually thought, but there was a sincerity in his voice that caught Martin off guard.

“Thanks,” he said eventually, “You don’t look so bad yourself.” And that felt so wholly inadequate for describing how Jon looked today that he had to add, “I mean, God, you look-”

“Thank you,” Jon said quickly, and turned away. Martin cleared his throat.

“A-Anyway,” he said, “That’s Aniela there in the blue dress, talking to my Aunt Irena.”

“Irena…” Jon repeated, searching his memory. “She’s the one who owned the yorkshire terrier that bit you when you were nine?”

God, why had he told Jon so much? “Yeah.”

“Should we go say hello?”

Martin agreed that they probably should, and they walked over to where Martin’s aunts stood chatting by the aisle. Although (or perhaps because) Martin hadn’t seen them in years, they each pulled him into a tight hug when they saw him.

“Martin, dear!” Irena cooed, “It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“Good,” Martin replied, though his chest was still constricted by Irena’s surprisingly strong arms. As soon as she let him go, he gestured to Jon. “This is my boyfriend, Jon. Jon, this is my Aunt Irena and my Aunt Aniela.”

“Lovely to meet you both,” Jon said, extending his hand, but Irena ignored it in favour of giving him a hug. Martin heard Jon let out a soft oof as all the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

“Let the boy breathe, Irenka,” Aniela chastised, swatting Irena’s arm. Once Jon was released from the hug, she held out her hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Jon.”

Jon reiterated that it was nice to meet her, and offered his congratulations.

“Have you been taking good care of our Martin?” she asked.

“I, uh, I-I supposed that’s a question for Martin,” Jon said, and turned to Martin with a hesitant look on his face, as though actually anxious to hear the answer.

“He has,” Martin said. Jon gave him a small, private smile, and Martin smiled back, and he would have given anything, in that moment, for this to be real. Sometimes, when Jon looked at him like that (and held his hand when he really didn’t need to, and whispered I love you in the backs of cabs) he thought that maybe - but he couldn’t let himself think like that. It would only make things worse.

“Aw!” Irena said, startling the two of them out of their private moment, “What a cute couple!”

“Should we expect to be invited to your wedding soon?” Aniela asked.

Martin sputtered. “We’ve only been dating for less than a year!”

“Arthur and I had only been seeing each other for six months when we got engaged,” she shrugged, “Though I guess that’s not exactly a success story.”

“I thought you were disillusioned with marriage, anyway” Irena pointed out, “Shouldn’t you be with Rachel right now, talking her out of this?”

“Of course not! This venue cost a fortune, it’s far too late to change her mind now!” Aniela said. “Anyway, marriage is fine - wonderful, even! - if you find the right person, and Rachel’s found the right person.” She glanced at Jon, eyes sparkling. “And it looks like Martin has, too.”

The words hurt more than they should have. Jon turned to give him another smile, but Martin thought he could see a flicker of discomfort in his eyes.

“You only met him two minutes ago,” he told Aniela, trying to keep his tone light.

“I have a sense for these things,” she insisted, “And I can just tell you two are a good fit.”

Martin cleared his throat, took a sip of his drink, and silently prayed that the conversation would move on to other things. Thankfully, it did. They ended up talking about the weather for quite awhile, and it wasn’t until the second or third time that they all agreed how lucky they were to get such nice weather, and what a risk the couple had taken having an outdoor wedding in early May, that Irena spotted something over his shoulder and said,

“Oh, Martin, your mother’s just arrived.” Her tone was mild, matter-of-fact, but Martin tensed at the news. He followed her gaze to see that his mother had indeed arrived. He could see from a glance that she was worn out from the long drive, and he knew that however hard he tried to get her to rest and stay out of the sun and drink plenty of water, she was going to be tired and irritable the entire night. That still wouldn’t stop him from trying, though.

Jon turned to him, looking nearly as anxious as Martin felt. “I suppose we s-should go say hello.”

Martin could only nod. He slipped his hand into Jon’s as they walked over, and Jon gripped it like a lifeline.

“Hi, Mum!”

In all of the preparation for lying to his mother, all of the worst-case scenarios he’d stayed up worrying about, he somehow had never considered the simple awkwardness of Jon interacting with his mother - or, more to the point, Jon seeing him interact with his mother.

It was embarrassing. There were other words he could use, but none of them were particularly charitable to his mother, and that wasn’t fair, she was ill, so he stuck with ‘embarrassing.’ He pretended embarrassment was the only thing he felt as he leaned down to kiss her cheek and she grimaced the same way she might if an enormous, slobbery dog had started licking her face.

“Yes, yes, that’s enough of that,” she said, brushing him off. Then she waved a hand at Jon. “Is this the man you’ve been hiding from me?”

“I haven’t been hiding-”

She turned to Jon and said, “He never mentioned you, not once in - how long have you been together?”

“Five months,” Martin filled in miserably.

“Five months.” She swung around at Martin, “And don’t try to tell me it wasn’t serious - your cousin paid good money for this venue and this catering, so if he’s here, it had better be serious.”

“It just never came up,” he said, and that was only barely a lie. Even if he’d had a boyfriend, he wouldn’t have had a lot of opportunities to mention him for how rarely she accepted his calls.

Jon took all this in stride. “It’s good to meet you,” he said, extending his hand, “You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

“Well,” she said, slightly mollified by the compliment even if she didn’t agree with Jon’s assessment, “It wasn’t easy.”

“Should we get our seats?” Jon asked, glancing at the time on his phone, “I think the ceremony’s due to start soon.”

Martin took his mother’s arm and tried to help her to her seat (she hadn’t taken her walker or even her cane today, and she was more than a little unsteady on her feet), but she swatted him away.

“I’m not an invalid!” she muttered. “I can walk!”

They found seats near the back, and Martin took a seat between Jon and his mother. It was a surprisingly hot afternoon, especially sitting in the sun, so Martin was relieved that they didn’t have to wait for long. Soon enough, the music started, the crowd hushed, and they all watched as the bridal party made their way down the aisle.

The ceremony itself was mercifully short. Jon grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze as the officiant talked about love and commitment and the sorts of things people always talk about at weddings. As the officiant described the incomparable joy of finding someone who is both your best friend and your true love, Jon smiled at him, and it was all a lie, and that fact hurt Martin more than it ever had before. He consoled himself that people always cry at weddings, so no one would notice if he did now, but no tears came. In time it faded to a dull and distant ache, as Martin played his part and smiled back.

At the cocktail hour between the wedding and the reception, Jon and Martin made the rounds, catching up with family members Martin hadn’t seen in half a decade. He did end up getting one of his cousins’ names wrong, but his guilt was tempered somewhat when a different cousin called him “Marcus” by mistake. The conversations were largely insubstantial, as despite being family they barely knew each other, but all the relatives he spoke to invariably loved Jon.

Martin tried to keep that dull ache at bay as the congratulations for finding such a great partner came to feel more and more like disbelief that he could ever date someone so hopelessly out of his league. He knew that if their lie were true, he’d be preening, and bragging, and showing off his wonderful boyfriend, but as it was, he didn’t want to call attention to it. Because of course, they were right. Jon would never actually want to date him, no matter how much his smiles and glances and near-constant hand-holding sometimes seemed to suggest otherwise.

The phrase I have high standards flashed into his mind, unbidden, and Martin reminded himself of how many layers of falsehood were required to make this “relationship” work.

At dinner, Martin was seated at a table with Jon, his mother, and three cousins that he had last seen at their great grandmother’s funeral. Conversation was, predictably, sparse for much of the meal, but things picked up eventually. When the youngest of his cousins started telling a story about chasing down a runaway kitten during her first week as a veterinary assistant, Martin chimed in with,

“That actually reminds me of my first day in the Archives!”

His mother dropped her fork in distaste. “Your cousins are trying to eat,” she said sharply. “I’m sure no one wants to hear any stories about that ghastly Institute of yours.”

There was a long silence, during which Martin’s cousins looked down at their food to avoid looking at Martin, before Jon spoke up. “I’d like to hear that story, actually.”

“You were there!” Martin said.

“Yes, but I’ve never heard it from your perspective!”

Martin began, haltingly, to tell the story of letting a dog into the Archives on his first day. Jon listened attentively, as though he hadn't lived it, and flashed Martin an encouraging little smile. He gained a bit of confidence as he spoke, and eventually his cousins grew invested in the story as well.

“What did you do?” one of them asked Jon, who flushed and started stammering.

“Well, erm. Well the thing is-”

“Yes?” Martin asked, voice teasing.

“In fairness to myself, it was my first day, and none of the management seminars I watched prepared me for that!”

“So what did you do?” the cousin repeated.

“Well…” Jon started, but showed no sign of spitting it out, so Martin finished for him.

“He threatened to fire me.”

“I didn’t exactly threaten,” Jon protested weakly. “I implied…”

“Not very subtly.”

Jon hid his face in his hands for just a second before collecting himself and saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m - I’m glad I didn’t fire you.”

“Hard to imagine I would have asked you on a date if you had.”

“And where would I be then?” Jon asked, and for a moment Martin could almost swear he saw a flicker of melancholy cross his face.

***

After dinner, there were toasts, during which Jon once again held Martin’s hand and smiled at him as though love were a secret that he and Martin and the bride and groom were all in on.

After the toasts was the cutting of the cake, and the bouquet toss, and what felt like a hundred more wedding traditions that Martin had barely remembered the existence of. Through it all, the wedding photographer moved through the crowd, discreetly asking guests to pose, or to smile, or to not look at the camera. When he came to their table, he got Martin to put his arm around Jon’s shoulders and smile.

“Say cheese!”

There was a click from the camera, and the photographer glanced at the monitor to see how the photo turned out.

“Adorable,” he said, giving Jon and Martin a thumbs up. “Oh, that’s just perfect.”

Martin checked in on his mother periodically throughout the night, though she brushed him off each time.

“I’m fine,” she said when Martin asked if she needed to sit down.

“Are you sure? It’s been a long day-”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied firmly. “Where’s that so-called boyfriend of yours? Why don’t you go fuss over him?”

Jon was standing by the edge of the dance floor, looking awkward, and reluctantly, Martin took his mother’s advice and went to see him. He smiled when he saw Martin walking towards him, but dropped the smile quickly when he saw his expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Martin lied, but Jon didn’t believe him for a second.

“Was it your mother? She seems…” Jon, very tactfully, didn’t finish the sentence but Martin could guess what was left unsaid and felt compelled to argue with it.

“She’s not well.”

Jon pondered that for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and serious. “That doesn’t excuse the way she treats you.”

“I mean, it does, though, doesn’t it?” Martin insisted. “She’s had a really hard life, and I wasn’t exactly the perfect son.”

“I don’t think perfection should really be the standard you’re held to.” Jon was agitated, but he seemed to gather himself as he said, “You’re a good person, Martin, and I find it hard to believe you aren’t a good son. You deserve better.”

Martin didn’t have anything to say to that, and the silence stretched for a long, tense second before Jon cleared his throat and said, “W-Well. Should we- should we dance?”

Martin sighed. “Nah, I’m a terrible dancer.”

“It’s a wedding, Martin. Being a good dancer isn’t really the point.”

“Still, I hate dancing in front of crowds like this,” Martin admitted, “Always feel a bit stupid.”

“What about a slow dance? Those are easy, all you have to do is sway and look besotted with whoever you’re dancing with.”

And, well, that didn’t sound particularly difficult. “I do have plenty of practice at that.”

“So you’ll dance with me?” Jon asked, and he seemed so genuinely hopeful that Martin couldn’t possibly say no.

“I will.”

“Good,” Jon smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Aside from dancing, the main activity of the reception seemed to be talking to other guests, and as Martin didn’t know many people there, he spent most of the time sitting at the table with Jon as they tried to keep each other entertained. A few weeks ago, that task would have seemed far more intimidating than dancing, but by now it was easy, it was effortless. To make Jon laugh felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Eventually, they found themselves playing a game, wherein Martin would point out a relative and Jon would try to guess who they were.

“That has to be Rachel’s brother Mike.”

“Okay, okay that was an easy one!” Martin said. “What about her, in the red dress?”

Jon studied the woman in question as she danced enthusiastically to Mr. Brightside. “I’m going to say that’s Irena’s daughter Emily.”

“Nope! Guess again.”

“Hmm… Both of Rachel’s sisters were in the bridal party, so it can’t be either of them, I already met your Uncle Antoni’s stepdaughter Diana, she’s too old to be your cousin Quinn… I give up.”

“That’s my second cousin Lindsay - her grandmother is my Great Aunt Magda.”

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know there'd be second cousins here!”

“I definitely mentioned her, though.”

“I’ll have to check my notes,” Jon muttered. Then a thought struck him. “Wait, is she the one whose family lived on a farm, who taught you how to feed the horses?”

“Uh huh.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about Horse Girl Lindsay!”

That wasn’t very funny - it wasn’t even a joke - but something about the phrasing made Martin choke on his drink in laughter. Jon seemed quite proud of himself, though his pride quickly turned to concern as Martin gasped for breath.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Martin wheezed. Jon took a sip of his own drink to hide his grin.

Martin set down his drink and inspected his now-wet shirt. Jon grabbed a napkin.

“Here, let me,” he said, and suddenly his face was very close to Martin’s, frowning in concentration as he dabbed at the stain on Martin’s suit. He glanced up from his work just long enough to shoot Martin a quick smile. One last swipe with the napkin, and then he leaned up to plant a kiss on Martin’s cheek. “That’s better,” he whispered.

“I-I think I’m going to get another drink,” Martin said, though he wasn’t particularly thirsty. He just needed a bit of space from Jon all of a sudden - a chance to clear his head.

Unfortunately, Jon didn’t seem to pick up on this, as he glanced at his own glass and said, “I could actually use one as well.”

Jon was hovering by his elbow as he went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic and a glass of white wine. “And a glass of water,” he added on a whim. His mother never drank enough water at these sorts of events, and it was such a hot day.

He walked to the table in the corner where his mother was sitting, and Jon came with him.

“I brought you some water,” Martin explained, setting the glass on the table, “It’s easy to get dehydrated on a warm day like this, and I thought-”

“You thought I was too stupid to think of it myself.” It was clear from her voice that she was tired, and irritable, and quite possibly coming down with a migraine, and this was precisely why he’d wanted her to drink more water.

“No, I just-��

“You thought I couldn’t walk the two steps to get it myself?”

Martin opened his mouth to protest further, but Jon beat him to it. “He’s just trying to help!”

“I didn’t ask for his help,” Martin’s mother snapped, fixing Jon with a withering glare. “And I don’t appreciate being ordered around like a child.”

“There’s a lot you don’t appreciate, it seems,” Jon muttered, and her eyes narrowed in a way that filled Martin with a deep, instinctual terror.

“What did you say?” she asked, voice quiet and level in what Martin recognized as the calm before the storm.

“Leave it, Jon,” he said. Jon looked at him and softened. He seemed ready to let the subject drop when Martin’s mother said,

“No, I want to hear what he was going to say!”

“I was going to say,” Jon said, struggling to keep his voice from rising, “that Martin clearly cares for you very much, and he’s done nothing but try to look after you all night, and if you can’t bring yourself to feel any sort of appreciation for that, the least you could do is not berate him!”

“How dare you!” she hissed, eyes so wide Martin worried she was going to have a fit. “Who are you to tell me how to treat my son?”

“Why don’t we get some air?” Martin asked weakly, and he pulled Jon away from the conversation and out into the gardens. As soon as they were out, away from the heat and noise of the reception, Jon deflated.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” he said. “The entire reason I came was to impress your mother, and I-”

“You’re fine, Jon.”

“I’m a hypocrite, is what I am.” Jon sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, threatening to pull it out of its bun. “I don’t have room to criticise anyone else for not appreciating all the things you do for them.” He swallowed. “But, well, I have come to appreciate them. Too little, and too late, I know. A-And I know that you deserve so much more than my admiration, but I hope you know you have it. I… I think the world of you, Martin.”

Martin reeled, processing what Jon had said. There was no one around, this wasn’t a performance for anyone else’s benefit. This was just Jon, being honest. And of course Martin had gotten the impression that Jon didn’t hate him anymore, but to hear him say this… It took him a moment to find his voice.

“I… think the world of you, too, Jon.”

Jon turned away, doubt and guilt flickering across his face. “I’d understand if you didn’t.”

“But I do.”

“R-Right.” Jon coughed awkwardly. “S-Should we head back in? I believe you still owe me a dance.”

When they slipped back into the reception hall, the DJ was blaring a very high energy pop song that had most of the guests out of their seats and dancing tipsily. Martin could see Jon’s point about not needing to dance well at weddings - a quick glance at the crowd showed that Martin was unlikely to be the worst dancer there - but he still wasn’t eager to join them.

“Not exactly a slow dance,” Jon pointed out.

“Not quite.”

They grabbed seats by the edge of the dance floor and watched the group in silence for a bit. Martin might have been projecting, but he thought there was a tension between them, neither one quite sure how to move on from the conversation they’d had outside.

“That man at the head of the conga line,” Jon said eventually, pointing to one of Martin’s relatives. “I’m going to guess that’s… Antoni’s oldest son, Charles.”

“You cheated!”

“I did not!”

“You talked to him, you must have, or else you overheard something-”

“I just happen to be very intuitive!” Jon insisted, and Martin snorted, and whatever had hung between them in the garden dissipated like smoke.

***

They did dance, eventually. Near the end of the night, a slow song Martin didn’t recognize came on, and Jon’s eyes lit up as he said, “Oh, I love this song!” and Martin allowed himself to be led by the hand toward the dance floor. They were stiff, at first, and awkward, but as the song went on they grew more relaxed, and slowly melted into each other until Jon was resting his head on Martin’s chest as they gently swayed in place.

“Thank you for coming with me today,” Martin whispered into the top of Jon’s head, his words muffled by his silver-streaked curls.

Jon pulled away just enough to look Martin in the eye as he whispered, “Of course.” He held Martin’s gaze, eyes solemn and sincere, and carefully adjusted his grip on Martin’s hands so that he could tap - once, twice - on the back of one of them.

Martin froze. Jon hadn’t tapped his hand since their conversation at the bed and breakfast (except that once, when he was drunk and had asked Martin’s permission to hug him). I’d rather know exactly what I’m agreeing to, Martin had said, and, well, he knew now. He also knew that he didn’t have to agree, that Jon wouldn’t hold it against him, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he let this opportunity pass him by. He tapped, once, into Jon’s palm, and held his breath.

Jon cupped a hand on Martin’s cheek, pulling his face ever so slightly closer as he rocked forward onto his tiptoes. He leaned forward slowly, oh so slowly, as though waiting for Martin to pull away. Martin didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward as well, and their lips met.

The kiss was long, and slow, and tender, and it felt like saying goodbye. Martin tightened his grip on Jon’s back, afraid he’d pull away too soon, but Jon seemed to be in no hurry. When they finally broke apart, he kept his hand on Martin’s face, holding him close. His thumb brushed across the ridge of Martin’s cheek, as he looked up at him with wide, unreadable eyes.

“Martin, I-” he started, voice thick with emotion, but he cut himself off. He cleared his throat, dropped his hand from Martin’s cheek, and grabbed Martin’s hands to resume the dance. He never said what he was going to say, and Martin never worked up the courage to ask.

***

At the end of the night, Jon walked him home. It really wasn’t much of a walk from the sidewalk where the cab had dropped them off to the Archives, but the worms had been growing in number, so much so that he and Jon had to spend several minutes stomping the ones wriggling on the steps before they went inside, and Martin really couldn’t complain about having company.

“Here you are,” Jon said as they entered the Archives. “Home sweet…” he trailed off, the reality of Martin’s living situation apparently too grim even to joke about.

“Thanks for coming tonight. And for… everything else. I mean, you did so much-”

“Don’t thank me,” Jon said, “I had fun. You’re, uh. You’re good company.”

“You’re good company, too,” Martin said. Jon made a little noise of disbelief and opened his mouth as though to argue, and Martin pressed. “You are! You’re- You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

It was a joke, of course, but when Jon looked at him, his eyes were wide and soft and painfully earnest. “You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had,” he said softly, and the sentiment felt, somehow, meaningful.

Jon took a step towards Martin, staring at him the same way he had in the garden, and for a moment time stood still. Then Jon stopped himself, patted Martin stiffly on the arm, and said, “Goodnight, Martin. I’ll- I’ll see you on Monday.” And then he was gone.

(View this chapter on AO3)

#tma fanfic #tma fic #jonmartin #jonmartin fic #long post

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

bao | myg | 1

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is always late to start work. He’s late in starting a lot of things. Like telling you he loves you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental injury/surgery; it’s actually SO MUCH fluff; non-idol!AU; (slightly) jealous deliveryboy!Yoongi x hardworking chef!reader ft. bao fiend, next-door neighbor, model!Taehyung; Yoongi gets injured T_T

it’s Weverse magazine Yoongi; can’t be helped he looked too good and yes it’s another fic revolving around food like mango | jjk (less dark this time lmao), guess that’s my schtick now

Men in leather jackets?

Yes.

Men who liked to wear silver rings?

Double yes.

Men whose name was Min Yoongi?

Fuck, no.

But, unfortunately, Min Yoongi was both of the first two things, when annoyed you to no end. You could hate Min Yoongi, easy, if he wasn’t attractive, but the truth was that he was very attractive, with his dark hair, cat-like eyes that were the color of black coffee, large pale hands, silver earrings, silver bracelets, and raspy deep voice.

The infuriating thing was, he was always late.

“Sorry,” he apologized for the billionth time. “I had to do something.”

You always have to do something, you thought, pursing your lips as you pushed the paper bags towards him. Each one was stapled with a small piece of paper, indicating the address and complete order of the patron.

“I’m going to fire you if you’re late again,” you warned.

Yoongi grinned as he gathered the bags. He had pretty white teeth too. Fuck. You even liked seeing his stupid teeth. The fuck was wrong with you?

“Nah, you won’t fire me. I’m your favorite delivery boy.”

“You’re my only delivery boy,” you shot back as he retreated.

“Thus, being your favorite,” he chuckled, out the back door once again.

You sighed deeply as you watched the black leather depart. He was wearing black jeans today that showed off his long legs, with a tear in the right knee. Why did he have to look so good? And why was he always late? It was very annoying. You checked your phone, texting your father, asking how he was today.

You spent all day taking orders and prepping them for Yoongi to deliver. In between, you continued making buns of all kinds, from savory pork buns to sweet red bean buns. You father owned a small Chinese-style bao shop, but since his back surgery, he hadn’t been able to work for a while. Your mother was taking care of him and complaining quite a bit about having another baby, except this one was bigger and more demanding and sounded way too much like your father.

You just laughed through the phone as your dad asked for more water and a foot massage.

Being their only daughter, you naturally had some experience making bao, but actually running the business was much harder. You weren’t sure how your dad did it all these years to be honest. There used to be a counter where people could drop by and pick up a bun for their lunch break, but the person who worked at that counter used to be your mother or you, and that wasn’t happening if you were making them all day. You weren’t as fast making them as your father either.

Therefore, the small shop ended up being converted to delivery only, and your only delivery boy was late to arrive all the damn time.

Okay, he wasn’t a delivery boy per se, because he was definitely an adult man, but he might as well have been a boy with how often you scolded him about being late. At least he was good at delivering the actual orders on time.

You heard a knock at the back door and scooped up two steaming roast pork buns, brushing the excess flour off your hands before opening the door.

A bright, jovial, boxy smile greeted you.

“Hey!”

Your only exception to delivery only. Kim Taehyung, your next-door neighbor.

You handed him the pork buns and he handed you some bills.

“Keep the change,” he grinned, biting into the bun and gasping a little at the heat. “Mmm, delicious as always.”

You chuckled. “You need to learn how to cook for yourself.”

He pouted, chewing noisily. “Ugh, it’s so hard. Teach me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I tried. You burned it somehow. I don’t even know how that’s possible.”

He shrugged. “I’m better at watching anyway.”

You looked over his attire. A brown suit with a cream t-shirt, green silk scarf around his neck. His hair was dark brown again. “What are you advertising today?” Taehyung was a model. Sometimes you saw him on billboards or ads in the supermarket.

Taehyung shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to the agency right now.” He held up the buns. “But I gotta eat first because it’s gonna be long day.”

You chuckled. “Better go before your manager calls.”

As if on cue, a colorful tune erupted from Taehyung’s pants, chirping loudly. Taehyung shoved one of the buns entirely into his mouth and spoke around it, words muffled.

“Ugh, thanks again. Let’s hang out when I can!” he called as he ran off, snatching his phone from his pocket, mumbling into it as he chewed.

You smiled ruefully, watching him hurry away. “Yeah, like that will ever happen.”

Taehyung was far too busy to hang out with you. You were surprised he still lived in the same apartment complex you did, because he made decent money now, but he said it was because his dog Yeontan didn’t like change and his parents lived nearby so he could drop him off there when he was working.

“Your boyfriend or something?”

You suddenly noticed Yoongi standing next to the door. You jumped back, staring at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“How long have you been there?”

Yoongi shrugged. “As long as you’ve been making googly eyes at him.”

You frowned. “I’m not making googly eyes at Taehyung.”

Yoongi smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ah, he has a name. And no honorifics. Very suspicious, if you ask me.”

Nobody asked you! You wondered if he needed both arms to deliver food, because you were pretty close to breaking at least one of them. Surely, he could drive one-handed? You were a bit disturbed on how imagining that seemed somewhat attractive to you.

“He’s my next-door neighbor,” you huffed, turning on your heel and going back into the shop to pack more orders for Yoongi.

“Next door to you puss–”

You spun around and shoved a pork bun into Yoongi’s mouth. He nearly choked, grabbing it as you let go, his fingertips brushing against yours for a moment. A strange tingle travelled through your palm, going up your arm. You ignored it, purposefully slipping buns into paper packages for an order for a local office nearby.

“It’s your lunchtime anyway,” you said impassively, not looking at him.

If you did, you would have noticed the pink tinge on Yoongi’s cheeks, the furrow in his brows as he chewed on the bun, watching you. You would have noticed the way his jaw seemed to be tense, thinking about what he just saw, holding tightly to the pork bun.

Yoongi knew you were the one who made it. It tasted great, almost as good as your father’s. He knew your father well, having been the on-and-off delivery boy through the years, from high school to university to now. Being an underground music producer didn’t make him a ton of money, but he didn’t care too much. If he was more popular, he would have to quit.

And he really didn’t want to quit, because he was staring at your back, hoping one day you’d notice he was watching you.

He knew who Kim Taehyung was. Taehyung came every day. Maybe even for the same reason as him. He never interrupted your interactions with Taehyung before, because it seemed rude. They were always short anyway. But, of course, Taehyung noticed you were alone now, and Taehyung had been dressing nicer, looking cuter, flirting more and more. Yoongi doubted you noticed, but it still bothered him all the same.

Yoongi sighed inwardly as he picked up another bun. You shot him a glare but he shrugged.

“Might make me taller,” was his response.

You raised your eyebrows. “You want to be a fucking skyscraper or something?”

He bit into it. Fucking delicious. “Maybe.”

Truth was, he just didn’t want to stop eating them because you made them.

Yoongi wanted to pretend you made them just for him.

"What's this?"

"Pork and leek bao. Tell me what you think."

Yoongi took a small bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Light flavor, but nice."

"Too greasy?" you pried.

"Mm, little bit."

You sighed. "Hm, okay, won't sell them then. I'll have to eat them myself."

Yoongi looked at the huge tray of freshly streamed buns.

"I can help."

"Wait for them to cool and then you can pack however much you want," you said absentmindedly, off to wash the pots. "You have a steamer at home?"

"Mhm."

He looked good today too, still in his black leather jacket and black jeans, different loose gray shirt. Almost cute with the way he was chomping on the steamed bun, his cheeks filling and becoming round.

Too bad he couldn't be punctual to save his life, you thought, violently scrubbing the metal clean.

Yoongi sat in his studio, holding one of the pork and leek bao you had given him. He stored them in his freezer and streamed them periodically when he was at his desk. Easy, quick meal that had very little mess.

He chewed on it.

He should have told you to sell them.

But he also liked having his freezer full of bao that you had made. You probably would have given him some of he asked, but Yoongi felt bad asking because he knew how hard you worked. They should be for customers, not him.

He sat back in his chair, taking bites slowly, savoring them. Salty pork with the mild flavor of fresh leek, a little black bean to add a hint of nuttiness, grounding the greasy nature of the meat. Made by your own two hands, your hard work, day in and day out, trying to make up for the absence of your father.

He really should stop being late.

Then again.

Yoongi was always late because he was always working on music and when he wasn't working on music, he was oversleeping his work alarms.

It wasn't until you had gone to university that he realized how much he missed you and your presence at the bao shop. You were smart. Had a Biochemistry degree and everything. Yoongi couldn't make heads or tails of science, so that alone was impressive to him. But you hadn't been able to get a job in your field because your father’s back pain got worse and worse, until he had to get surgery. Now it meant you did everything and, while it pained him to watch you working so hard, secretly he was a little glad that he could see you every day.

He felt ashamed for thinking that way, because your father had surgery for a misaligned disc and Yoongi didn't wish that on anyone.

His eyes shifted to his computer.

He hasn't dropped his mixtape for a lot of reasons. One, what if no one liked it? All of his hard work, ignored? Or, what if everyone liked it? What if he made it big?

Could he handle that?

He didn't know. He wasn't very good with people.

Who was he? A nobody. Yoongi doubted your parents would be happy if the fucking delivery boy wanted to marry you. They were nice people, but of course they wanted better for you. That's why they worked so hard to put you through school to the point of your father's back literally breaking.

Maybe it would be better if you dated Taehyung. It seemed like he made a reasonable amount of money considering his clothes. He was handsome too. Yoongi saw Taehyung's face at the local supermarket sometimes. His own face would never be in supermarkets. No one would pick up a coffee with his face on it over Taehyung's.

Yoongi ate the last bite of bao bitterly and returned to his music.

"You're even later than usual today!"

"I'm sorry. I'll grab the orders right away."

"And why are you wearing this stupid hat? It's unprofessional–"

You attempted to grab the black baseball cap off of Yoongi's head, but he dodged you. He seemed more aloof than usual today, but you barely noticed in your irritation as you clicked your tongue and grabbed his leather jacket, yanking him towards you and pulling the cap off.

Three things happened at once.

Yoongi's body collided into yours.

He painfully gasped into your neck, turning your skin burning hot with his breath.

And third, your eyes widened as you realized Yoongi had a black eye.

You barely even noticed the first two things because you were staring at the fair skin around his right eye tinged with rings of purple-red. You released him and he backed up away from you, wincing.

"What happened?" you asked in a stunned voice.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and tried to grab his hat, but you moved it behind your back, eyes glued to his bruise.

"Yoongi, tell me what happened."

You saw him pause. If you weren't so fixated on the actual black eye, you would have noticed his expression change from annoyance, to bitterness, to realization. Your tone was not angry. You were genuinely worried, to the point you felt strangely emotional, like you were going to cry.

"It's nothing," Yoongi mumbled. "I'm fine. It only looks bad."

Your eyes locked with his. Those dark orbs did not want to say anything. They wanted you to treat it like no big deal, or yell at him some more for being late, anything but address his black eye.

"Please tell me what happened," you said quietly.

Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his head. Usually his black hair was styled, but it was messy and flat from being under the cap.

"I did something stupid," he finally replied. "I trusted people. And I got scammed."

You waited. Yoongi shuffled his feet and continued.

"I produce and make music. I mixed a guy's entire album and when I asked for payment, they told me I was getting paid with exposure," he spat, as if the word itself was disgusting. "I was already in a shitty mood. So I punched him."

"You did what?"

"I punched him," Yoongi repeated coolly. He shrugged. "There were three other guys so I punched them too."

"Y... Yoongi!"

"What?" he snapped. "They fucking deserved it."

"You can't go around punching people!"

"Yeah." He pointed to his black eye. "Sometimes they punch back."

You stared at him before you held out his cap. He took it from you and crammed it back on his head.

"Yoongi, go home."

He paused. Then he chuckled, straightening. "What are you taking about?" He changed his tone, making to more lighthearted and teasing. He gestured behind you, to the brown paper bags waiting. "I have deliveries to make."

"I'll do them."

You stood in front of the bags, blocking him. Yoongi frowned.

"You have food to make."

"Yoongi," you said softly. "Go home and recover. You probably didn't get much sleep last night. I can see your dark circles."

He chuckled, the noise dying in his throat as he looked at your serious expression.

"I always have dark circles."

"I don't want you to get in an accident because of sleep deprivation."

"I won't get into an accident," Yoongi said impatiently. He tried to move around you, but you and your flour-covered apron blocked him.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

The way you said it stopped him. You thought of your father, laying in the hospital, doctors and nurses trying to make sure he was okay after the surgery. Yoongi could see it in your eyes. He sighed.

"Look, it's just a couple bruises. I did this to myself," he mumbled. His eyes shifted from side to side before they came back to you. "I need to make money. I'm short on rent because of this."

"Then I'll pay you," you insisted. "You need to rest."

You suddenly realized Yoongi was very close to you now, looking down at you from under his black baseball cap. His chest was almost touching your chest. The scent of leather and pine cologne filled your nose, vastly different from your dusty flour-covered self. His cat-like eyes were on you, expression unreadable.

"This is my rest," Yoongi said quietly. "Helping you deliver orders is the least stressful part of my day."

For a long moment, you didn't move. You weren't sure if it was because you were still worried or because Yoongi was so close and it felt weird all of a sudden, as if you recalled the way his body hit yours earlier and the way his breath tickled your skin.

You moved away and Yoongi collected the bags, careful not to drop them. You always ordered them so they were from first to last delivery, maximizing efficiency and order number. He made his way to the back door, using his back to open it.

You spoke again, voice nearly cracking.

"Please don't get hurt."

Yoongi looked up from under his black cap, expressionless. You expected him to give you a snarky remark as usual.

"I won't."

He headed out.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x you #yoongi scenarios

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fandomn00blr · 3 years ago

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OC Questionnaire

@cleverblackcat tagged me into this one a few days ago, and I started filling it out for Delilah Howe (not an OC...an adopted NPC!) and I am still working on it for her. But then @funkypoacher tagged me, and gave me specific permission to do it for *my* versions of Carver or Stroud...lol...

So anyway, here’s Stroud, everyone’s Warden Dad(...dy...? jk jk...unless?)

THE BASICS

Character’s name: Jean-Marc Stroud

Role in story: He’s your dad now...unless you’re Loghain and then he’s your infuriating boyfriend/husband whom you are absolutely smitten with...also, Warden-Commander of the Eastern Wardens after Dragon Age Awakening

Physical description: I feel a bit guilty constantly objectifying this poor man and his mustache, but he is just...*chef’s kiss* (Loghain’s POV, but also mine):

Stroud’s quite fit for a man his age, an unmistakably sturdy V-shaped torso atop well-muscled legs, with broad shoulders and strong, defined arms. He’s never quite realized just how chiseled and square his jaw is, either. And as his eyes rove over his face, he tries not to stare too longingly at his lips, which he’s already been acquainted with, though it feels like it’s been ages since that cave-in, and he certainly wouldn’t mind getting re-acquainted. With any part of him, really.

(LOGHAIN! STOP BEING SO HORNY FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND, YOU GRUMPY OLD BASTARD!)

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type: IDK

INTERNAL LIFE

What is their greatest fear? Probably disappointing anyone who is depending on him for safety/protection/reassurance

Inner motivation: Is ‘just wants everyone to feel safe’ an inner motivation? No. Shoot. STROUD WHAT MOTIVATES YOU?! Oh, I know...the fact that he lost everyone and everything he cared about to the Game and instead of going on a fucking rampage, he internalized it and joined the Wardens so that their deaths wouldn’t have been a total waste. What’s that called?

Kryptonite: If one of his Warden ‘kids’ is hurting, it hurts him...doubly so if he can’t do anything about it.

What is their misbelief about the world? Ok, so this is a tough one. Dude has been through all of it, and still believes in the power of kindness and duty and compassion, but not in a naive way. He chooses it, right? So I wouldn’t call it a misbelief, but he genuinely believes everyone is capable of choosing good, or trying to do better, or whatever. Shut up. I’m not crying, I swear.

Lesson they need to learn: You can’t save ‘em all (he still has regrets about what happened with Anders and Justice).

What is the best thing in their life? His little Eastern Warden family...Vigil’s Keep comes to feel like home to him.

What is the worst thing in their life? The thought of ever having to deal with Orlesian politics again...which is why he’s so grumpy in Inquisition.

What do they most often look down on people for? He has very little patience for people who manipulate others for their own personal gain.

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive? Seeing his Wardens thrive/come into their own/embrace duty/grow/find love...I SAID I WASN’T CRYING!

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way? Stroud doesn’t need a lot of personal reassurance to know that people care about him and that he serves a purpose...but if someone goes out of their way to do something just for him, he absolutely falls apart. Loghain making an Orlesian-inspired dish for his birthday was the last thing I wrote of this variety, but I imagine that Loghain does a lot of stuff like that just to see Stroud’s cheerful stoicism obliterated...and also because he loves him.

Top three things they value most in life? Helping others/compassion, his found family, and his duty as a Warden (but not in, like, a stupid way...)

EXTERNAL LIFE

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with? He keeps a portrait of his family tucked away among his things...the only item he brought with him from his former life when Clarel recruited him to the Wardens.

Describe a typical outfit from top to bottom. Heavy silverite Warden armor while out on missions, over a dark blue quilted tunic with a silver embroidered griffon and leggings (?). All very official. Off-duty, he wears simple undyed cotton or wool tunics (they’re probably fitted well) and woolen breeches (also fitted...um...well...*fans self*). It’s hot. <- Loghain, again?! Yeesh...

What is their method of manipulation? He’s not big on manipulation (see above), but he knows how to get what he wants from Loghain by wiggling his mustache and just...staring at him...all twinkly-eyed. Maybe chuckling good-naturedly if he wants to bring out the big guns.

Describe their daily routine. (Whoops...I missed this one, I guess!) Wake up early. Breakfast and paperwork in his office. Meetings, etc later in the morning. Then lunch with Loghain somewhere outside, weather permitting. Meetings/more paperwork/drills and training in the afternoon. Dinner with everyone in the dining hall at the end of the day. Quiet evenings. Then bed!

Their go-to cure for a bad day? Feet up in front of a fire...some tea? Maybe with a bit of whiskey in it. And something sweet to munch on like cookies. Bonus if Loghain is there with his little shawl, reading or complaining to him, preferably both...

GOALS

How are they dissatisfied with their life? He still harbors a lot of anger and resentment toward the Game (I mean...), but he’s actually pretty satisfied with his life as a Warden.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment? This is the most selfless thing ever, but he would love to see Loghain and Anora reconciled.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality? He would never, but he totally could invite Anora to dinner at Vigil’s Keep or something and pretend it was Loghain’s idea...lol. OMG...AU where Stroud is the meddling spouse...!!!

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already? Not so much fear as it is just respect for personal boundaries or whatever...

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of? He hopes Loghain will eventually reach out to his daughter himself, or Anora will force her way back into her father’s life. During Inquisition, Loghain and Alistair (who is King and married to Anora in this world state) have a bit of a scuffle, then manage to get over their shit (sort of), so Stroud has some hope that they’ll all figure it out eventually. He just won’t be there to see it cuz he stays in the Fade, the self-sacrificing bastard.

#dragon age #character questionnaire #it's a good thing yall keep tagging me in this stuff cuz i sure can't write #stroud #jean-marc stroud #best warden #best dad #best husband #best #loghain #stroghainoff #chokedamp and feelings #also in #warden hawke #together into the abyss #kieran #omg they're in like every fic I've written this past year

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sadp0tat00 · 4 years ago

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NAV- By Member (Min Yoongi)

This is where I sort my ficrecs by member, all fics are (x reader) unless stated otherwise, personally I don’t really like reading mxm fics cos im basically a delusional y/n but sometimes i ran out of xreader, gave in, and actually found some good fics. (updated: 17 May 2021) moved from @ksjmlizt cos i’m a dumbass and can’t figured out how to use tumblr’s sideblog

Category: Angst (A), Fluff (F), Smut (S)

Status: ✔️ completed, or 🔛 ongoing, or 🛑 discontinued/ haven’t been updated for more than a year

disclaimer: these fics are not mine. I’ll tag the authors and you guys should go check their other works💕

Series:

Kitten's Little Flame by @magicalsalamander ✔️(6/6)

Hybrid AU, Children BTS ♥︎ A, F, S

You (cat hybrid) have transferred to a new elementary school because your parents have moved towns. You start your new kindergarten class and meet other hybrids, but one special one catches your eye, Yoongi, the dragon hybrid. How will you manage this new environment?

A Wish Out of Water by @jimlingss ✔️(2/2)

Genie!Yoongi ♥︎ F, A (very heavy angst towards the end IMO)

A genie could solve all your problems. Though you wouldn’t even know exactly what to ask for - money, a warmer house, a better job, a better life? But Min Yoongi is no ordinary genie. He’s here to make your life a living hell. Too bad it was hell to begin with.

The Truth Between Us by @jimlingss and @gukyi ✔️(7/7)

e2l AU, fic-ception ♥︎ A, F

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

Cat's Cradle by @whitesparrows97 ✔️(5/5)

Hybrid AU ♥︎ A, F, S

Yoongi is your best friend – and your lovable and not at all grumpy cat hybrid, who lives with you under the same roof. He despises your boyfriend Namjoon and makes sure the human gets to feel that. A fight between you unfolds and from then on everything can only go downhill.

Of Fire and Love by @hollyhomburg 🔛 (7/9)

Fantasy AU, Dragon!Yoongi ft. Baby!Jungkook, Baby Dragon!Hoseok ♥︎ A, F, S

When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Silver Spoon by @happy-meo ✔️(9/9)

Office AU, Rom-com ♥︎ F

Having been born and raised in the country side, you have worked hard your entire life to make it to the big city. You eventually achieved your dream and now you have a wonderful paying job for a large company and you continue putting your 110% into everything you do. However, your perfect plan to climb to success through consistent effort and hard work becomes disarrayed with the arrival of your branch’s new rebellious and easy-going CEO, who never desired the position in the first place and has never truly worked hard a day in his life. Your job is on the line if he can’t be turned into a quality CEO within a year, but he has no intention of changing himself for anyone or letting you boss him around so easily. How will you work your way through this obstacle? Will you succeed in changing him or will he be the one that changes you?

Greedy by @xjoonchildx 🔛 (5/?)

Mafia AU, pining ♥︎ A, F, eventual S

being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.

Oneshot:

Love Grows Where You Go by @hueseok

Arranged Marriage AU, Pining AU, Tsundere!Yoongi ♥︎ A, F, S

determined to make you and yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. you know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you’re positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don’t find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. that is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned.

Make me by @ppersonna

pwp, filthy fluff lol ♥︎ F, S

an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbours above you.

Demon!Yoongi Drabble by @jungshookz

Halloween AU ♥︎ F, S

All I Want for Christmas by @hayjeon

Single dad!Yoongi, CEO!Yoongi, Secretary!reader ♥︎ F

Hold Me Tight by @floralseokjin

Established Relationship AU ♥︎ A

the end of a relationship comes slowly but suddenly

Something to hold on @fantasybangtan

Single dad!Yoongi, Christmas AU ♥︎ A, F

it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles…. worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.

Yoongi as Neuroserugon

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finitepeace · 4 years ago

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fics i read this week:

I read some bucky x natasha fics:

Head Is Not My Home by taralkariel

Summary: The Black Widow is a legend. Legends aren't made cheap.

Shaken by the events of Civil War, Natasha Romanoff goes back to familiar ground to hide. To hide and remember how she became the Black Widow. How Natalia Romanova would do anything to save her father-figure. How she was one of 28 ballerinas with the Bolshoi - no, one of 28 Black Widow agents with the Red Room. How the only thing that made her feel human was a man with a metal arm.

(A story to show what really happened in the comics Red Room and how it could fit into the MCU)

19k words in 12 chapters, not rated (maybe T&up?), bucky nat up to IW, i think. it’s not very dark themed <3,

tell me baby, do you recognize me? by xocean

Summary: "You're a liar." Natasha is shaking. "You're a heartless, lonely, lying murderer."

He doesn't even blink. "We both are."

The Winter Soldier's game is up, and Steve's not letting him go this time. Enter the only person who doesn't want a part in this shitfest: Natasha Romanov.

Or, as James Buchanan Barnes remembers her: Natalia Romanova.

63k words in 10 chapters (from 11), angst.

and an IronDad x SpiderSon fic:

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight 💙

Summary: Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester.

He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

7k words in 4 chapters, tony acting like a dad (and awesome professor)

as usual, the rest are Stony fics:

American Dream by NobodysBloodyPrincess

Summary: Tony is trying, but try as he might he just can’t find the silver lining of this particular disaster.

After all, what happiness could possibly be derived from the knowledge that the perfect little girl in his arms is now motherless? What relief could be drawn, when his boyfriend of ten years, the love of his life really, is probably, currently, right at this moment in the arms of ‘Peggy’ his new fiancé?

13k words, no powers au, tony-centric, stevetony has broken up and tony adopts a kid, steve is depicted a bit insensitive (idk what the word, like unable to read the room?) here.

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy 💙

Summary: Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

233k words in 12 chapters, post endgame resurrections (?), gladiator trope, lots of action scenes, and THERE’S MORGAN x STEVE INTERACTIONS!!!!!

The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing

Summary: Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.

9k words, comic book’s civil war not MCU’s, angst but gnidne yppah

Together, Always by Sapphic_Futurist 💙

Summary: He swallows hard, a prickle of tears in his eyes because this is his husband.

This is Tony Stark and Steve’s husband, and Steve gets to have this. He gets to have this for the rest of his goddamn life.

30k words in 3 chapters, embodiment of stony’s “together” T_T, read the tags if you want to be spoiled lol if not then enjoy! (and I don’t regret not reading the tags tbh)

And I'd Buy A Big House Where We Both Could Live by shinkonokokoro

Summary: Missing: Tony Stark, billionaire businessman, heir to Stark Industries, reward: none

Only Steve didn't know that when he picked up the waterlogged unconscious man from the bank of a river.

59k words in 29 chapters, non-power au, kid clint and peter as steve’s brothers

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

Summary: Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that

6k words, fake dating into real dating

Home Is Where the Time Machine Is by Wordsplat 💙

Summary:Steve and Tony's daughter accidentally falls back in time, and learns that impossible time travel phone calls can and will be made just to ground you, big brothers are awful snitches, and parents used to date other people. The past blows.

23k words in 5 chapters, domestic, stony being married

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Summary: “Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

11k words, tony being peacefully oblivious while the whole world isn’t.

I Started a Joke by Naferty

Summary "Tony?"

"Who the hell is Tony?"

102k words in 11 chapters, tony is the winter soldier

Take Two by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Steve loses his memory but he gets the feeling he's lost a lot more. Who exactly is Tony Stark to him and why won't he come out of the basement?

24k words, i just love it.

Sunrise Over the End of the World by Sapphic_Futurist

Summary: When Dr. Strange arrives at an Accords Committee Meeting and warns of the coming of an alien megalomaniac set on destroying the world, the Rogues are pardoned and Tony finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be. Back at the Compound with Steve, who still can't take a hint and won't leave him alone.

In which Tony is broken and Steve finds redemption.

35k in 11 chapters, explicit, civil war fix-it up to infinity war

Far Away And Long Ago by Ragdoll (Keshka) 💙

Summary: Steve steps into the past and discovers that hope held on a pedestal is as insubstantial as smoke. Then he sees Tony. And that's when things get complicated.

Full summary contained within.

18k in 4 chapters, mature, seems like abandoned WIP :( endgame fix-it au when steve returns the stones...

Something More Than What They Are series by Sapphic_Futurist

An exploration of love, denial and propensity for change.

38k in 4 works, explicit, Steve and Tony are married during the civil war madness but seems like their love is not enough to stop it from happening or reconciling T_T

the marks you choose to leave behind by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Stane faction has been around for many years, long before Tony was bitten. And since he was forced, his life has been nothing short of misery and pain; a prison he will never escape. As a low member of the faction, his only hope at survival is to remain a loyal pet to Ezekiel. So when Ezekiel mentions the growing threat of the Avengers of the Undead, and the dreaded Captain, Tony is adamant to step up and do what he can. It’s also his last chance to see the outside world before he’s bonded to Whitney forever.

But what he finds instead is an unlikely companion with golden eyes. A strange werewolf by the name of Steve.

35k, general, vampire tony/werewolf steve, based on earth-666

La La Love by Wordsplat

Summary: "To be perfectly clear, Tony always knew that Stephanie Rogers was the best thing that would ever happen to him."

4k words, teen up and audiences, female Steve, highschool au, awkward tony

Meet Your Heroes by Wordsplat

Summary:Tony gets rescued by a highly concerned, very handsy Captain America. This is confusing for a number of reasons.

4k words, identity porn AU,

Hashtag Finally by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Tony doesn't ever actually ask the Avengers to move into his house, steal his wifi, eat all his food, and become the best family he's ever known. They do it anyway.

15k, teen&up, domestic avengers a.k.a. tower life, hyperactive Clint lol, super cute, everyone are stony supporters

Thanks For the Memories by Wordsplat

Summary: When Tony is sent crashing-all too literally-into the 1940's by an alternate-universe Loki's spell, neither Tony nor Steve are prepared for the consequences.

9k words, time travel au, secret pining

#stony #stevetony #irondad #bucknat #fics read

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charincharge · 5 years ago

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I Don’t Want To Wait, three

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts :

Subtle glances at each other but they don’t notice Everyone else knows how they feel Where one of them subconsciously copies the others movements.... For Rowaelin HS au (of course)

Person A sneaking things into the cart when Person B isn’t looking. I thought of Aelin sneaking some chocolate sweets 😂

“Ace, control yourself.”

Rowan removed the family-sized bag of assorted chocolates from their grocery cart and replaced it with a smaller one. Aelin pouted and widened her eyes, hoping that her puppy dog eyes would distract her best friend, but he remained resolute. He walked a little further down the aisle and placed a bag of trail mix into the cart. Aelin picked it up and frowned.

“Ro, there’s not even chocolate in this!” she whined, and Rowan rolled his eyes. “Who eats trail mix without chocolate? That’s a crime against humanity.”

“Some of us have lacrosse nationals to prep for and might want nutritious snacks.”

“You can have all the carrots and humus you want,” Aelin laughed, grabbing two bags of potato chips and a can of queso.

“You’re never going to make it through this all-nighter if you eat that crap,” Rowan chastised, but Aelin merely flicked him off in return.

“Please. My body runs on grease and sugar and caffeine,” she bragged. “I’ll be fine.”

Rowan’s eyes slowly perused her body, and Aelin resisted tugging at the hem of her cropped hoodie, studiously ignoring Rowan’s pointed gaze.

“It is kind of insane how true that is,” Rowan said, eyes still affixed to the few inches of exposed skin between her jeans and top. “You’re a medical marvel. Doctors should study you.”

“I exercise,” Aelin huffed in response, and Rowan barked out a loud laugh. As a varsity athlete, Rowan’s exercise regiment bordered on extreme – a five mile run every morning, lacrosse practice every afternoon, followed by weight lifting.

“Says the girl who uses cramps to get out of gym every other week, and then the week you actually have your period.”

Aelin snorted loudly. “It’s not my fault that Coach Hammel doesn’t know anything about the female reproductive system.” Aelin frowned. “And by the way, it’s weird that you track my period.”

She watched as Rowan’s ears turned pink, but he rolled his eyes regardless. “It’s for my own protection. I need to know when to steer clear, otherwise you might mistake me for a piece of chocolate and bite my head off,” he said, poking her in the ribs.

Aelin could feel herself heating up, imagining how delicious Rowan might taste with some chocolate on him.

Since Aelin’s birthday, it was as if her hormones were constantly going haywire. Some sort of teenage hormonal glitch, for sure. Her lust for Rowan had blossomed, and she was no longer in control of her thoughts or her body’s flustered reactions to his presence.

Since their weird, too-close slow dance just a few weeks ago, Aelin had kept track of every time Rowan had touched her. Her body was just… hyper aware of him.

It wasn’t as if Rowan hadn’t touched her before – no, the pair of best friends had always been comfortable with each other in their casual physical intimacy. But suddenly, it was driving Aelin insane. To the point of distraction. She’d written down every pinch and tickle and arm slung over her shoulder with a time code into her diary, just to organize how frequently he touched her.

It wasn’t even that the touching was inappropriate. No, it was completely innocent, but she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if it meant something. Like, maybe Rowan wanted to kiss her too?

She mentally clocked another one to add to her diary – Tuesday at 5:12pm: Rowan poked her side in the grocery aisle.

To combat her rising flush, she diverted her attention to their full cart, overflowing with every kind of junk food from frozen pizza to cookies to tubs of icing to energy drinks and every snack food in between. Rowan’s healthy food section was a paltry sampling of baby carrots, hummus and now his gross, chocolate-free trail mix. They had exactly what they needed for a late night of cramming for their world history exam.

As they made their way to the front to pay, Aelin took a quick moment to replace the bag of chocolates with the family sized one. Rowan didn’t notice until she placed it on the conveyer belt to pay, which he noted with a loud sigh.

“You’re a menace to society,” Rowan he said, squeezing her side.

As Aelin paid, Rowan brushed by her again, his fingertips ever so slightly caressing the bare skin of her back, flustering Aelin completely. Her cheeks heated as she fumbled with the credit card in her hand. Gods, she could not get her lust under control today. How many times had she blushed in this shopping trip alone? But also…

Was that necessary?! She wanted to scream at him as he took his place at the end of the belt to help bag groceries. She looked up at the cashier, who was looking at her with a knowing smile on her face.

“Huh?” Aelin asked, not having quite heard the cashier.

“$83.78,” the cashier repeated, glancing quickly at Rowan and then back at Aelin.

“Right,” Aelin mumbled, ignoring the cashier’s pointed look and swiping her dad’s card quickly.

Rowan hoisted the bags onto his broad shoulders and led the way back to his car, completely oblivious to Aelin’s most recent spike of arousal. Luckily, Rowan was unable to touch her over the large center console of his jeep, and Aelin propped her feet up on the dash, giving herself some space to cool down.

But as he put on his driving playlist, her eyes unwittingly slid to him. She couldn’t help herself. Somewhere over the last six months, he’d grown about four inches and had started filling out his lanky body with actual muscles. She glanced at her best friend’s face, noticing his long blonde lashes and sloped nose and his silver-blonde hair, in desperate need of a haircut, falling ever so slightly into his dark green eyes.

“Why are you staring at me?” Rowan asked, never taking his eyes off the road. He was nothing if not an overly cautious driver.

Aelin leaned forward and poked her thumb against his cheek. She briefly wondered if Rowan was cataloguing every time she touched him, too. She doubted it. Instead of saying anything incriminating, she went with something ridiculous.

“Do you think you’ll ever need to shave, or are you too blonde to grow facial hair?” she asked, causing Rowan to scowl. He leaned his head down and lifted his shoulder, trapping Aelin’s fingers. She laughed loudly, wriggling her fingers, but she didn’t try hard to remove them. Why would she?

“Why, you think I’d look good with a beard?” Rowan asked, and Aelin crinkled her eyes trying to imagine him, even more grown with a full face of stubble. She just couldn’t.

She must have been making quite the disgruntled expression, because Rowan looked immediately offended as he released her hand from its hold and snapped at her free fingers with his bared teeth. Aelin squealed and pulled her hand back into her lap. “Rude,” he said, pulling into Aelin’s driveway.

“Your dad just left,” Elide announced, barely waiting until the jeep was in park to pull the door open. “He said not to burn the house down.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. That was her dad’s sign off every time he left to go to work. Aelin had started one tiny fire while attempting to cook dinner alone one time, and her father had shown up with the entire Orynth Fire Department in full gear, ready to rescue his daughter from certain death. He’d never let her live it down. She was OFD legend.

“What’d you get?” Lysandra asked, rifling through one of the grocery bags. “Oh! Stuffed crust,” she said with a grin. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

Lysandra batted her long lashes at Aelin, slipping her arm around her friend’s waist as Aelin led them all into the house. Another arm tugged at Lysandra, pulling her away, and Aelin laughed at Lysandra’s annoyed squeal with her boyfriend.

“Wes, go help Elide set up our work stations,” Lysandra ordered, and Wesley immediately pouted, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist even tighter, nibbling at her neck.

“But I’m so hungry,” he complained.

Lysandra pushed his face off her as she narrowed her eyes with warning.

“You get that snack after you help me ace this exam,” Lysandra smirked, and Wesley nuzzled his chin against her shoulder, pulling her closer.

“This is a PDA free night,” Rowan groaned, unloading his healthy snacks. “You promised.” He wagged his finger at the amorous couple, who, since losing their virginities to each other over spring break had been completely inseparable. At the mouth and the groin.

Wesley kissed Lysandra one last time before taking a large step back.

“Just because you’re not getting any,” he grumbled, “Don’t be a killjoy.”

Rowan’s mouth dropped as he continued to plate his carrots. “I could get some… if I wanted…” he mumbled under his breath, causing both Aelin and Lysandra to burst into laughter.

“Sure you could, Buzzard,” Aelin said with an overzealous wink. She grabbed her bags of chips and queso and left a flustered Rowan in the kitchen.

Aelin plopped down onto the couch and groaned at the extensive schedule Elide had written up for them.

“I’ve broken up our schedule into twelve, forty-minute long increments,” Elide explained, tying her dark hair up into a bun. “If we stick to the schedule, we should be fully crammed in… eight hours.”

Aelin pouted as she opened her chips. She knew she was in for a long night, putting Elide in charge of the study schedule. But… eight hours? That meant they’d be studying until two in the morning.

Elide clapped loudly as she started handing out flashcards. “Let’s go, team.”

Six hours later, Aelin was ready to collapse. It was approaching midnight, and they’d made it through nine of the twelve study sections. Only three more to go until freedom. She knew she was supposed to have thoughts of Elirea history swirling through her head, but since Rowan took his place on the floor next to her, she was having a hard time concentrating.

“You know what we need?” Wesley said, twirling one of Lysandra’s chestnut curls around his fingers. Aelin shrugged. “A bowl,” he said. “I always study better when I’m buzzed.”

“You think my dad wouldn’t be able to smell weed as soon as he walked into the house? The man is like a bloodhound for smoke,” Aelin replied, trying to ignore the way Rowan leaned back into her in agreement.

“Gods, I can’t wait to smoke a giant bowl after lacrosse season is over,” Rowan said, resting his chin on top of Aelin’s head.

“Pack it for two, Buzzard,” Aelin said with a laugh, and she could feel Rowan nod against her scalp.

“What about ice cream instead?” Elide suggested. “I think we could all use a sugar bump.”

Lysandra jumped to her feet, moaning loudly as she stretched her arms above her head, her back popping with each subtle movement. Aelin watched as Wesley practically salivated, getting a glimpse of her lacy bra strap. He grabbed at Lysandra’s thigh, and Aelin laughed as she kicked him off gently with a wink.

“Soon, babe.”

Aelin’s filter must have disappeared with her exhaustion because upon looking at her two friends she shouted out, “You two cannot fuck in my house.”

“Please, I’m classier than that.”

“Are you?” Aelin asked, causing Rowan to snort into her hair.

Lysandra blushed but ignored Aelin as she swayed her hips all the way into the kitchen. She reappeared with three pints of ice cream and five spoons.

Aelin immediately grabbed her favorite flavor, Half Baked, and stuck her spoon into it. Her lips wrapped around the cold metal and she couldn’t help but moan loudly at the fudge brownie bite.

She nearly protested as someone else stuck their spoon into her pint, but she stopped herself when she saw it was Rowan.

“Sugar? Really?” she asked. “You must be really tired.”

She watched as Rowan smirked in response, taking a large bite for himself. Aelin’s throat dried as she watched his lips wrap around his spoon, his tongue peeking out and licking the remainder of the ice cream. How was it possible that he made ice cream look pornographic?

“Yum,” he said softly, and took another bite for himself.

There was something weirdly intimate about sharing a pint of ice cream. One pint, two spoons. Aelin completely missed the tenth section of Elide’s schedule because she was too focused on the way Rowan was eating next to her, occasionally knocking his spoon into hers.

When they got to the second to last section, Aelin realized she’d forgotten her notes upstairs. Grateful to have an excuse for some space to cool down, she made her way up to her bedroom to search for her notebook. Even though it was exactly where she’d left it – on her desk, Aelin couldn’t resist the fluffy allure of her bed. She looked at the clock, almost one am. She was so, so tired.

Knowing her friends would absolutely send someone to find her if she didn’t come back downstairs in a few minutes, Aelin risked getting into bed, huddling under the covers for a very quick power nap. Sleep found her quickly, and before she knew it, she was being woken up by soft whispers and laughter.

“Should we wake them?” she could hear Elide ask, and Lysandra’s chuckled reply came quickly after.

“No, don’t wake them.” A long pause. “They’re so cute.”

“And stupid,” Wesley drawled.

Aelin went to roll out of bed, but she found herself pinned down by something heavy. She cracked her eye open and was shocked to realize that Rowan was on top of her comforter, arm flung around her shoulders, deep asleep next to her. His light snores made Aelin smile.

Aelin moved her head over her shoulder, only to see her three friends standing in her doorway, staring at the sleeping friends, wide grins plastered to their faces.

“We sent him to bring you back an hour ago,” Lysandra explained.

Aelin glanced at the clock. Officially 2am. They must have finished Elide’s study schedule. Shit. Well, hopefully Aelin could remember enough of the other topics to do well on this exam. Despite her movement, Rowan didn’t stir once.

“Just leave a note for my dad downstairs that Rowan is here?” Aelin asked, not feeling particularly inclined to move out of his grasp at all.

“Done.” Elide nodded. “Already texted Aunt Maeve, too.”

“Love you,” Aelin mumbled out to her friends, already letting sleep overtake her vision again.

“Love you, too,” Rowan mumbled in his sleep, sticking his nose into Aelin’s hair.

Aelin ignored her friends’ snickering and closed her eyes and burrowed into Rowan’s soft shirt. Inhaling deeply, she was asleep before she even heard the front door close.

~*~*~*~

AN: I’m starting a ToG tag list. Please let me know if you’d like to be added to it HERE (replies in notes tend to get lost, so if you’ve asked to be tagged already and you’re not, please don’t hesitate to ask again!)

tag list:

@df3ndyr

@hizqueen4life

@maastrash

@justgiu12

@aknymph

@bamchickawowow

@thewayshedreamed

@strangeenemy

@studyliketate

@iammissstark

@heirofthenightcourt

@acourtofmarauders

@cmoff1

@stardelia

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@louiseleblancdiggory

@superspiritfestival

#rowaelin #high school au #charincharge writes

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starbuckie · 4 years ago

Text

All You Knead is Love Chapter Four: A Bit Untraditional

Challenge: The CBC 1k Writing Challenge by @captainscanadian

Prompt: Bakery AU

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Warnings: Loads and loads of fluff, angst, mentions of PTSD and violence, pining, language as always, and slow burn

*TW: PANIC ATTACK*

Description: After being cut off by her family, Y/N L/N started up her own business. With her business finally rising to the top after three years, her family invites her back on two conditions: that she finds a man and gets married. Once she accomplishes that, then she’ll be able to access her family’s fortune again, which could help her business immensely. While that didn’t sound horrible to her, Y/N had never let herself have the time to meet other people, and has no time now. Running on a deadline for the company, she picks the closest person she can find: which happens to be the sweet, shy, yet hot baker who occasionally caters at her galas.

Words: 2,064 words

A/N: Hey guys! It’s been a solid two months, but I am back and hopefully kicking it with this series. I actually decided to rewrite the ending of the story from what I originally had planned, so I’m very very excited to write it. The holidays are coming up which has me excited, and if you haven’t already sen in a request for the Twelve Days of Fluffmas, you most definitely should. Again, this is for @captainscanadian‘s writing challenge(which you should go join do it do it do it) and hope you enjoy :))

Thursday approached menacingly and rapidly. In the few days they had to prepare, Y/N had managed to move all of her belongings from her pretty empty apartment on the Lower West Side, and into the house that they had bought. She couldn’t be any more grateful for her real estate agent for being so snappy with the process of buying the house. The apartment she left behind had barely been decorated, so the process wasn’t too difficult for her to move in. Bucky on the other hand had started to bring boxes over, at Y/N’s slight insistence that her parents may ask to come over, but his house held so many memories that he knew it would take much longer. It was difficult for him to leave the home he had known for so long, full of cherished memories and the only stable home he had after Iraq. But he was ready to let it go.

The evening of the big engagement dinner Y/N and Bucky were frantic, rushing around the house after work to shower and look presentable, making sure they could pull the stunt off. Bucky’s nerves had been on edge all day, slipping out of the house at two am, hours earlier than normal to start his day. As he talked to customers and served coffee, the words he’d rehearsed with Y/N echoed in his brain, taking over every nook and cranny of his thoughts that he messed up several orders. This time he wouldn’t get nervous. It took him long months to feel the slightest bit comfortable in his own skin and around his neighbors, so if he ran his own bakery he could propose, right?

“So,” Mrs. L/N tried to conceal her disgusted face, “James, what kind of, er, delicacies do you make?”

So the conversation was less than great, even Bucky could admit that. Although Y/n had warned him ahead of time that her parents were not the most amazing conversationalists, he expected something better than this awkward discussion about his job. He loved his job. It brought back cinnamon flavored memories of baking at Christmas with his ma, his dad and younger sister yelling over Scrabble in the living room. Barnes Brooklyn Bakery was his pride and joy, yet he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious when both of Y/N’s parents looked down on it.

“I make lots of things. It requires an earlier or later start time based off of what I’m making, because I want everything to be fresh. But my ma’s croissants are a big seller, and I know that Y/N loves my cinnamon rolls.” He sent her a soft smile, one that the woman in question couldn’t help but return.

“They’re amazing, mom, you have to try them. I swear those hands are absolutely magic and anything that’s made from them is as well.” She intertwined her pinky with Bucky’s on the table, admiring the way the candlelight illuminated the slope of his nose and the hollow of his cheekbones. God, this man has no right being this beautiful. “Bucky’s a hard worker and it shows.”

Y/N’s praise breezed through Bucky like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly his head was clear again, cheeks flushing. “Thanks, doll.”

“And what about your pay, James? How much do you make annually? I have to make sure you’ll be able to support both you and Y/N. After all, her pay from her… makeup brand and her funds can’t be enough.” Fury raged through Y/N, Bucky could probably see it in her eyes as she opened her mouth, prepared to make her argument.

“I make well enough at Orion, dad, but that’s not the point.” Meeting Bucky’s stare from her peripheral vision, she almost panicked. The reason they were sitting there in the first place was so Bucky could get more money for his bakery. “Must you really bring up business at the table? I’m simply trying to have a nice dinner with my boyfriend and my parents, is it really that difficult to ignore money matters for once?”

Her parents eyed each other, as if they were speaking in their own silent, separate language and reluctantly quieted down. The rest of dinner was... tense, to say the very least, stiff questions about childhood and answers being reciprocated as well. Sitting in the presence of her parents, their food tasted bland, but that could’ve been from the anxiety of waiting for the proposal. They’d decided that Bucky was to pop the question while they ate dessert, just a simple small speech and a few tears.

Bucky’s eyes kept trailing back to Y/N as they shared a matcha tiramisu, repeating the words “will you marry me” a million differents ways in his head. The small restaurant he felt comfortable with suddenly felt too small, Bucky not knowing when the proper time to get down on one knee. They hadn’t discussed this. Y/N had just said “whenever you feel is right”, but when was right? The whole idea just felt so wrong to him. Marriage was supposed to be loving, a holy union and commitment for the rest of their lives. He and Y/n didn’t love each other. The whole sham of being husband and wife, for money suddenly felt so sickening to him. The room was closing in on him and all he wanted to do was bolt out and never turn back. He was going back out, he was going to, he felt it, and-

“Marry me, Y/N.” Dead silence. Eyes from all the customers sitting were baring through the couple, seeing his innermost secrets and every one of them felt like a beam of light, boring straight through his soul. Bucky hadn’t even realized how he had practically yelled it at her until the restaurant had gone quiet and he was absolutely mortified. Y/N’s eyes were wide in shock, as this was not how she imagined it going. Yet, the show had to go on.

He instinctively dropped onto one knee, eyes trained at the ground because he was scared of what he would see in her eyes. Short puffs of breath left his mouth and he all of Manhattan could hear his heart pounding. “When we met, I knew you were the one for me. I knew you were beautiful, hell, y-you were gorgeous that day you walked into the bakery, but every time you came in after I got to know the beautiful woman that wasn’t just on the outside, but on the inside too.” His eyes started tearing up, from both his kind of true confession and the pressure that was being put on him. “I-I promise to love you with all my heart. You’re my best friend, my confidante, my soulmate, and I want to be walking by my side for the rest of our lives, doll. I want to be yours forever. What do you say?”

Bucky lifted his gaze up to meet hers, hands covering her mouth as a soft sigh left her lips. Y/N couldn’t believe the beautiful sight. Shaking hands held a small cut diamond nestled in between two simple silver bands. Bucky’s hair was fluffy, newly so from his haircut the other day, clean shaven jaw showcasing the highlights of his cheekbones, and his eyes. She could go on forever about those pretty, blue eyes of his, but in the two years of knowing him, they had never been as pretty as they were in that moment, pretty blue eyes peering up at her.

Here he was, the man that she considered one of her closest friends in the city, literally giving his solitary life up to spend it with her. She wasn’t in love with him, not now at least, but those lingering feelings of hers tried to once again force their way back into her heart.

And this time, at the worst time possible, she let them.

With a small but giddy grin, she nodded and placed her hand on his cheek. “Yes, Bucky, I’ll marry you.”

He let out a long sigh at her approval, but the applause and cheers directed at him continued to make his heart race. Bucky slipped the ring onto her finger clumsily, his breath starting to become more labored as the cheers of “kiss” got louder. Y/N noticed his harsh breathing, and as she pulled him into an enveloping embrace she could feel the rapid beating of his heart the thin dress shirt he wore. “Can we go, Y/N?”

His whispered voice quivered, as if he were to break at any moment. “Of course, Bucky, I’ll go say goodbye and you can start heading to the car.” Grip on her waist tightened as she heard him grind his teeth.

“Please stay with me.”

Of course I’ll stay with you. “Always.” The cheers had not stopped, their voices still ringing strong throughout the restaurant. With no hesitation, Y/N planted a kiss on his cheek, hopefully ridding themselves of the large crowd they had garnered. Her parents looked confused, both of their eyebrows raised at the couple who still had yet to do anything besides hug at their engagement. “Mom, dad, Bucky and I are gonna go home to… celebrate by ourselves.”

Both of them heated up. “Just leave, we’ll take care of the bill. Your father will send you information for the fund over the weekend.” Mrs. L/N eyed both of them skeptically before saying, “Congratulations, Y/N.”

As soon as they got outside Bucky’s knees buckled, Y/N rubbing his back to try and console his breathing. His mind had grown hazy with wild thoughts, the crowd, the proposal, Y/N’s fucking perfume, it was all too much.

It was crawling underneath a truck in the boiling sun, Sam screaming for him, the first blossom of pain and staring down at his left arm, bloodied and detached from his body. It was screaming at his little sister to leave when she brought him groceries, ripping up Steve’s letters from Iraq. It was hours upon hours sitting in medical beds, sitting on couches, staring at the ceiling while doctors attempted to get him to open up. It was panicking at the bakery when someone eyed his prosthetic for too long and women leaving dates with him at the diner on 5th street after he failed to tell them all the gory details about how he lost his arm when they persistently asked. It was every moment he had looked at Y/N, all smiles and kind eyes, and wishing for once that he could not be a fucking coward and ask her out.

“I’m sorry.” The woman whispered. She now kneeled next to him, her right arm tracing shapes on his back, the light scrape of her nails bringing him to somewhat of a peace.

“I don’t need your pity, Y/N.” The second it left his lips he regretted it, waiting for her to leave him alone. They all did eventually. But Y/N sat there, patiently, with a small tilt to her red-painted lips.

“I’m not pitying you, Bucky. You’re one of the strongest and bravest people I know, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I just can’t believe I relapsed.” He let out a humorless laugh, his chin coming to rest in his palm. “I thought I was doing well, I always feel okay at the bakery, but I guess that the restaurant was too much. Haven’t been to one in at least a year.”

“It’s completely okay to have panic attacks and to relapse, okay, Bucky? Don’t beat yourself up about it, honey.” Kicking her high heels off, she brought herself down to his level, both of them sitting on the sidewalk as people passed them by. Though they were in New York, the city that never sleeps, she strangely felt calm. People didn’t even turn their heads at the two well-dressed people sitting on the ground. “I would’ve proposed to you, you know.”

“You propose to me? That’ isn't very traditional,” Bucky said with a breathy chuckle.

“To be fair, is any of this?” His grin was starting to grow back, and he squeezed her hand and looked out into the crowded street of the night.

“No, I suppose it isn’t.”

TAGLIST

@aiofheavenandhell @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @adorkably @marvelnaturalock

AKYIL TAGLIST

@aiofheavenandhell @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @captainscanadian @93generation @drunkbucky @thebadassbitchqueen @asonofpeter @cosmicbreathe @adorkably @awesomeannanumber1 @blubberingmess @every-marveler-ever @supraveng @delicatecapnerd @bitchwhytho @peace-love-hobbitness @learisa @marvelnaturalock

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 4 years ago

Text

TATMILB, CHAPTER 3

Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.

Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.

Chapter 3: Penelope tries to bond with Alex during movie night; he and Lydia bring the family’s donations to Goodwill. Schneider returns from vacation and confronts Penelope. She panics.

While Schneider was away with Nikki over the weekend, Penelope splurged on a trip to the movies--luring Alex with the promise of food he didn’t have to sneak in.

She was trying to focus on silver linings instead of her anxieties about Elena, and the upsides included her new availability for Alex. Twice as much parent to go around could only lead to more bonding, right?

He had lobbied for an R-rated comedy, which she was definitely not willing to pay for. On her own, she would’ve headed right for the newest Bradley Cooper drama, but no amount of chocolate could convince Alex to sit through that.

So they compromised on an action movie--which would have the added benefit of covering up the sound of her soda later. Agreeing to buy concessions for Alex didn’t make her a different person. Her discount snacks were better than their overpriced junk, anyway.

He grinned at her over his bucket of popcorn while they waited for the lights to go down, and she considered her bribery a success. See, she could be the cool mom. Even if she had Raisinets in her cargo pants.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still miss Max?”

Where did that come from? The question hurt, mostly because it was so unexpected. With Max exiting her life right before Lydia’s stroke, neither Alex or Elena had mentioned him much in the last year. They’d all had other things on their minds.

She let the pain pass by before she answered.

“Yes, Papito, I still do. It’s hard to let go of people you love. Sometimes, a part of you misses them even after you’ve moved on.”

He nodded, sipping his soda.

“Do you think you’ll start dating again anytime soon?”

That question was even more out of character for her son, whose world had been so often self-centered since he first came into it.

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my dating life?”

“I was just wondering.”

”Well, I’m having fun the way things are. You and me, catching a movie on a Friday night, mother and son time with Elena away. Why would I want to date when I could be doing this?”

She grabbed a handful of popcorn and caught the way he cringed. Or flinched. Whatever it was, there was guilt there. Her mom radar went up.

“Alex, what is it? Is something going on?”

“It’s nothing!” He assured her in a rush. “It’s just...I kind of--did have a date.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. You wanted to go out together, so I rain checked it with Chloe for next weekend. But I mean, let’s be real, Mom. This can’t last forever. I’ll go off to college too, or modeling school, whatever, and then who will you hang out with?”

The trailers started playing, just in time, letting her wallow until the movie started.

Penelope couldn’t keep the sadness off her face as she watched Alex settle in with his snacks. He was growing up so fast on her. Too fast. And Elena was practically out of the house already.

She didn’t want to date just to avoid being alone, but hearing that concern from her teenage son? Ouch. So much for being the cool mom.

Now Penelope was glad that they’d picked an action flick. She was ready to watch some stuff blow up.

****

Alex emerged from his room the next morning waving his phone at her.

“Mom, that was the third text I’ve gotten from Elena since she left reminding us to take that stuff to Goodwill.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Penelope replied.

She was almost out the door, but her son had the luxury of sleeping in on Saturdays until baseball season started. He was taking full advantage of it.

“Seriously, she woke me up--and I need my beauty rest. She’s not gonna stop bugging me until you drop it off.”

“Alex...” Penelope shrugged into her coat, kissing her Mami on the cheek in thanks for the quick cafecito she had substituted for breakfast. “It’s all boxed up, we finished it before she left; it’ll get there.”

“I’m just saying, she’s gonna start texting you next, and I don’t think you’ll enjoy the lectures any more than I do.”

“Well, I’ve got plans with Jill today--and I’m about to be late. Mami?” She raised hopeful eyebrows in Lydia’s direction.

“Hmm?”

“Can you go with Alex to the Goodwill donation dropoff? I won’t be back until dinner.”

“Si, Lupita. Go have fun with your friend, we will handle it.”

“Great. Thanks. The things I’m getting rid of are in my room, next to the closet.”

“You know, this would be much easier if Schneider had not taken his girlfriend on a vacation.” Lydia frowned. “He could carry much bigger boxes than myself or Papito.”

“Hey, I can lift heavy stuff,” Alex protested.

“Yes, but you should not have to! You should save your strength for wooing your future wife.” Lydia patted his face.

“Luckily for us--and Alex’s future wife--none of the boxes are all that heavy,” Penelope said. “And there aren’t too many of them. Now, I really have to go. I’ll see you both tonight.”

****

Absorbed in work and school, Penelope didn’t give their Goodwill donations another thought until Tuesday, on her way out of the hospital. The two boxes she’d packed in her room were gone, concluding that chore.

Or so she thought.

Penelope was digging in her purse for her keys when she saw Schneider striding her way. “Oh, hey! I thought you were gonna be off the grid with Nikki for another couple of days.”

“No, that trip is kind of...over. That whole thing is kind of over.”

“Again?”

Hurt crossed Schneider’s face before he buried it. He was really good at that, she’d learned--mostly from moments when she was the one hurting him. Way to go, Penelope.

“I mean, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Eh, I will be. Eventually. It’s not like we were engaged, right?”

Schneider shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here, though. Nikki may have dumped me for one of the jock dads at St. Bibiana’s, but that doesn’t mean I think you and I should blur the lines on the rebound.”

She stared at the creased blue paper he held up as he continued.

“Not that I’m not flattered, obviously. You��re the most badass woman I know, an amazing mom, anybody would be lucky to--”

Penelope’s field of vision narrowed to the letter in his hand, a letter that she definitely recognized. She didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. She could only hear her heart pounding in her ears, making her wonder if she was about to pass out there, next to her car.

How did Schneider get that? What was happening right now?

“I found it slipped under my door when I got home. And honestly, Pen, if you needed to tell me this stuff, you could have just done it in person--we’ve had enough late night chats that nothing’s really off limits at this point.”

She took a deep breath, trying to focus on a technique that worked for her during panic attacks and after nightmares. Since the moment felt like an actual waking nightmare, slowly counting backwards didn’t help much. He was still there. Waiting.

“Schneider, that letter--it’s not what it looks like, I swear. I don’t want to date you. At all. I wrote it because...”

She was still trying to find the words to explain something much too complicated for a parking lot when she saw motion past Schneider’s left shoulder.

Max was exiting the hospital and heading straight for them, holding a bright white envelope in one hand.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was coming over to say.

Which was good, because Penelope’s mind was not exactly in top condition. It was already a five-alarm fire up in there, and every part of her was screaming I cannot deal with this.

In the fraction of a second she had to consider her options, Penelope acknowledged that the mature response would be to face it now--to explain the situation to her ex-boyfriend and her best friend at the same time.

Or, she decided, as she felt both men’s eyes on her and her palms started to sweat...she could do literally anything else.

Going with her first impulse, Penelope reached up and grabbed Schneider’s shirt with both hands, pulling him toward her. Before Max could get one step closer, she kissed Schneider like her life depended on it.

She couldn’t have explained to anybody why kissing Schneider seemed like a better idea than letting Max think she was still pining over him. Right then, she just needed Max to stay back. To leave them alone.

Did it work? She wondered. She couldn’t check without breaking off the kiss, but the silence seemed promising.

Of course, the quiet only emphasized the situation she was now in. She was kissing Schneider. She was in a hospital parking lot, a few yards away from her ex-boyfriend, kissing Schneider.

Pressed against her, Schneider didn’t react. Not after the initial moment, or several more. He let her kiss him, but he didn’t kiss back. And that was fine, Penelope told herself. That was better.

“Thank you,” she said when she let Schneider go. He stood there, flushed and baffled, looking at her like he had never seen her before.

Though confusion was written all over his face, Schneider nodded. “You’re...welcome?”

Penelope wasn’t willing to push her luck any further. She couldn’t avoid the embarrassment forever, but at least she had managed to postpone it until she got home. She needed time to figure this out.

Without another word, and without glancing back to where Max was probably still holding his own letter, she got into her car and drove home.

****

Her reprieve was brief, not that she’d expected any different. She caught the aroma of dinner as soon as she walked through the door, and barely had time to praise her Mami’s cooking before Schneider arrived.

“Oh, good, Schneider, you are home from your vacación,” Lydia said. “I made enough for you to join us, just in case.”

“Hey,” Alex added from his spot at the table. “You’re back early, right?”

“Yeah, Nikki and I broke up.”

Schneider offered that explanation to Alex, but he was looking at Penelope. She shook her head in response, hoping the tiny movement would go unnoticed by the others. Hoping that Schneider would understand. Not now. Not in front of the family. Please.

His shoulders tensed where he stood, like her silent plea was a blow he had to absorb. But when he finally looked away from her, smiling at Lydia and taking his seat, Penelope knew he would let it go for now. “So you can see why I needed a nice, comforting family dinner this evening.”

“Oh, pobrecito Schneider,” Lydia said, patting his back before she sat down across from him. “You can do better.”

They were waiting for her to settle into her place at the table, but Penelope couldn’t join them until she knew for sure. She headed for her bedroom, straight to the spot where her army duffel would be.

Or where it used to be.

“Mami?” She returned to the table and sat, trying to sound calm. “What happened to my duffel bag?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia said, pouring herself some rum as though her daughter’s world wasn’t spinning out of control in front of her. “Where did you see it last?”

“I keep it in my closet,” Penelope snapped back. “It’s been there for years. Where did I see it last,” she added in a mutter.

“You do not need to take that tone with me,” her Mami scolded her. “I did not touch your ratty old bag. I do not know where it is.”

“Well, I know I didn’t move it, and it’s gone. So can anybody explain to me how it up and disappeared?”

Lydia thought it over. “I suppose...if it was in your closet...it might be at the Goodwill.”

She clamped down even harder on her temper. “Why would it be at the Goodwill?”

“As I said, Lupita, I have done nothing wrong. But your boxes were next to the closet. So if it is missing, that may be why.”

“It was just an old duffel bag, right, Mom?” Alex was halfway through his dinner, but he couldn’t ignore the tension in the room. “You can get a new one.”

“Not everything’s replaceable, Alex. That old bag had a lot of memories attached.” She picked up her fork and tried to focus on her food while her mind reeled. It also had five incredibly personal love letters tucked into the inside pocket. Letters she’d never wanted their subjects to read.

Now Max knew she never got over him, and wanted him back. God, after more than a year, how pathetic he must think she was.

And that didn’t begin to address the other letters. How long until those came back to haunt her, too? What about the man currently watching her while he ate, pretending that he wasn’t? How could she possibly explain any of this to Schneider?

She stabbed at her salad, lost in thought until she was done eating.

Worried she might snap at him next, even Schneider was quiet during the meal. The scraping of utensils against dishes filled the silence until Penelope cleared her plate and went to her bedroom.

Schneider swallowed loudly after Penelope left, but didn’t offer up his usual attempts to paper over the unease that lingered behind her.

Instead it was Lydia who broke the silence. “Lupe hasn’t used any of her old bags in years. I do not understand why she is so upset about this one.”

“Maybe she’s going through menopause,” Alex offered up.

Schneider’s fork clattered loudly onto his plate.

Lydia shook her head. “No, that can’t be the problem, Papito. She is far too young.”

“It can start between the ages of 40 and 50,” Alex argued, ignoring the way Schneider was gaping at him. “Mom’s just inside the window.”

“This is very inappropriate talk,” Lydia scolded him, standing up to clear the rest of the plates.

“Elena wouldn’t stop lecturing me about it, okay? She wanted me to be ready when it happened in case she was moved out already. You know how she never shuts up.”

Schneider left Alex sitting alone to go find Penelope--normally she would be back out with the family after dinner, but if she was going to try this hard to avoid him, she wasn’t giving him much choice.

With Lydia at the sink and Alex’s face in his phone already, Schneider doubted the others would even notice him gone.

He tapped lightly on her door. “Penelope?”

The long silence wasn’t comforting, but eventually he heard a quiet “Come in” and let himself in.

“Hey,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “You know, Max seemed just as confused as me, back at the hospital. He just sort of stared at me, once you drove off, for the longest five seconds in history, and then he left without saying anything.”

“Yeah?” Penelope was looking at the floor more than him, but he could tell she was listening.

“Yeah. I think he wanted to talk to you too. Which made me even more confused. What’s going on?”

A brisk rap on the door sounded before it opened--not giving either of them time to respond.

“Mami.”

“It’s time for dessert,” Lydia told them. “What are you two doing in here?”

Penelope ignored the gossipy insinuation in her tone--she knew better than anyone that it was her Mami’s way of hoping something interesting was about to happen, whether it actually was or not. “We were talking about dessert, actually. I was asking Schneider if he wanted to go with me to get ice cream.”

She raised her eyebrows, hoping he would follow her lead. “What do you say? Dessert run?”

Whatever he was thinking, or feeling, Schneider kept it to himself. “Sure, Pen. Sounds good. My treat.”

“Oh, Schneider, you are such a generous man,” Lydia told him with a hand on his arm--laying it on a little thick even by her usual standards.

“Mami, calm down. It’s ice cream, not new shoes.”

“Lydia, did you want new shoes?” Schneider perked up, and Penelope grabbed him by the arm to pull him past her mom before they could get any ideas.

“She doesn’t need you to buy her shoes. Let’s go.”

Penelope rushed him to the door with one hand on his back, nudging him forward as she opened it.

She was in such a hurry, she almost shoved him directly into Ben--who was standing on the other side, hand raised to knock.

“Oh, hey, Penelope. Is this a bad time?”

#alvareider #one day at a time #odaat #penelope x schneider #to all the men i've loved before #penelope alvarez #schneider #lydia riera #alex alvarez #max ferraro #alvareider fic #odaat fic #my fic

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

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Fic title thing - heart held close to the moon and Neptune

...

...............

Neptune ... Neptune was the Roman god of the sea right? ... Just looked it up and yes he was so-

>:D

FF7

Mer

But rather than EVERYONE being mer or whatever, it’s ONLY the three Soldier Firsts of canon. Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal who have never met any other mer, because Shinra are immoral and terrible and use propaganda to promote the idea that Mer aren’t REALLY just like humans in intelligence and emotional range and soul, they just happen to look human-ish on the top half. And because Mer are seemingly extinct (read: in hiding), they have nobly “Resurrected” the lost line of the “most exotic creatures of the sea” in Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal and claim to be in the process of cloning female Mers to “reintroduce the species”.

Except mer are NOT animals.

Mer are the children of Gaia’s oceans, the pulse of her waves and tides, touched by her moon on high. Mer are MAGIC and they will not be contained.

They escape, by the skin of their teeth and with many bloody scars, helped by the last of descendant of the True Mer (Aerith) who can walk on two legs for a time because of her half-human blood. They flee, out into the wild waters, just the three of them as a pod, rapidly protective of their little Pod Queen Aerith, their little sister in their eyes for all it would doom mer to extinction again. So they swim, up river and through lake and through the sea, and sometimes Aerith stops to visit the human woman who cared for her as a child and to tend the garden on two legs while the other three lounge in the little pond and sing softly together, and it’s ... nice.

Then Aerith meets Zack. Zack who is a cheerful sellsword rather than a Shinra plaything, who still respect the Old Ways as best as an ignorant human can, and Aerith adores him and so despite what they want, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal refrain from dragging him below the waves and eating him for trying to court their sister. But Zack is genuine and not cruel like the other humans they’ve met, he gets along with Elmyra and dotes on Aerith and Angeal ends up taking him under his fin after Zack nearly falls in and downs in the pond because surprise this idiot CAN’T SWIM, and really that is that. They have another human in the pod.

Zack tells them all sorts of stories, of the lands they’ve never seen. Jungles and deserts and icy mountains, and in those stories one name and description comes up a lot, the other, younger sellsword Cloud Strife. A fierce little mountain girl who still swears to the Old Spirits and avoids Fairy Circles and will not set foot on a boat until she’s made a sacrifice to the lost Children of the Sea. He describes his “little buddy” so often during his tales that really, it’s no wonder Sephiroth RECOGNIZES the woman while on a solo hunt, struggling in the water, bubbles escaping her mouth and nose, arms and legs bound from where she’s been THROWN OVERBOARD by pirates stealing the ship she had booked passage on.

Sephiroth screams and the storm screams back. The pirates stand no chance and Sephiroth pays them no more mind as he dives down for Cloud, ripping the ropes apart with his claws, swims her up to the surface and realizes that the storm he just summoned is a PROBLEM. The waves are too high for him to keep the human’s head above the water and she’s already NOT BREATHING and Sephiroth can’t just- UNSUMMON a storm, but this girl is Zack’s friend and Zack is pod which makes THIS ONE pod and Sephiroth-can’t-let-her-die-.

Sephiroth holds her close and sings-sings-sings, struggling against death, screaming to the moon to spare this human, to make her SURVIVE somehow, because Sephiroth has too few people in his life and he cannot afford to lose any of them, even one he has never met before.

And Sephiroth-

Sephiroth was Hojo’s finest creation. He was grown from the blood of the most Ancient mer. The Wild Kin even Aerith’s race of mer feared for their power, their savagery, their ability to wrap up the world in their voice and SHAPE it the way they wanted. Jenova is not an alien virus in this au, oh no, Jenova was The Sea Witch. The most feared and powerful and deadly o the Wild Kin, the last to fall in their war against the much more numerous humans and Cetra mer that had banded together against the Wild Kin and their Sea Witches. Jenova was the one who cursed the Cetra and decimated their numbers, she was the one to freeze the great northern sea mid-motion like a glacier around a great crater.

Jenova is, in a morbid, cloned sense, his mother.

Sephiroth sings.

The world obeys.

The body in his arms changes.

Cloud breathes in water and does not drown.

When Cloud groggily wakes up three days later, it’s to one very frantic Zack hovering over her face, the sky above her head, and the weird sensation of being submerged from the waist down. She remembers being knocked off the ship and sits up in confusion-

Looks down and doesn’t see legs.

The glittering tail of ink black and spiraling ice blue twitches spasmodically under her stare, responding to her desperate attempts to move legs that AREN’T THERE ANYMORE.

Cloud starts screaming and all the glass and quite a bit of nearby stone shatters.

While Zack and Aerith help deal with ... THAT whole mess, Sephiroth lurks guiltily in the nearby river, not daring to enter the pond while Genesis whimsically notes that aside from the ice blue swirls, her tail exact same shade of black as his, so does that mean she’s a full blooded Wild Kin now? Genesis and Angeal aren’t, because they have bright red and bright blue scales with black highlights respectively, sign of Wild Kin blood but not nearly as pure as Sephiroth’s jet black and trademark silver hair and slitted eyes. Angeal slaps Genesis over the head and says there are bigger things to worry about, because SINCE WHEN was any kind of magic strong enough to transform a human into an ACTUAL MER and what do they do now? Sephiroth already tried turning her back, but it didn’t work, because that kind of Song that remakes the world itself can only be used on a person on that large a scale ONCE, so now they’re stuck and how will they explain any of that to Zack’s formerly-human friend.

Sephiroth continues to lurk at the bottom of the river, feeling very guilty. He didn’t mean to do that. He meant to save her, not transform her, and the entire thing tastes too much of Hojo’s lab and his unwanted experiments and talk of using Sephiroth’s blood to create clones or hybrids.

Maybe once Zack and Aerith calm her down she won’t entirely hate him?

Who is he kidding, she’ll probably try to gut him with her bare claws.

(Anyway a sort of Modern-Fantasy AU where Mako is a thing but the SOLDIER program isn’t, Mer are a thing, and Fem!Cloud and Sephiroth end up doing an enemies to lovers slowburn but more in a you-transformed-me-against-my-will-so-I-HATE-YOU to friends to lovers way.)

(Also Hojo tries to do more evil shenanigans and Shinra hopes to conquer the world, but that all gets shut down by the Pod because fun fact you can’t run a wold spanning empire if all your ships keep mysteriously getting sunk. It’s not like you can helicopter EVERYTHING over the water, especially since all air traffic gets rapidly shut down by the mysterious super storms that blow in when they try. Reeve eventually gets accidentally kidnapped by the Pod and converted to their side so he starts looking into non-Lifestream power alternatives and Rufus is on board because honestly there’s nothing like a couple of mer arguing, IN YOUR LANGUAGE on whether they should eat you for your sins to make you rethink your life choices and by extension all your evil father’s life choices.)

(Also also Vincent and Felicia are both experiments by Hojo to see if he could create human-mer hybrids. Felicia is a sea serpent and Vincent sometimes forgets that Legs Are A Thing and so just sighs tiredly on Elmyra’s floor in all his red and black octopi glory. Veld is pulled on board the “lets kill Hojo and reform Shinra” boat after he nearly gets his throat torn out by his long lost daughter only for his long lost Turk partner to tackle her and talk her down from accidental patricide.)

(For reference, Sephiroth is a black beta fish with some silver edging on his fins, Genesis is a red with black stripes lionfish, and Angeal is a long-suffering blue and black lions fish. Aerith turns into a long-finned koi, and discovers quite by accident that if you kiss your human boyfriend enough times he gains the ability to breathe underwater and transform into a mer for a few hours before changing back into a human again.)

(And because I’m on a roll, Nanaki is still a cat-lion-thing, Cait Sith has underwater capabilities, Jesse, Wedge, and Biggs are all incredibly baffled humans who aren’t sure how this is their life now, Tifa would like to know when and how her best friend became a Mer (Cloud: It’s all catfish’s fault. Sephiroth: hey.) Barret is a monstrously overprotective dad and Marlene is the world’s cutest baby mer and Sephiroth would literally destroy the world for her if she asked him too. Genesis would help him. Angeal would just sigh and hold Marlene out of the danger zone.)

#SE asks #byakko4 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #title prompt #Mer!Seph verse

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

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Letters | A Chance Meeting (Twice Over)

Nosdecember day 12 | @neworleansspecial

Teen!au; Sarah and Ava’s struggle to keep in contact

CW: narcissistic abuse, gaslighting, need-panic and PTSD themes from said abuse, drug/alcohol/gambling mention, homophobia

***

Ava,

I know I haven’t answered your texts in a while. By the time you get this it will probably be a couple weeks since I last messaged. I promise I would never ignore you, what happened is out of my control.

Mom and her boyfriend broke up. Since then, she’s been adamant that we forget our trip ever happened. She threw out all our things from South Africa already, including the t-shirts we bought together. She said I can’t text you anymore.

It’s not fair, I know. I tried for a couple weeks to keep in contact through messages, I didn’t want to worry you, but she found out. She takes my phone at night now, she reads all my texts. I’m sorry, Ava; I don’t want to ignore you, I promise.

If this letter gets to you, send one back if you wanna. My friend said you can mail things to her address, she won’t open them, just so my mother doesn’t take them from me. I’ve attached the address and her name too, if you wanna write me back. I understand if you’re upset with me, just know I didn’t mean to cut you off.

I miss you,

Sarah

Sarah did her best to be subtle as she crept down the stairs, purple envelope burning a hole in her pocket. She hoped her mother was asleep so she wouldn’t have to answer any questions. She did have an alibi in mind though, her school bag hanging over one shoulder and library card on the lanyard around her neck. She had long since mastered the art of lying to get out of her mother’s manipulation, which Sarah feared would progress to her becoming a narcissistic liar like the woman who raised her. Still, that was a worry for future Sarah; right now she just wanted to get to the post office.

Luckily she had been asleep, wine glass abandoned on the kitchen counter and ¼ of a bottle left beside the couch. Sarah didn’t want to think about what kind of a mood she would be in when she got back. The drinking wasn’t always a problem, it came and went as boyfriends left or she lost jobs due to her unaddressed issues. Sometimes it was too much wine, other times she turned to marijuana or spending rent money on scratch lottery tickets. Sarah never knew which one of her mother’s coping mechanisms would appear during an episode, she just knew better than to mention it when it happened. The narcissism never left though, that was something Sarah had been accustomed to since before her dad even left the picture.

Nevertheless, she made it out of the house and to the post office. 30 minutes later, Sarah had mailed her letter, though she did have to pay a bit of a ridiculous fee to mail it where she wanted. That was another feat that made her painfully aware of the distance between her and the best friend she hadn’t seen for months.

Three weeks after that, Sarah’s friend pulled her aside at lunch. She pressed a cream coloured envelope into her hand, not saying a word but giving her a soft smile. Sarah didn’t open the letter until she was on the bus ride home, but the fact that Ava had actually responded to her had the other girl giddy all day.

The replying letter was longer than Sarah expected, two pages of Ava saying she was so glad to hear from her. Ava was sorry that Sarah’s mother was being so cruel, stating that she wished things could be different. What got Sarah the most was the lilac scent wafting from the paper, Ava’s favourite perfume. Of course Ava would be the kind of person to spritz her stationary with her signature scent, just as much as she was the person to fold her letter into threes and seal it with a little anatomical heart sticker. It was the little things like that that made Sarah miss her even more, the little quirks that she would always associate with the other girl.

This started a bit of a routine. The letters took about a week to get to Ava and hers took a bit longer to make it to the US, for whatever reason. Their communication was not the greatest, slower and less frequent than either would like, but they made it work for a while. There was one day that Sarah’s friend, their in-between for correspondence, dragged her to her locker. She gave Sarah a teasing look when she passed her the small package along with a letter, saying that her mom had been confused about the mail since it was less conspicuous than usual. Still, it made Sarah’s day and she spent her afternoon in the corner of the library, going over Ava’s words.

The gift had been a dainty silver necklace, the charm attached to it making Sarah smile widely. It was a dopamine molecule, a neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of love. It was also appropriate because a lack of dopamine causes anxiety, which they both knew plagued Sarah greatly. While cheesy, the gift was so Ava and it was the first gift Sarah had received in a while. It made Sarah’s heart ache as much as it made her happy; what she wouldn’t give to hug her best friend at that point.

After putting the necklace on, she reread the letter. There was one portion that made her want to cry, to drop everything and figure out how to book a flight to South Africa even as a minor.

You’re always on my mind Sarah, as much as I’m embarrassed to admit it. Even though we’ve only spent two weeks in person together, I think you might be my favourite person. These last few months of letters have been a blessing and a curse. I miss your voice, your laugh, and I miss staying up until 4 AM just to talk to you. I miss you more than I thought I would and I’m so sorry things turned out this way. If I could, I would bring you here to live with me in a heartbeat. Forget parents and manipulation, you don’t deserve this. I’m worried, Sarah, You’re so far away and I don’t want to lose you. I know it's childish of me to say, but I just want to run away with you.

That, paired with the love signoff etched into the sweet, lilac scented paper, was enough to make Sarah weep. Ava cared about her, a lot, and Sarah couldn’t properly convey how important that was to her. She hadn’t felt truly loved in God knows how long, so the fact that she was so far away from and so cut off from the one person who made her feel special was so frustrating.

She read Ava’s letters over whenever she had bad days. It was her escape from her mother’s constant manipulation and gaslighting; a reminder that someone out there did love Sarah. She let herself get lost in Ava’s words, the scent of her perfume, and the feeling of her necklace under her fingertips. It wasn’t the same, it didn’t heal her like a hug would have, but it was enough in the moment. She didn’t want to admit how many times she had cried over those letters, though the tearstained paper would be indicative enough. She missed Ava so much and she so badly needed to hear her voice, just one more time. Hearing her speak those words, the promises she made, in that low accented tone would have been Sarah’s breaking point. Still, it was the one thing she wanted more than anything.

They exchanged letters for almost six months, to the point where they had their respective postal systems memorized. Over those months, despite everything, they even became closer. At some point, Ava admitted she had feelings for Sarah. Her letter was filled with apologies and promises that it shouldn’t ruin their friendship. Sarah wrote back and shyly admitted her own feelings, in an emotional note that ended up being smudged from tears. They weren’t dating, they never actually said that explicitly, but they knew they loved each other. The contact was so hard, it strained their relationship so much, but it was what both girls needed. As time went on Ava had no qualms with saying she loved her and every time Sarah read those words she felt her heart swell. Ava loved her, she really did. It made Sarah feel like the luckiest girl in the world, as cheesy as it was.

Sarah had just returned home from school, another envelope tucked carefully into her day planner, when her world flipped upside down. Her mother was in her room, reeking of alcohol, and she had Sarah’s hidden shoebox on the bed. All of Ava’s letters had been saved in that box, tucked away in the back of her closet so she could reread them when she needed to feel loved. The letters were strewn across the floor, some ripped to shreds already, and Sarah felt her heart drop.

“What did I say?” Her mother’s bleary eyes focused on her angrily, “Why do you think you can disobey me like this?”

“Mom, please-”

“No, Sarah,” the letter she had in her hands was tossed at her feet, “I don’t need any excuses. You think you own this house and my rules don’t matter? You’re planning to leave me, aren’t you? You’re going to run away to that little bitch and leave me. Just like your father did.”

Sarah was already crying, shaking with panic because it was all too much. Her letters were almost all destroyed, her mother’s anger palpable. It didn’t matter that Sarah knew she was drunk, it didn’t matter that her brain was telling her she was being manipulative and gaslighting her again. Her words stung regardless, the weight of everything crashing down on her. Sarah couldn’t breathe, was already flinching away from the woman who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Her brain was screaming at her to run but all she could do was sob out apologies because fleeing wasn’t an option.

“You’re just as bad as he is, as bad as all of them. You all want to hurt me, after all I’ve done for you? How ungrateful are you, Sarah Reese? Do you even love your mother?”

The fighting went on for what felt like hours. Sarah was beyond terrified, panic overrunning her system as she took every insult and lie her mother threw at her. She watched as she ripped up the remaining letters, tipped Sarah’s backpack upside down and found the one she hadn't even had a chance to read yet. She followed after her begging as she took the scraps of paper to the woodstove in their old kitchen, trying to reason with her even though there was no point. Her mother just sneered at her as she tossed the papers into the fire, shoving them under the burning kindling with the poker.

“Your phone and laptop are mine,” her words were hissed out, “You don’t leave this house for anything but school. That friend of yours who helped you send those disgusting letters? You will never speak to her again, you hear me?”

“Mom,” Sarah sobbed, “Don’t do this to me.”

“Sarah, I’m trying to help you. You don’t need them, none of them are your friends; they will only hurt you. That little Ava bitch doesn’t love you. No one loves you but me, baby; they all lie.”

Sarah’s stomach turned at that, wanting to throw up and scream at the same time. She shook her head fiercely, Ava did love her. She did, she told Sarah so.

“Mom, I love her,” she whispered brokenly, “Please. This isn’t me trying to hurt you. I love her and she says she loves me too.”

“Baby, no. You’re sick; this isn’t okay. You may think this gay thing is normal and okay but it’s not. It’s ruining my little girl and I won’t stand for it. You will stay here with me and that is final, you understand?”

The pet names were said in a sickeningly sweet way and Sarah knew she would never win in this argument. Her mother’s word was law and Sarah had to accept that. She would have to obey or she would get sent to yet another summer camp trying to brainwash her into liking men. The mood change was evidently another manipulation tactic, to make Sarah believe her mother was the only one who did love her. The cutting her off from everyone was one too, it was the same reason Sarah wasn’t allowed to have a job. She had to be completely dependent on her mother; that way she could never run away. It was horrible, made Sarah feel like a prisoner in her own home, but at the same time she was used to it. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t know how she would cope with this anymore.

“Go to your room, Sarah. We’re not speaking of this any longer.”

Sarah rushed back to her room, which was still an absolute disaster. Her things were overturned and broken, her clothes torn out of the dresser and her mattress half off the bed frame. All she could do was sob as she collapsed onto the floor, shaking like a leaf. She didn’t know how to calm down, didn’t know what would happen now. She needed Ava, she needed to hear her voice. Her brain was overrun with her mother’s words, the claim that Ava would never love her and that Sarah’s love was in some way disgusting. She just needed to hear her say it out loud, to promise that she did care about Sarah and her mother was lying.

It was all lies; everything was a lie. Sarah didn’t know what to believe anymore. All she knew was she was suffocating and she couldn’t live like this anymore; not without the girl she loved.

#HI THIS IS SAD IM SORRY #this is what happens when you’re the daughter of a narcissist #Sarah can have some more trauma... as a treat <3 #anyway... this sucks but whatever it’s one in the morning hsjskdk #my aus #my-writing #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #teen!ava #teen!sarah #teen!au #a chance meeting (twice over)#nosdecember #userglow #mutuals #neworleansspecial

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bangcrizpychan · 5 years ago

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Blood Is Not Always Thicker Than Water

☆Pairing: Mafia underboss!S.Coups x Reader

☆Genre: heart-sickening angst, mafia!au, pregnant!Reader au

☆Requested:Yes

☆Word count: 2.2k

⚠WARNINGS: suggestive themes, blood, violence, drug usage, death, swear words, and A MASSIVE EXPLOSION OF ANGST FROM ANGSTVILLE, *read at your own risk*

☆Summary: You were the city Mayor’s daughter, he was a Mafia underboss, a relationship that never should’ve started in the first place. Will you be able to go against all odds?

☞Note: since the request didn’t really specify whether the fic is going to be an angst or fluff, I went full blown ANGST. THIS IS 100% ANGST (╥_╥), so grab a tissue and have an angsty reading♡

You fixed your skin-tight dress and dark red lipstick then looked at your boyfriend, Seungcheol, who smirked at you and eyed you hungrily. You seductively walked towards him, every step making your heart pound with excitement. You have been dating for a year now, but the thrill of having a mafia underboss as a lover when you’re supposed to be an angel to your father’s eyes, who was the city Mayor, still exhilarates you.

You straddled Seungcheol’s lap and attacked his neck, he sighed at your touch and let his hands roam your figure. You grazed your teeth against his soft spot and it earned you a beautiful moan coming from him, oh how you loved the noises he make and you knew that you were the only one that can weaken him like this. You started to unbutton his shirt when a sharp knock interrupted your session.

Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples, “come in,” Jeonghan, a capo, went inside and gave a letter to Seungcheol. “It’s a VIP invitation to Congressman Han Seongsu’s 50th birthday,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Why do I need to go to that old scum’s birthday?” “He is one of our loyal customer, and there will be a transaction on that day to send more of our package to Jeju.” You almost felt bad for Jeonghan, Seungcheol seems to be mean towards him like every time.

“And your it was your father’s orders to you send there,” you rubbed circles on your boyfriend’s chest to soothe him. Seungcheol’s father is the current Mafia boss and Seungcheol is his successor since he’s an only child. “Also, you need a date before going there.” Jeonghan added and shot you a look, He ‘tsked’ and sent Jeonghan away with his hand, who left without saying another word. He took a deep breath and looked at you, a smirk back on his lips.

“So, where were we?” you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “we were starting this part,” you smashed your lips against his and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. His chest rumbled with laughter, “you seem so eager baby, don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

Your tongues played together as you discarded each other’s clothing, ending the night with passion and pleasure filling the air.

—–

You let out a shaky breath when you saw the pregnancy test; two visible lines that seemed to taunt you. You were pregnant, “No, i-it can’t be,” you were sure that you were on pill, so why was this happening?!

When you finished crying in the bathroom, you decided to call your best friend, Seungkwan, to ask for guidance. He agreed to meet you at his apartment so you got ready and headed there as quickly as you could.

When you arrived at his place, you completely broke down in his arms, he whispered comforting things and your ears and soothed your back.

“y/n, what happened?” he asked and handed you a glass of water, you took a sip and explained yourself, “I-I don’t know Seungkwan, we were careful!” you sobbed, Seungkwan knew you had a boyfriend, but he didn’t know what kind of person Seungcheol is. What would he do to you if he finds out?!

“You have to tell your boyfriend, y/n, and your family,” “I know, but I-I’m just scared.” that was a lie, you were completely terrified, you were allegedly a good girl in your family’s eyes, to them, you finished University without any boys bothering you. But most of all, you were terrified of Seungcheol, he loved you, you knew that, but you’ve seen what he was capable of. He had ended someone’s life in front of you before, what if the next person that will stand at the end of his gun is you?

Seungkwan babied you the whole time you were at his place, you watched your favorite shows together and ate a lot of sweets. Your phone beeped in the middle of the show and your blood ran cold when you saw the text.

“come home. Now,” it was from your brother, Joshua. You bid Seungkwan goodbye and went home anxiously. When you arrived at your place, you saw your brother, who was still in his uniform, and your mother sitting in the living room. “What’s going on y/n? Why did your brother drag me here and called for a ‘family meeting’” your mother asked, twirling his diamond ring, almost looking bored.

“I want to know what’s going on as well,” your brother reached out from his pocket and pulled out a plastic, “care to explain what the fuck this is, y/n?!” you flinched at your brother’s voice. He handed the plastic to your mother who then screamed when she pulled out what was inside. Your maids rushed to the living room to see what the commotion was but you stood there still, staring at the pregnancy test that was dropped on the floor.

“How could this happen, y/n??!” your mother cried, the maids brought her tea to calm her nerves but she refused and continued to sob. “what the fuck were you doing in my room?!” you demanded to your brother, tears streaming down your face.

“You think I wouldn’t notice you looking sick and barely eating anything?! You think I wouldn’t see the signs?!” he yelled at you, “Who the fuck is the asshole?!” No, he couldn’t know, he should never know. “Oppa! Please don’t, don��t tell Dad, I beg you” you dropped to your knees and begged your brother. Your mother was stopped sobbing for a second, and thought about rushing to your side but she was too weak to do so.

“Just tell me his fucking name, I can charge him with rape and I’ll cuff that motherfucker myself,” you chanted a series of nos and I’m sorrys. If you weren’t that terrified before, you are now. Your brother is a police officer and if he knew that the father of your unborn child was a mafia underboss, he would definitely kill him.

In the middle of the chaos, you decided to run away, you heard your mother call out your name but you didn’t care, you got into your car and drove as fast as you can. You called Seungcheol and he decided to meet you at the Hangang Bridge.

He lit up your cigarette that was hanging in your lips a little too long. “What happened, sweetheart?” “I got into a fight with my brother,” you sucked some smoke in and slowly blew it out. “Do you want me to take him out?” Seungcheol suggested, which you would’ve laughed at if you didn’t know he was serious, but you knew he could definitely kill your brother. You just scoffed and let the silence took over you.

“Do you love me, Seungcheol?” you asked out of the blue, Seungcheol disposed of his cigarette and took yours off from your mouth. “Of course I do baby, I love you so much,” “Well, what do you think about babies?”

He chuckled and smoked the rest of your cigar, “I mean babies are adorable, but they’re so fucking annoying to look after.” you lowered your head and muttered a single ’oh’. “why? Do you want to make little Seungcheol or little y/n to pester us?” he laughed and cupped your face.

“Because I’m definitely down with the baby-making process,” he said and crashed his lips to yours, you tasted the minty flavor of the cigar and the scene alone made you feel hot. Maybe you could tell him after tomorrow’s event.

—-

You turned a lot of heads when you entered the congressman’s manor, you were wearing a silver long gown that barely covered your breasts, and Seungcheol loved the fact that he can show off your beautiful body and let them know that you were his.

“y/n??” you stopped your conversation with the congressman’s wife and whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Your eyes widened when you saw your father together with your mother. “M-Mom, Dad? What are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here?! You ran away from home and now you’re attending a party?!” your father scolded.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Joshua appeared behind them and then looked at you, “y/n? What are you doing here?” he quickly shooed your parents away to talk to you. As you and your brother started to talk, Seungcheol suddenly appeared at your side.

“Hey baby, who’s this?” You couldn’t believe it, it was the most unfortunate coincidence you’ve ever experienced, your brother had to meet your lover like this. “I’m her brother and you are?” “I’m her boyfriend, it’s nice to meet you bro,” Seungcheol reached his hand out to offer a handshake but your brother only stared at him.

“I know you from somewhere,” your brother’s eyes widened with realization. He pulled you from Seungcheol’s grasp and dragged you across the room. You struggled to remove yourself from him, yelling at him to let you go.

“What the fuck, y/n?! You’re fucking dating a mafia?!” your eyes widened with fear, this cannot be happening right now. “Is he the father of your fucking child?!” he grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed his earpiece, “I need backup right now, I caught sight of a mafia at Congressman Han’s mansion. I need backup. Now!!”

You ran off as he was yelling orders and went to find Seungcheol. You found him conversing with Congressman Han, “Seungcheol! You need to leave! Now!” you yelled and tugged at his arm, he excused himself and turned to you, “What’s going on, y/n?” “My brother, he knew you were gonna have a transaction here. He recognized you and called for backup-”

“Wait, your brother is a fucking police officer?! What the actual fuck y/n?!” he cut you off but you dragged him behind with you. “There’s no time to explain, we need to go, you’re not safe here!” you heard the police sirens and both of you made a run for it. His goons took out their guns and chaos erupted inside the mansion. A couple of officers tailed you but Seungcheol’s goons came and fought them off. However you were both caught in a crossfire and barely managed to reach the abandoned warehouse near the manor.

You helped Seungcheol drag himself to the warehouse, he got hit in so many places just to cover for you. You fell down next to the sacks and groaned in pain, blood seeped through your once silver gown but you ignored your pain and focused on Seungcheol’s wounds.

“Baby, don’t close your eyes, please. Help is on its way, I managed to contact Jeonghan before we got to this warehouse, you just have to stay with me,” you cried and applied pressure to some of his wounds.

Seungcheol coughed up blood and reached up to hold your face, “w-when you were talking a-about babies yesterday, w-were you s-saying that you were pregnant?” you cried and held his hand that was cupping your face. “Yes, I was baby. You’re going to be a Dad, so stay with us. Okay?”

“I’m g-going to be a Dad? I don’t k-know if I’m going to b-be a good one though,” he chuckled. “You are going to be the best Dad in the world, baby.” you cried and let out a small smile.

You didn’t want any of these to happen. You never wanted to be a sister of a policeman and Seungcheol never wished to be an heir to a Mafia boss. All you ever wanted was to be a normal couple that was going to be a family soon.

Seungcheol coughed and grunted in pain, he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I love you y/n, so fucking much. More than my fucking life.” “I love you too, more than anything in this world.” You cried, and pressed your lips against his.

Seungcheol nodded and smiled, then his hand went limp. Silence, aside from the sirens you hear at the distance, it was all just silence. You screamed at the top of your lungs and embraced your lover, you held him like you were holding onto life, he can’t be gone. He can’t leave you behind.

You started to feel pain so you looked down and saw a lot of blood seeping out of you. It turned out that you were hit by more than one bullet and you felt yourself cough up your own blood. Seungcheol was not going to leave you, you were going with him.

You rubbed your belly and sobbed, “I’m sorry, my baby, you didn’t even get the chance to see this world, I didn’t even get the chance to see you.” you groaned in pain as you lied down next to the corpse of your once lover.

You stared at the ceiling of the warehouse, smiling widely and scooting closer to Seungcheol. You felt your eyelids go heavy and you couldn’t hear nor feel anything, anymore. You mentally scoffed, you never thought you were going to die at a horrible place like this; but you were glad of your imminent death, because at least you died in the arms of your one true love.

☞Note: I may or may not have imagined the request too deep and created this chaotic monstrosity. Sorry, I was just feeling too angsty (╥﹏╥)

#seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #kpop angst #kpop imagines #seungcheol #choi seungchol #seungcheol x reader #s.coups #s.coups angst #s.coups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol imagines #s.coups imagines #mafia au #mafia s.coups #bangcrizpychan

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magalidragon · 5 years ago

Text

good kind of madness | a Modern Royals Jonerys AU

Chapter 2 | Teaser #2

**I wasn’t going to tease some more of this until I finished but we lost my family dog last night and I am really depressed. She was 12, had cancer, and it was really fast. 2020 is just total shit. So because I feel like garbage and probably won’t write for a couple days, enjoy this little snippet.**

Excerpt:

Jon closed his eyes, lying on the bed, unmoving. He heard sounds outside, in the corridor, but didn’t get up. Ghost was somewhere around the estate, he liked to run through the woods and had the opportunity to actually hunt, to be a real wolf instead of the pseudo-babysitter he actually was. Or rather, what Rhaegar had wanted him to be, when he allowed Ned to gift Jon the direwolf pup when he was a young boy.

The sound grew louder, echoing on the hardwood, and there was a whoosh and a loud crack, which came from the twelve-foot tall ornate wooden door swinging into the room, with enough force to crack the handle into the wall on the opposite side. He opened his eyes, staring across at his father, who stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, fuming.

Rhaegar Targareyn might be fucking terrifying, but right now Jon didn’t care. He would never hurt him. That would require him to actually care. The King strode into the room and paused, indigo eyes sweeping from one end to the other, observing and calculating. Jon rolled and propped himself up on his elbows, staring straight ahead. Today the King wore all black—shocker—except it was his country attire of black sweater, jeans, and boots. His silver hair had been undone from its usual plait, instead tied from his face in a simple queue.

He finally met his father’s eyes, gray locking onto the indigo. Rhaegar’s lip curled up, smirking. “I did not know what to expect, but I will say I thought there would be a bit more debauchery. Knowing you.”

“Give it a few more hours,” Jon shot back. He wanted to light up a joint in front of Rhaegar, just for that comment alone. Instead, he snatched up his cigarettes and flicked one in between his lips, arching his brows and smirking around it while he picked up the lighter. “The day is still young. Or is it already night? Guess it doesn’t matter.” He lit the smoke, the tip glowing with a puff of his breath and he pursed his lips, streaming smoke straight towards his father, who had not moved a muscle, or even blinked. There were times Jon thought Rhaegar was not even real. He was a reanimated corpse or something. He smirked again, lifting the cigarette back to his lips and drawing his knee up, making it clear to Rhaegar that he had not spent the night alone, the bed clearly once having two occupants. “Can I help you with something, if you aren’t here to lecture me?”

“Get dressed.”

“Why?”

“Because I am your father and I said so.”

Jon squinted, feeling the medication wearing off, the numbness to his limbs and blurriness around his eyes fading. He chuckled. “Like that’s a reason.”

Rhaegar’s nostrils flared, irritated. “How about because I am your bloody king?” he breathed.

“It’s not good, but I suppose it is a reason.”

“Lay off him Rhae.”

They both glanced to the side of the room, where Dany stood in the doorway of the bathroom. She had put on a long purple dressing gown, her silver curls pinned atop her head. Her face was slightly pink and dewy, likely from a quick wash. She moved from the door, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it, crossing her legs primly, her hand reaching to drape over his knee. The look she gave Rhaegar might have been his own reflection. They shared the same steely gaze, able to go minutes without blinking, and their tempers clearly at boiling point.

Jon wondered at what point he could get up and go find some of the Shade of the Evening he’d left in Egg’s bedroom during his last visit. It might not have been good, but at least it was something. He watched the two dragons, amused. “I think Dany’s going to win this one Rhaegar,” he announced.

In fact she did, his father darting his gaze sideways to glare at him. Dany smirked, satisfied. “You both have embarrassed this family,” he whispered. He shook his head slightly, lifting his finger to point at them. “I warned you to knock this off. This silly little relationship.”

“It isn’t silly!” Dany shouted.

It didn’t matter. She could scream on live television she loved him, she could be caught in all kinds of compromising positions, seven hells, they already attended events together hand-in-hand, Davos even claimed that people on the internet were devoted to “shipping” them, whatever that meant. It might have been taboo in some circles, but they were fucking Targaryens. They were above the average person, they did not obey the laws of man, Jon thought, finishing his cigarette.

He shot his father another dark look; he hated Rhaeger. Hated him. Everything that ever went wrong was all because of Rhaegar. “Forget it Dany, you’re talking to the Silver King. Heart as cold as ice. They say I’m the ice to the family’s fire, but they got it wrong.” He dropped to a whisper, eyebrows lifting, lip curling in disgust. “It’s Rhaegar who has no feelings, no emotion.” He chuckled, feeling mean. He reached for Dany, drawing her back to his chest, his fingers grazing over her breast. Rhaegar, if possible, went colder. He cocked his head, going in for the kill. “Right Dad?”

Just as he figured Rhaegar did not say a word or even acknowledge his attempt at getting him to explode. It would be nice to see the fire he claimed to breathe. It just sat inside of him. Others got to see it, Egg when he refused to participate in some stupid charity function or serve as the representative for the Crown. Rhaenys when she had one too many wild parties or threw a dagger at another boyfriend who pissed her off.

It was just Jon who only got the coldness. The pure hatred. It was fine. Jon deserved it. Just like Rhaegar did.

The King lifted his chin, his jaw so sharp it might be able to cut glass. “You are both going to attend the Volantis Triarch gala tonight,” he breathed.

“What?”

“Fuck no!”

They both shouted at the same time, Dany grabbing hold of his arm to prevent him from lurching out of bed, to square off against Rhaegar. Rhaegar chuckled, head cocked again, eyes widening. “Oh yes. You both will attend the gala, you both will be on your very best behavior, representing this family and the generations of Targaryens before you. Neither one of you will even think of looking at each other. I don’t want kisses, hand holding, touching, nothing. I am finding out where this particular leak came from but in the meantime we are going to act as though it was something from the past, the two of you no longer together.”

He seethed. “Dany is the only good thing in this fucked up family, you can’t take her from me.”

To her credit, Dany stayed quiet. She kept her hand on his arm, her steadiness seeping into him. He leaned back against the headboard, unable to look at his father. He might jump up and finish the job two others had tried to do before. “Relax darling,” she whispered, patting lightly. She smiled, long and slow, her violet eyes twinkling. “Rhaegar gets what Rhaegar wants, but he also forgets, so does little sister.”

#jonerys #jonerys au #jonerys fanfic #my fics #fic tease

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