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happy-emmdings · 2 years ago

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Is That Theft?

on AO3

Pairing: Killian Jones/Milah

Summary: Under the influence of her misery, Milah makes a decision to join the pirate crew of a certain young man that makes her feel more alive than anyone ever has. Before Milah and Killian run off together, they plot their deception and prepare a test for Rumplestiltskin.

Word count: 2 258

Author’s note: This turned out very Milah-centric because I really wanted to explore her point of view. Anyway, have some flawed characters making questionable decisions.

*Based on this line Killian says to Belle in 2x11:

“Tell me something, love. When a woman comes to you and begs you to take her away… is that theft?”

Milah didn't sleep a wink the last night she spent in her village. Finally, on the cusp of daybreak, she slipped out from under the covers that just didn't seem to be able to warm her numb bones. There was no life in that hut. There was no home within those walls. Like a siren's call, the wind outside, that blew from the sea, sang of a young pirate captain with ocean eyes and hair as dark as the raven wings of night. The insistent zephyr knew her deepest, darkest desires and the fondness with which her soul warmed in his presence more than by her hearth, the ardency with which she pined for him and the adventurous life they could share, if only...

She couldn't make herself look at her son as she approached the door quietly on tiptoes (quiet as the shadow she was turning into in this household), careful not to wake him or Rumple. She wished she could leave Bae a letter. But she didn't think she could come up with words that would absolve her of what she was about to do. And she didn't think she could be so cruel as to make Rumple read it to him.

She promised herself she would come back for him one day. When he was old enough. He will hate you by then, a tiny voice whispered in her head. But isn't that only a matter of time either way? she asked it bitterly.

She told herself it was better for him this way too. That it was better for him to grow up with one loving father than with two miserable parents that hated each other. What would a child, old enough to read pain, think if he looked into his mother's eyes and saw nothing but hollow misery and desolation? What would it teach him, if he could read the wrinkles carved by tears and the aching, insatiable hunger that rattled her bones when she gazed at the sea? What would he learn about family if he had to watch his mother's heart grow cold and resentful, if he had to watch her suffocate on his father's empty, unconvincing proclamations of love?

You're making excuses, the creak of the door accused her.

They'll barely miss me, she thought as she slipped into the night.

She followed the glow of sunrise over the eastern ocean. Only one lone star still floated in the sky like a single lifeboat on dark waves for her to board and save herself. The horizon was blushing in the east as the day started to wake in pale colors. But it was not a shy blush. It was sun-kissed and sensual, a bold rush of pink. She watched the sky's colors paint the sea to life and she longed to make the glimmering water-surface her mirror. She saw rosy cheeks of a sharp-tongued lady, vibrant and unstoppable as the dawn. A lady... only one man has ever called her that in a way that made her feel like one. She has lost that lady on this land. She hoped to find her on the saline waves.

Her heart found its lively rhythm anew when her tired eyes landed on his ship. The Jolly Roger's hull towered proudly over the small, brooding harbor. The wood groaned quietly as if to greet her. The water that splashed gently against it murmured a sympathetic welcome.

She didn't expect to find him on deck. With his back to her, the morning's increasing light defined his dark silhouette as he gazed at the sea, lost in thought. Perhaps a thought that stole his sleep.

"You're awake," she uttered. Her voice was raspy after her long, silent vigil.

He turned around with a startled expression. But his hand didn't reach for his blade. He had recognized her voice instantly.

"You're here," he whispered with questions with his eyes. A hopeful spark lit up in him. He did such a poor job of trying to conceal it.

"You're not going to make me walk the plank for boarding without permission, are you, Captain?" she smirked.

He mirrored her smile and cocked an eyebrow. And there it was again. She could almost see some kind of burden lift from his shoulders the same way he eased her pain every time they found refuge in each other.

"You have the captain's permission, m'lady. The honor is mine. To what does my ship and I owe the pleasure?" His deep blue eyes surveyed her with curiosity. Hope blended with concern in them as he waited for her confession.

"Take me away, Killian," she whispered.

She crossed the space between them and took his cold hands in hers with the intention to hold them until the chill of the night that still clung to them was expelled from them both. He bore his wide, yearning eyes into her.

"Are you certain, love?" he asked, clearly pushing down his eagerness, not quite daring to believe she meant it.

"Aye, Captain," she nodded. "Let me join your crew."

A small, adorable pant of excitement escaped his lips before they spread into a wide smile. Encouraged by his reaction, she dared reach out her hands to cup his bristly face. They glanced at each other's lips and before they knew it, they collided in a hungry, love-starved kiss.

Eventually, he pulled away, but still held her close. A cloud of worry passed across his features for a moment.

"What of your family?" he asked somberly.

Her lips formed a thin, nervous line. She begged him with her eyes not to ask again.

They'll be better off without me. I can't live like this. I can't, I can't, I can't-

"Take me away. Please," she repeated. Hold me, love me, make me whole, she thought.

His hint of guilt seemed to dissolve in the tears that started to glisten in her eyes. He nodded and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a gentleness no one would expect from a cut-throat vagabond. She knew better.

"Let's trade our nothings for treasures," she whispered with a hungry quiver in her voice. "We can't be robbed if we're the robbers. You hate the crown, so let's bring this kingdom to ruin together. Let's bring the world to its knees so that we never have to bow."

Her eyes were burning and his caught aflame with her spark. She could see her words resonate in him, her hunger, her need to be free and her wanderlust echoed in his breath. He handed her a cutlass and promised that the sea was full of treasures and theirs to roam. And that there was honor among thieves that stole from tyrants. And that the endless ocean was their domain, where the only law was the law of the blade and freedom for all.

This love will be the end of me, she thought. What a magnificent way to go.

But at the same time, she thought This is where I begin.

He was younger than her by almost a decade but he had already seen so much more of the world then her. And something timeless in his forget-me-not eyes suggested that he had already known pain that would suffice for a lifetime. Maybe if they added their broken pieces together, they could make something whole, something beautiful. It sounded so much better to wander and roam endlessly and make the blue unknown her home, than to stay caged and confined homeless in a house.

Killian led her below deck to show her the home he could offer. It was already beginning to feel right. Right enough to help her bury her guilt on this shore, to store it away, safely out of sight and to someday come back and face it. Someday.

"Can we... can we come back for my son, when he's old enough?" she asked uncertainly.

"Aye. Of course, love."

"He'll have his father. He loves him better," she said, trying to convince herself.

"Won't he come looking for you?" Killian frowned at the mention of her husband.

"Ha!" Milah scoffed bitterly. He gave her a pained, sympathetic look.

"Oh, he will," she shook her head resentfully, "when the time comes for chores to be done. But that is as far as he'll care."

She hadn't actually thought about what she would do if Rumple came looking for her. She didn't think she could face him and tell him the truth. She didn't think she could look into his eyes and tell him just how much being with him crushed her spirit. She didn't think he'd actually dare to come search for her on a pirate ship. But now that the thought crossed her mind she began to worry.

"I don't know what I would tell him," she admitted. "I can't- I don't want to tell him..."

"I can pretend to have kidnapped you," Killian proposed. "I am a pirate. No one will question it."

She agreed. It was the perfect plan. Especially because it was guaranteed to be coward-proof. A painful thought poked her mind. If you got kidnapped, no one would save you. No one would even try.

It made her heart grow cold and as hard as stone and a cruel scheme was born in her head. Maybe she'd give him one last chance. Or more likely, she'd give herself the one last proof she needed.

"Killian," she said. He seemed surprised by the darkness that settled in her eyes. "Tell him you kidnapped me. Tell him you want to hurt me. Or tell him you stole me to please your men."

At first he seemed confused, revolted even.

"Because he won't... he won't lift a finger," she explained bitterly.

Understanding passed over his face and he tensed up as a protective anger possessed him. It felt so good for someone to care. She'd never seen someone so enraged on her behalf. It filled her with a sort of selfish satisfaction.

"Are you truly so sure he will not stand up for you?" he asked.

"Watch him give me up without a fight," she said. And so, their web was spun and their test prepared.

When the ship stirred awake and the sailors started making preparations for their departure, Killian introduced Milah to the crew. It was mostly just a formality, because she already knew most of them by name from the evenings, she spent with them in the port tavern. They were a rough, but strangely amiable bunch. They have offered her more acceptance and geniality than any of her neighbors that shunned her for being the deserter's wife.

Killian announced that if she still wanted to set sail with them by the time of their planned departure, she would become a true member of the crew. He ordered that she would be treated with respect and taught all there was to know about their way of life. He also gave them the order to spread a rumor about her kidnapping and to pretend that was the case until they will have sailed away.

"Just... don't hurt him," Milah pleaded with Killian before she hid in the captain's quarters. He promised he wouldn't and that he would tell her if her husband actually put up a fight. She sat and waited, as the boards creaked with footsteps and unintelligible voices rang out from above deck. So far, no sound of steel. She was already quite confident in her prediction of the test's result.

* * *

Truth be told, he enjoyed mocking the trembling man a little too much. He had little patience with cowards, and even less with the one that made the woman, that had captured his heart, so miserable.

"All you have to do is take her," he said, throwing a cutlass in front of the peasant, preceded by his reputation of the man who ran from fights. That reputation stuck to Milah like resin and stained her in the eyes of those close-minded villagers. As if she had to be defined by this whimpering fool, when she could have the power to define herself.

Pure disgust filled him when the older man shook his head with a miserable snivel. Just as Milah predicted, he didn't even pick up the blade. That was all he had to do. But he didn't, as she said, lift a finger.

"A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets," he growled and meant every word.

"Please, sir," Rumplestiltskin's voice cracked with despair, "what am I gonna tell my boy?"

Killian turned around again as he was about to walk away.

"Try the truth," he said plainly. "His father is a coward."

No, he was not going to make Milah waste her life with this craven man who didn't even love her. Because people who loved fought with everything they had, no matter how tipped the scales were, no matter the risk. He had been loved only by a few, but he had watched his brother shield him with his own body to spare him from pain. He knew for certain that when he loved someone, truly loved them, he would put his life on the line without hesitation. There was way too much misery in life already to just go ahead and drown in it when there were brighter shores to reach. He would give Milah what she asked this man to give her and he refused. He would give her a life to love. A pirate's life.

#ouat fanfic #milah ouat #killian jones #millian #millian fanfic #nya writes

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simon-stardust · 4 months ago

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I’ve been having some thoughts lately, so here have my List of Songs that Shouldn’t Have Made It on the Album

This is my personal opinion!! Also all these songs are being judged within their respective albums, not against each other. Some songs are objectively better/worse than others on the list, but that’s not the point here; it’s only if they aren’t as good as the rest of their album :)

- The Crunge, Led Zeppelin: I’d rather just listen to James Brown instead of a couple British guys parroting James Brown

- Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others, The Smiths: you had the PERFECT ALBUM CLOSER and then you go and put this shit????? For fucks sake Morrissey, I don’t know why I thought I could trust you…

- To Noise Making (Sing), Hozier: I know this is blasphemy, and I promise it’s probably the least offensive song on this list; but like, it’s just sort of meh?This is literally the ONLY song in Hoziers immaculate 3-album catalogue that I always skip. Maybe it’s because I know he can do better?? Idk

- San Tropez, Pink Floyd: what is this easy listening dad yacht rock song doing in the middle of my prog album

- Chelsea, Phoebe Bridgers: same thing with Hozier, it’s not bad it’s just not nearly as strong as the rest of the album. It kind of drones on and isn’t super interesting to me

- I’ll Be Your Mirror, VU and Nico: I feel like all of Nico’s songs on this album are too sweet and sappy in a “we have to let the woman sing the naive happy songs so Lou can rant about heroin” sort of way, but this one is the most egregious of them

- Dawn Patrol, Megadeth: *hamster noises*

- Dear God, Avenged Sevenfold: dear god indeed, I didn’t know I was listening to christian metal what the fuck is this

- Getting In Tune, The Who: congratulations, you have figured out the bare essentials of songwriting. Maybe you could just elabor- oh, nope, they’re just going with that. Okay

- Blue Light, Mitski: it feels she just..ran out of interesting things to say? It’s in the way of two slow dancers, so it just feels like killing time tbh

- Batman, The Who: Pete. Be so fucking for real right now.

- China Girl, David Bowie: I hate that it’s actually pretty good…but I refuse to indulge because well. Yikes

- The Secret Life of Arabia, David Bowie: again it’s a good song, just a wierd one to end the album on; I suppose it hints to the travel themes of the next album, but it just doesn’t fit the vibe, especially coming right out of neuköln

- Black Tie White Noise, David Bowie: MR. JONES I TRUSTED YOU. WHY DOES THIS EXIST. AL B SURE????? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????? YOU DONT HAVE TO TRY TO BE COOL AND ANTI RACIST!!!! YOU DONT HAVE TO TRY TO BE ANYTHING!!!! YOU ARE ALREADY EFFORTLESSLY COOL AND TUNED IN TO BLACK ISSUES SINCE YOU STARTED WHO ARE YOU TRYING SO HARD TO PERSUADE????? AND ITS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT THE LA RIOTS ARE YOU SERIOUS I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER POLITICAL COMMENTARY IVE HEARD IT!!!! THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING TRYHARD AND HAM FISTED IWHABSVHWJQNIDIRHRVEVGWUWOODNDIWOWODNDBID anyway you should listen to it it’s so fucking stupid

#I have so many thoughts on black tie white noise #if you couldn’t tell #music

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pacingtonight · 1 year ago

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A simple flyer - Chapter 2

"Class, today and for the next few weeks we will be reading and analysing,

drumroll please." She moved her presentation to the next slide. "John Jones's

Collection of Love poetry!" Valerie's mouth formed into a smirk and her green eyes lit

up. The way her eyes lit up reminded him of the starry night. Please bring your books

out and turn to page 133." Miles and the rest of the class brought out their English books

"The first poem we will be reading is Because I liked you better"

announced Miss Estee. "Max, can you read the first poem? Miles will read the second poem,

The Secret." said Miss Estee. Max stood up slowly. He brushed off the lint of his

blue sweater, his hazel eyes blinked a lot more than usual, and he then ruffled

his light brown hair with dyed dark purple tips.

"Because I liked you better

Than suits a man to say

It irked you, and I promised

To throw the thought away

To put the world between us

We parted, stiff and dry;

'Good-bye,' said you 'forget me'

'I will, no dear, said I" recited Max.

Max sat down and stared intensely at the paper. Miles looked more closely at his

best friend, he saw a tinge of sadness and a bit of a tear forming. Miles didn't

know what to do so he just ignored it and decided to ask Max about it later.

"Now what do you guys think Because I liked you better is about?" inquired Miss Estee. A girl

next to Valerie with dark brown eyes and dyed red hair raised her hand. "Ok Eloise

tell us what you think." "In the poem, the speaker confessed their love to the subject of

their feelings but the subject felt uncomfortable so they parted ways. In my opinion the

subtext tells us that the speaker was gay and in love with a man." answered Eloise. "Thank

you for your answer Eloise. Now Miles please recite the second poem."

"I loved thee, though I told thee not,

Right earlily and long,

Thou wert my joy in every spot

My theme in every song" recited Miles.

"Ok thank you Miles. Now who can tell me about the poem?"ask Miss Estee

Miles sat down quickly and he just started looking at Valerie using the small mirror on

his watch. "I think The Secret is about love. The speaker was in love

with somebody but did not tell them by the time the poem was written. The feelings the

speaker seemed to be very intense."said a short boy with black hair. "Thank you Elliot

for your input. Both of these poems are about unrequited love in a way. We will read

poems about requited love, platonic, unrequited and etc. Now people please turn your books

to page 134 and read Appeal by Anne Bronte all the way to Ode to Aphrodite on page 165.

Please read silently. If you cannot finish it this period, please read it at home"

instructed Miss Estee.

"Hey" Miles whispered to Max."What's wrong?" He questioned. "Nothing's wrong," replied Max.

"Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes." At the mention of his eyes, Max

started to snap his bracelet. "Again, it's nothing." Miles decided to leave it at that.

#originalwork #writing #writers on tumblr #love story #falling in love #coming of age #romance

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rviner · 1 year ago

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"Never thought I'd hear you say that." Rory chuckled, noticing that Lia was as much of a restless soul as everyone else. It felt wrong to be idle when there was so much to be done, so much that could happen or change within the blink of an eye. "But yeah, a few quiet moments are good." Rory nodded, glancing to their surroundings. A talk on a porch step seemed so family like, and almost resembled the many she had back at the Jones ranch. Like everyone, life from back then now existed like snapshots of time. She knew it wasn't true but when Rory thought about the ranch, she could imagine it still standing there. A pot going on the stove, some rumble through the main home of voices and laughter. It was vivid enough to think they could make the long trek back to Georgia and it still be like that. As if everything was just waiting for them as it was. She laughed at the threat, glancing to the dull prod of knuckles into her hand "Ow-ah! Okay, I promise! I'll have like...a cat nap." she sighed, but didn't yank her hand away from the comforting pats from Lia. She only tried to land her hand ontop of the other wolf's so she could deliver a few pats of her own. Listening to Lia's next words made Rory's head tilt but then form a small shake in a no. "I don't think that." she said earnestly but her voice went quieter. "You haven't told anyone that they should be out there looking, so if they do think that about you then they're making up stories in their head." Rory frowned and nudged her elbow softly to Lia's arm. "I think considering everything, you're handling it all a lot better than I could." she nodded, even right down to a pregnancy during the times they lived in. Rory knew if it was her in Lia's shoes, she'd be terrified. And maybe the other woman is, because in many ways they all are. Just simply pretending not to be. Rory mirrored the small smile, knowing that it wasn't the same thing as looking herself but it was the closest thing they could do. "Right. Better than nothing." she said with more hopefulness. "I'm good at...y'know, strategy kinda things too. I was a Runescape girl." she grinned before a louder laugh happened at her cooking and Rory slapped her knees before standing. "I can't even be mad at the truth. But, we still have some of those green teabags because no one else in our cabins likes them so. I can make you one of those?" she offered out both her hands then to help.

'oh god, not yet. otherwise i got all the way down here just to get back up again.' lia laughs but appreciates the helpful arm rory extends for her. the aid is taken quickly in the motion, and lia's hand taps a few times gratefully against rory's hand. 'sides, it's nice to just sit.' she says softer, lest hunter hears her admit the one thing she's been arguing him about relentlessly. well, not just the one thing. studying rory's face as the blond speaks, lia's smirk is knowing and suspicious all at once but she nods and jabs her knuckles into rory's hand like a pretend stab. 'you damn better, aurora hayes. or i'll come find you on your shift and drag you back.' she laughs the empty threat because she knows there's no controlling rory. or any of the women of the pack for that matter, and it's that true fact that makes lia feel less alone. less invisible. humming as she nods in agreement to the statement of everyone being focused, there's no bitterness to the note. she understands, truly. 'y'all probably think i got some...real ego on me, right?' she mumbles, sounding sadder than she means to and pushing a smile across her lips. 'barely even joined and look like i'm expectin' everyone to run around lookin' for wolves none of y'all know. i promise that ain't it.' she's not sure if it's worth mentioning to rory, but she needs to get it off her chest- a lifetime of being misunderstood at play for her sudden show of insecurity. lia sniffs and gives the younger wolf a grateful smile but a reluctant nod, defeat evident in her movements. 'yeah, no harm in tryin'. i can...i can ask some search parties when they're headin' out to look for names. it's better than nothing for sure.' she answers before shaking her head with a more genuine laugh. 'rory, you're a great person but you're not a good cook. so i'm good fixin' my own food.'

#rorychat #rory x lia 001

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years ago

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Party Like it's 1984

Pairing: Neighbor!Steve Harrington x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 3.1k

Summary: You and Steve arrived at the Halloween party separately - him with Nancy, you with Robin and Keith. But when shit goes down with the new kid Billy Hargrove, everything gets a bit mixed up.

Warnings: Underage drinking, Billy Hargrove being an absolute asshole, bullying, fat-shaming, name calling, protective Steve.

Note: This is part of the Neighbor!Steve x Plus Size!Reader AU, but you do not need to read the previous parts to read this one! Takes place during the Halloween episode of season 2. This one's a bit angsty....also ignore Nancy in the gif plz it was the best one I could find :,)

Stranger Things Masterlist

~~~~~~

“This is a bad idea,” you mumbled, shifting in your seat until the buttons of your shirt were no longer pulling open.

Robin turned to you from the passenger seat. “Come on, babe. You promised we could go. Besides, we look hot. Right, Keith?”

Keith muttered something incoherent. “How long do we have to be at this thing again?” he asked.

“Until Tammy Thompson flirts with lady Indiana Jones,” you responded, staring at your reflection in the rearview mirror. Maybe if you pulled your own dark brown fedora, no one would be able to recognize you.

Robin started sputtering in an attempt to form a defense, but eventually just crossed her arms and went silent.

You were right, after all.

When you had agreed to let Robin drag you to this Halloween party, you imagined you could just throw on some witch mask and continue being invisible as you strived to be in the halls of Hawkins High. But then, your horrible, mean, psychotic best friend convinced you to wear matching costumes.

“Why do men get to wear the fun, hot, rogue archeologist outfit?” she had argued while the two of you thrifted for your costume pieces at Goodwill. “We could make it look even better. Sexier.” She winked and you groaned.

Sure. She could. With the cinched waist, the dazzling smile, and the stellar leather jacket she managed to find in her size.

They definitely didn’t have one in yours. So you went with the more casual look, a light brown button up that was a little too tight in some places, the top buttons undone to reveal a white tank top, sleeves rolled up your forearm and threatening to cut off circulation.

It would have been easier to find a large blazer to cover up your body, to hide the way these clothes clung to your skin.

But then you would have dealt with an even worse issue, the sweat. It may have been a cool October evening, but you knew that in a house full of horny, drunk teenagers, you would be standing in a gross, smelly sauna. If you had the blazer, you’d probably have put stains and sweat marks traveling down your back (or even worse, your backside).

So even though both costume choices weren’t ideal, you decided to go with the lesser of two evils.

Still, there were moments when you were getting ready, when you applied the red lipstick and adjusted the fake whip to your waist, that you did feel like a badass heroine. Where you felt….pretty.

The sentiment would usually go away when you turned to see yourself at the “bad” angle in the mirror, and then the dread would return.

That feeling of dread returned as you felt your stomach turn to knots as Keith parked the car and you all got out.

You began your approach to the house, music blaring loud enough to be heard from the end of the street. The yard was in shambles, and there were hoards of people trying to get inside.

Your feet began to slow. “You know, maybe you two should go in. I can just hang out in the car-”

Robin whipped her head around, eyes wide and terrifying. “Y/n, listen to me.” She reached out and grabbed your hand. “You look fucking amazing. Please just come inside. If you aren’t having fun in 20 minutes, we can go, okay? Please?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking between the front door and your best friend.

Finally, you squeezed her hand and nodded. Robin jumped in excitement and pulled you with her as she scurried to the entrance, Keith following behind in his vampire costume.

It was chaos the moment you walked inside. People everywhere, limbs flying all over the place as they yell-sang to the music and danced along. It smelled like cheap beer and smoke and you instantly felt dizzy from the overstimulation.

Your hand tightened around Robin and she turned back with another reassuring smile. “Let’s get a drink, k?”

You swallowed, forcing a smile and nodding. She pulled you along through the moving bodies, some of them bumping into you and making you that much more aware of how much space you took up.

On your journey, your eyes flashed to the left, somehow able to immediately spot Steve as if being pulled to him.

He looked….amazing. The black shirt and blazer hugging his form in the best ways, his hair waving around as he danced, the sunglasses that made him look cool despite wearing them inside…at night.

His smile, which could have lit up the whole room if needed.

Tom Cruise had nothing on Steve Harrington.

Looking at him, you felt instantly at peace, and you felt your own smile creeping up your face.

A cruel, invasive daydream formed in your mind as you watched him. You imagined him turning over and meeting your eye, and him stopping short, completely entranced by you.

You imagined the way he would take off his sunglasses to get a better look, eyes not leaving you as he practically floated over to where you were…hand moving up to graze his knuckles over your skin..

And then you watched his gaze find the figure in front of him, and the smile instantly dropped.

Nancy looked stunning. Her tiny frame bouncing up and down to the music, perfect brown hair tied back.

Steve’s smile widened as he watched her, as did the crack forming in your heart as you watched him.

You made your way to the backyard where the keg was, grimacing as you watched a couple guys holding someone over it for a keg stand, counting and shouting wildly.

Thankfully, there was another keg a few feet away so you didn’t have to get any nearer to that.

The guy manning the keg looked you and Robin up and down, and you felt his gaze linger at your stomach a few seconds longer than the rest of your body. Your arms instinctively shifted to cover it up.

As soon as the drinks were in your hands, you nudged Robin. “Let’s go back inside.

Just then, the guy doing the keg stand was brought back to the ground, wiping his mouth and roaring into the air.

Billy Hargrove. The new kid and apparently the new reigning king of Hawkins High.

A total fucking asshole. Smug, arrogant, a bully. You caught him in his car a few times screaming at his younger sister, or harassing some of the girls.

Billy was trouble, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

That thought entered your mind as soon as his eyes flashed over to you. He puffed his chest out, looked you up and down, then grimaced as he walked away.

“This was a bad idea,” you tried to yell to Robin over the crowd as you walked back inside. “Can we go ho-”

“Oh, there’s Tammy!” Robin exclaimed, totally oblivious to everything happening. She hooked her arm around yours and pulled. “Come on!”

Of course, Tammy was right fucking next to Steve Harrington, making heart eyes at the back of his head as he danced with Nancy.

He finally noticed you when you were about five feet away, you pulling away from Robin and moving to hug the wall.

“Hey!” he said, surprise in his voice as he rested his sunglasses on the top of his head and looked you up and down.

You braced yourself for the same judgment you received from the other two guys this evening. For any sign of a grimace, any disgust in his expression.

His eyes widened, and his smile grew. “You look fucking awesome!”

Your chest swelled. “Really?” you asked, voice inaudible with the music blasting.

“Hell yeah! I love it. Totally badass.”

He started saying something in a quieter voice and it got jumbled through the noise. “What?” you yelled.

Suddenly, he was leaning in, lips inches away from your ear. “If I ever hear word about an ancient, impossible to find treasure, I’m calling you up.”

A smile crept up your face and you nodded. “You got it, Steve.”

Nancy was still dancing, not noticing you, which was fine because you were too distracted by the way Steve’s body turned to face you completely as he leaned back to engage in any small talk. He rested his hands on his hips.

“So?” he started. “What do you think of my look?”

You rolled your eyes, instantly feeling more at ease than you had five minutes ago. “Tom Cruise ain’t got nothing on you.”

His brows raised, a look of….awe? or something painted across his face for a millisecond before he regained composure. He nodded.

“Someone put that on my tombstone,” he responded.

The two of you laughed, you lightly shoving his arm and he leaned into you.

And just like that, the music and loud noise faded around you, and there weren’t any drunk people in costumes, there was no stale scent of beer and cigarettes and weed.

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart, all you could see was the man before you, and all you could smell was the cologne drifting from his neck into your nostrils.

You had hardly ever drank alcohol in your life, so it might have been the few sips of beer you had consumed, but you could have sworn his eyes flickered to your mouth and that he might have leaned forward-

“I’m getting another drink,” Nancy suddenly slurred. Steve whipped his head toward his girlfriend and you followed suit, watching her tiny body stumble away into the crowd.

He groaned, eyes tracking her movements. “I should go with her.” He turned to you with a smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s had way too much. Time to cut her off.”

You nodded. “Good luck.”

Steve stared at you a few moments longer. “You really do look great tonight, Y/n. Not that you don’t always. It’s just…” he shook his head. “Nevermind. I’ll see ya around, okay?”

Another nod. “Sounds good,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment.

You watched him walk away before turning around, noticing Robin leaning against the wall, staring at you in disgust.

You mimicked her expression. “What?”

“What the hell was that?” she accused, standing straight.

“What the hell was what?”

She scoffed, waving her hand out in front of you. “That! You and dumb Harrington practically eye-fucking each other.”

You barked out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.” You took a sip of beer.

“Am not! You’re like, totally in love with him, aren’t you?”

And then you were choking on your sip of beer, coughing and sputtering.

Robin groaned. “Y/n, come on! Him? That dipshit sucks!”

“He does not and you know that! Remember when he forced Tommy to switch lockers with him so that I stopped getting harassed? He also drives me to school everyday!”

She snapped her fingers, eyes widening in an aha! moment. “But Keith has offered to drive you and you keep saying no! Because you want your Harrington time!”

You jumped forward, covering her mouth with your hand. “Robin. Stop.”

Robin licked your hand and you yelped.

“Listen,” she said when you finally pulled your hand away, voice quieter, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay? So if your heart wants that clown, then fine. But if he does one thing to upset you, his ass is grass.”

You nodded, expression softening at the sweet yet somewhat terrifying sentiment. “I love you, too.”

She smiled. “Come on, let’s get another drink.”

Instead of going outside, Robin led you to the kitchen where there was a massive punch bowl. The fumes it gave off as you stood over it seemed dangerous.

Hell, maybe this would help you loosen up a bit.

Just as you were about to head back to your spot, Robin froze, eyes following Tammy Thomspon as she approached the punch bowl.

You looked over to her and smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good luck, bud.”

She swallowed and squeezed your hand back before you let go and walked back to your safe space by the wall.

You did your best to try to make your body as small as possible, not wanting people to bump into the fat girl and have yet another excuse to judge you and your larger body.

You did your best, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment that Billy Hargrove barrelled across the room, knocking straight into you and spilling your punch all over your button up.

Billy scrunched his face staring at you. “Watch it, cow.”

You stood there, a mixture of shock and embarrassment making it impossible for you to move. You wished that you could just disintegrate into the floor and never be seen here again-

“The fuck did you just call her, Hargrove?” You turned your head to the right to see Steve storming over, eyes ignited with rage. He stopped once he was between you and Billy.

Billy smirked. “Look, King Steve, it’s not my fault. Some things are just too big to ignore.”

Wow, this kid sure fucking knew how to get you right where it hurt.

Steve took another step forward, and you watched his hands clenched into fists. When he spoke next, his voice was low, threatening. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that or I swear to God-”

Billy let out a low, antagonizing chuckle as he took a swig of beer. “Damn Harrington. I thought you preferred skim milk,” his eyes flickered over to Nancy stumbling out of the house in Jonathan Byers’s arms, then over to meet yours, “not heavy cream.”

Steve lunged at Billy, right arm swinging back to ready a punch.

You grabbed said arm, pulling him back.

“Steve, stop,” you whispered, hand clinging to him. “Ignore him. It’s not worth it.”

He looked at you in horror. “What the hell does that mean?”

You shook your head, forcing the tears back. “Just…please. I don’t want to deal with this.”

Steve stared at you for a long moment, chest heaving up and down. From the corner of your eye, you watched Billy saunter away, smug smile growing.

Finally, he relaxed, and you let go of his arm as he moved to take your hand. “Come on,” he said softly. “I’ll take you home.”

Another shake of your head. “It’s fine. Robin and Keith can take me.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked up to scan the room until he found Robin in the kitchen. He looked at you, eyes wide with concern. “Wait here one moment.”

You watched as he walked over to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Her eyes went to you, and when she looked back at Steve she glared, mumbling something in response.

All Steve did was nod, then walked back to you.

“Let’s go, Y/n.” His hand went back to yours, and you were too tired to keep fighting.

He kept hold of your hand until you got to the maroon BMW. He walked over to the trunk and pulled out an oversized Hawkins High Basketball sweatshirt, handing it to you.

You nodded in thanks, silently praying that it would fit.

“You can change in the car,” he murmured, walking over to the passenger side to open the door for you.

Another nod from you and you stepped in. He waited a few seconds - back turned to you as he blocked your window from any onlookers - and then moved over to the driver’s side.

It was silent the entire ride home, you staring outside the window, Billy’s words playing in an endless loop in your mind.

The car pulled to a stop outside your house, Steve’s movements slow as he turned the ignition off, bringing his hands back to the wheel.

Had they been clenched around it that tightly this whole time?

Silence.

“Is that really how you feel?” he finally asked, looking over to you in such a pained expression that you felt your heart break.

“What?” you whispered.

“That you’re not worth it? That you don’t deserve having someone beat the shit out of some asshole who thinks they can say such awful, fucking untrue things to you?”

Your bottom lip trembled. “Steve..”

“No, Y/n, listen.” His hands somehow clenched the steering wheel even more tightly. “If anyone thinks of being a dick to you ever again, I’m swinging. You can try to act like it doesn’t hurt you or that you don’t care, but I do. And I’m not letting it slide.”

A tear fell down your cheek and you smiled.

“Steve Harrington, my stubborn knight in shining armor.”

Steve laughed, his body relaxing and he shook his head. “What can I say?” His eyes met yours and your breath hitched from the intensity of them. “You’re worth protecting.”

You swallowed, suddenly dizzy from the sincerity in this voice. If only you had managed to drink more of that toxic punch to give yourself more liquid courage to be in this moment.

But alas, you hadn’t so you were too sober to delve any further into this conversation.

“Is Nancy okay?” you asked, changing the subject back to his girlfriend.

The light left Steve’s eyes and he sighed. “I don’t know. She had a lot to drink and sort of freaked out.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook her head. “She’s…she’s been through a lot lately. I try to help her the best I can, but sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever be enough.”

“Hey,” you said, hand reaching out to take his. “You’re always enough, Steve. More than enough. Nancy seems great, but if she can’t see that, then she honestly doesn’t deserve you.”

Shit….maybe I’ve had more to drink than I thought.

Steve looked down at your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles once before he looked back at you.

“Nanc….she said something tonight. About you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you blinked a few times. “What did she say?”

Steve stared at you, and you could almost see a million little gears turning in his head as he thought of the next thing to say.

Finally, he released your hand, eyes leaving yours. “She said you looked really great tonight. Incredible, actually.”

Your shoulders relaxed, though you didn’t realize how tense they had gotten in those few seconds of silence. “Oh…that was really nice of her.”

“She meant it,” he mumbled. His hand went back to the ignition. “I should get going.”

You nodded, reaching for the handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded. “Anytime.”

You forced yourself not to look back as you approached the front door to your hours, which meant you missed how Steve’s eyes didn’t leave you until you were safely inside, the hand once again tightening around the steering wheel before he drove home.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! :)

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #neighbor!steve harrington #neighbor!steve harrington x plus size!reader #Steve harrington #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington fic #Steve harrington angst #protective Steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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cloveroctobers · 2 years ago

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j.r enemies to lovers trope plsss? with a lot of banter and like tension and it's like something just snaps and j.r and reader eventually get together 😩 there's like zero j.r fics that man is fine

A/N: it was hard for me to even imagine having that smiley beautiful man be a enemy (besides the whole downfall with his last ex but) to anyone but I’m always down for a challenge! Also it’s still spooky season for me until nov. 25th around these parts so ofc that was added here. after watching the best episode of the season so far tonight, I’m more inspired to write this little thing! There’s never enough JR in these episodes!

Prompt: 25. “Wanna hear a scary story?” + 27. “Show me your haul.”

JR x Reader — Oct./fall prompts

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“Wanna hear a scary story?” JR grunted from his spot, lounging in front of one of the many sofa’s in Keisha’s house.

A roll of your eyes was instant, you couldn’t help it as the cocoa skinned boy tried to keep this event going.

You weren’t even sure who’s idea this was, Halloween was still at least two weeks away but if there was any time to party, everybody was linking up. It so happened to be at Keisha’s house, which was usually one of the three options, off campus since her dad ventured off to a weekend getaway that she never seemed to want to partake in and honestly…you were 50% ready to back out.

“Not uh,” Simone sassed you on FaceTime, “you’ve been flaking on us to do whatever it is the last two times. Your ass is coming, even if I have to drag you and you know I’ll do it.”

Scoffing you stepped back into frame after digging in your wardrobe for some loungewear, “yeah, I’m only flaking because I need to keep these grades up after getting C’s on those last two pop quizzes in PSYCH.”

“Yet…weren’t you and Nate out at the dollar store or was it homegoods…the other day?”

Twisting your lips you glanced off to the side making Simone laugh at your expression.

She got you there, you couldn’t say a damn thing about it, and your best friend knew it.

“Whatever,” you huffed wrapping your frame in your Sherpa before you plopped down at your desk, “who’s gonna be there?”

“Does it matter?”

A deadpanned look was your face as you halted reaching for a gel pen, “you know it does because I might be down to catch my first charge with you know who.”

Simone laughed, “girl! I still can’t believe you dislike JR…it just doesn’t make sense. I mean I get it but y’all just need to get up underneath each other and call it a day.”

Gagging you held onto your neck mockingly, “I rather be buried alive with nothing but Shawn mendes wailing in my ears on repeat.”

“Oh, not Shawn mendes.”

“It’s just y/n? I thought someone was being strangled.” You heard Lando comment, his head brushing against Simone’s as he peered at her screen.

Waving at the new addition to the friend group you breathed out a small laugh, “thanks for your concern! Simone, if that thing is there you can count me out.”

“I mean ask yourself this question, why wouldn’t JR be there? He’s our friend?”

Pressing your chin into the palm of your hand you placed a sweet smile on your lips, “Really? I thought he that shall not be named would be condemned by a priest already.”

Lando shared a snort with Simone, the two mirroring a look that you didn’t particularly like.

“It’ll be my duty to keep you two far away from each other, I promise.” Lando spoke after a moment while Simone continued staring at him in surprise.

Letting out a long breath you replied, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but lando…if I have your word for tomorrow night, then you’ll definitely get points in my friendship book.”

Lando raised his fist, glancing back at Simone who was fighting back a smile, “See? I think your friend likes me better than you now.”

Simone cackled, “good luck trying to keep that promise once JR is lit off that brown.” She snatched her phone back to focus on herself, “glad you decided to come around sis! You could use a night of freedom with your besties…minus one.” She corrected noticing your lips prying apart to argue.

You hated when any of your friends were right and you had a different perspective. Drunk JR was one of the reasons why you didn’t like him and he knew that. He also didn’t like how judgmental it made you seem, since he strongly believed his actions shouldn’t be held against him when he’s under the influence.

So why were you locked in one of Keisha’s extra rooms with this dude you didn’t like? He was lounging on his back, bourbon bottle cradled to his chest as he asked you this question.

It was probably 11:30pm and the music was still thriving, if you stood still long enough you could feel the bass vibrating against your bare feet. However you couldn’t stand still because you did not want to stay in this room with JR any longer. No matter how many knocks on the door and jingling the knob, you were not getting out of this lounge room? Any time soon.

“I’m living a scary story right now being in the same space as you, JR.” You muttered, spinning to press your back against the door.

JR chuckled, “the only jumpscare I see here is you, girl.”

“Excuse me?”

JR held his free hand out, “I’m only saying that ‘cause of that stank ass attitude you spreading around this room. You should be thrilled that you’re here with me, this bottle, and the music at our feet. That’s a good time if you ask me.”

The audacity of this man.

“Like I said, I’m experiencing a scary story right now and it’s getting worse the longer I’m looking at you.” You sent a middle finger to JR who laughed once more, his head lolling before he slowly pushed himself up to rest on his elbow.

And of course, he took a swing, wincing before he tapped against his chest as it slowly went down, his signature necklaces shifting as he did so.

“My mother told me since I was a kid that I should be in a museum…I’m a true work of art and it didn’t take me long to realize it my damn self,” JR was confident, “and some people are late bloomers so I know you’ll come to terms with my good looks soon.”

The wink he sent you made you shake your head.

“You’re unbelievable,” you hissed, “you can have these other girls here fooled and thinking you’re this special, one of a kind dude but I know what you are.”

“And what exactly is that, hm?” JR pressed, “it seems like you got it all figured out; better than I do, so go ahead and say it.”

“You’re an asshole or a asswipe,” you grinned, “I’ll let you pick which one you like best.”

“And you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” His brows were slightly furrowed.

“So I’ve been told.”

JR moved his body so that it was sitting back against the couch. He stared down at the bottle before taking another swing then he placed it to the side.

“…what’s your real issue with me, y/n?” JR breathed as he looked up and over at you through his lengthy lashes, “I think it’s time we just hash it out since we don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here for.”

“Don’t you have your phone?” You whined, not wanting to do this as you began massaging the nagging feeling that was beginning to start in between your brows.

JR hiccuped, covering it with his fist before he answered, “yeah…Damon’s got it. Can’t tell you why though. Where’s yours?”

“Dead.” You wiggled it in the air followed by some silence along with a nod of JR’s head.

“So…we doing this or what?” JR asked, “We’re in the same friend group with other mutual friends and we see a lot of each other so I’m taking—mostly everybody’s advice and attempting to get this over with.”

You crossed your arms at your spot from in front of the door, slowly sliding down to rest there.

So JR was talking to other people about you?

For what exactly?

“I think we should take a nap instead, you more so than me,” you mentioned, “and by the time we wake up, we’ll go back to staying out of each other’s way.”

JR blinked, “despite what your preconceptions of me are…I’m not drunk and can hold a decent conversation with you. It’s you that’s giving scared energy.”

Slits were in your eyes as he said this to you.

“Scared?” You repeated as JR met your eyes, followed by raised brows in response, “you cant even handle me.”

JR declared, “if I can handle this bottle all by myself with no chaser…I can most definitely handle your stank behind.”

Breathing out a small laugh you broke eye contact for a moment, knowing JR was probably smirking to himself that he got you to lower your walls for a few.

It was exhausting constantly beefing with someone. Yet you had your reasons and found yourself moving from the door to sit beside JR and snatching the bottle yourself. JR was impressed as you took the bourbon with a much too big of a shot and began coughing once you remembered to breathe.

JR reached out to pat your back as you held onto your neck.

“I forgot I’m not a bourbon girl,” you wheezed making JR laugh at you, reaching with his free hand to put the bottle to the side and out of your reach.

“Took it like a champ.”

“Better believe it,” you deeply inhaled before you got comfortable along the edge of the cushions.

JR cleared his throat, folding his hands in front of him as he thought about his next words carefully.

“I know what my issue with you is,” JR started, “we first met at one of my weak moments and it felt like you were still trying to make me be that all that time. Even when I tried to make a fresh start with you, realizing you were friends with everybody else it still felt like you were putting me beneath you and I’m not beneath anybody. I’m your equal.”

You received that like another shot of bourbon.

So you said, “And when you tried to gain a fresh start with me I was going through my own little moment. I was dismissive—

“And I didn’t possibly think something was going on—we didnt know each other to know that side of each other yet. I also assumed you had this permanent attitude, like you didn’t want to be bothered.” JR filled in, “and we already got one ice queen in the group, didn’t think we had two.”

Lightly laughing you knew what that meant, although JR and Thea seemed to get along quite well with her dating his baby brother. He still jokingly called her so when Thea was in fact being mean.

You added, “…Well you were boasting about your sneaky links recently so that also made me dislike you even more.”

“Why?” JR questioned, “I like to have fun.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, “it’s just irritating not only seeing but hearing about you when I’m trying to get my work done in class.”

JR rubbed at his goatee smiling to himself, “I know I do my thang but who was talking about me in class? Was it a girl named raven?”

A shove to his shoulder made JR’s reflexes slightly delayed as his ego kicked in a bit. He leaned on his fingertips to glance at you, who was shaking your head.

“What? A brotha can’t ask? I like to be organized.”

A look of disgust appeared on your features, “You’re sick!”

“Don’t be jealous baby.”

“Baby?!” You felt your head pushing away from your neck, which made the smile lines on JR’s cheek appear before he busted out laughing.

He carefully reached for your chin trying to push your head back, “relax…we don’t need you walking around here like the hunchback of notre dame, do we?”

Scoffing you plucked JR’s hand from your face.

“Keep your hands to yourself, asswipe. I don’t know where those hands have been.”

That only made the brown-skinned man more annoying as he decided to toss an arm across your shoulders. “I take pride in my hygiene, you don’t got to worry. But I like where they’re now.”

Daring a look to meet his dark pretty eyes with a slight sparkle in them, you met his gaze and you felt like your body was on fire. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think JR was physically attractive. You’ve seen him around on campus before you realized you had similar friends and of course at frat parties but seeing him on the step team, commanding a crowd kinda did something for you…yet the two of you did not mesh due to assumptions on both ends.

“If you think—

You started.

Instantly JR replied, “I don’t.”

Leaving you to be the first to insinuate a kiss that was almost bruising. JR was following your lead, arm still tossed over your shoulder, his fingertips caressing your jawline before resting on your throat as your lips fought against each other’s.

Somehow his body was on top of yours, trying to get as close as you should have been long ago. With his hand on your thigh and your thigh on his waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth to get more of you. You almost forgot what breathing was like when JR carried his kisses over to your neck, taking in all of you and your scent. He raised up after placing open-mouth kisses against your melanin, taking in the sight of you panting.

He beamed at you, his white teeth shining as he did so. The hand that held onto your thigh slid down it and up your ribbed orange skirt making your breathing hitch.

“Need something else to taste?” You boldly asked, through half lidded eyes.

His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he massaged your upper skin, “I got you.”

The music drowned out the actions that took place between you and JR that night, thankfully.

“I’m glad we got to know each other better.” JR chuckled as you lay with your back to him.

Shushing the man over your shoulder, your hand reached out to the plastic bag underneath and through the couch. Sitting up now, you walked over JR, with his Jean jacket draped across your shoulders to peek beside the couch.

Laughing in disbelief, you picked up the bag and plopped down in front of JR who watched you in curiosity.

“What’s that?”

“This is what I was looking for when I came up here.” You wiggled the bag as JR got a glance of what’s in the bag, “Nate accidentally took one of my decoration bags and left it here…so she says.”

JR glanced off to the side with a smirk playing on his lips and he had a feeling you’d eventually catch on (if you haven’t) to their friend’s bright idea. “Show me your haul then.”

You actually bounced in your seat in excitement which JR found cute. His hand slid back to rest on your thigh while you leaned forward, gripping his goatee to place a kiss on his lips suddenly blabbing about the items.

With his cheek resting in the palm of his hand watching you adoringly, JR didn’t take you as a Halloween lover but he didn’t mind a good chase when it comes to you.

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Continue along with my fall anthology series here

#all american #all american cw #all american: homecoming #all american homecoming cw #fall prompts #jessie raymond #jessie raymond jr #jessie ‘jr’ raymond #Jessie raymond jr x reader #jr x reader #jr raymond x reader #simone hicks #Orlando Johnson #lando johnson #limone #keisha mccalla #nathaniel hardin #Thea mays #damon sims

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saedii-gilwraeth-simp · 2 years ago

Text

Finlett brainrot set in idk gimme a sec.

*5 years post AE*

Fin and Scarlett were at Yule dinner with his parents and closest siblings when the subject came up. Right as Scarlett turned to laugh at a story his sister was saying, his mother put her wine down and rested her chin on her hands and turned to Fin. She awkwardly looks to Scarlett and Fin knows he won’t like what’s about to come out of her mouth.

“So sweetheart, plenty of the girls around here were wondering whether you were going to start looking at a second wife?” Fin paused, wine halfway to his lips, his eyebrows furrowing. The rest of the table had quietened and his mother looks like she would rather be anywhere else.

“Why were they wondering that, mum?”

“A few other parents mentioned that well, you know, you have a first wife and you’ve been married for a few months now so that’s usually when our men start searching again. Plus, since all that Ra’haam stuff, you’ve been an excellent catch. Every girl likes a hero.” His mother explains and Fin mulls the words for a minute before leaning back in his chair and sipping his wine before wrapping his arm around the back of Scarlett’s chair.

“Mum, tell these girls that I am a catch, but I have already been well and truly caught,” he turns to grin at his wife, who snorts a small laugh and runs a hand over his cheek affectionately and his mother knows well enough to drop it.

“So, you’re a catch to Betraskan girls?” Scarlett asks as he passes her to turn down the sheets on their bed. He turns to her but she hasn’t looked away from where she is going through her nightly skincare routine. He shrugs and turns back to their bed.

“I guess. Not really interested though.”

“Are you sure? It’s okay, if you are, y’know?” he looks back at her for that and leans against one of the posts of their bed.

“I thought you were the type not to share?” she shrugs.

“I’m not, but, it’s your culture and I don’t want to stand in the way of that if you wanted more than just little ol’ me,” she shares and he blinks once, then again.

“Are you on drugs?” he asks, which does make her turn to face him, brows furrowed.

“What- no- why would I be on drugs?” Scarlett sputters.

“I don’t know, it’s the only logical explanation to you asking me that question,” he says before catching the raised eyebrow she is throwing his way.

“No, it’s not,” she says, before turning back to the mirror. Fin takes a breath and goes and sits beside her, taking her hand in both of his and kissing.

“Okay, it’s not strange of you to ask and I’m sorry for accusing you of being drugged. But a few things you need to know. First, I do not want to marry some random Betraskan girl just for the sake of having more wives, if I wanted to do that I would have already said yes to the ones who asked. Second, Betraskan’s start marrying at twenty so unless you’re suddenly not wife number one, you can assume I haven’t been interested and won’t be again. Third, Betraskan’s get married so many time because we have low birth and high infertility rates so it’s better to play the field for the species’ survival. You and I have already established we want a big family and if the rate we get caught by our friends is any indication, I don’t see procreating as a problem for us,” he explains and she snorts at the last point. He kisses her hand again.

“Fifth, and objectively the most important, is that you miscalculate when you refer to yourself so derisively. You are my sun and stars and my need for you takes up so much space in me that I barely have room for our friends, let alone anyone else,” he says softly, brushing a piece of hair away from where it obscured her face and kissing her cheek, smiling when she blushes. “You’re the only one for me and you always have been, okay? Screw what culture says, you’re stuck with me, Scarlett Jones-De Seel,” he promises and smiles when she leans into him.

“Okay, good. You’re stuck with me as well,” he grins and kisses her, her jaw fitting perfectly in his hand.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, bed?” she nods and stands, letting him hug her and stagger with her towards the bed, which makes her giggle.

It’s only when they’re getting into bed that she processes part of his spiel.

“Wait, who else has asked for you to marry them and when?” she asks and he shrugs.

“Just a few girls from the academy when it first got reopened. No one worth bringing up,” he says.

“How many is a few?” she asks and he frowns, thinking and counting on his fingers.

“Six or seven,” he says and her eyes widen as she processes but then to his surprise, she smiles. “What?”

“The six or seven girls that wanted you couldn’t have you because of me. For some reason that pleases me,” she says, lying down. He grins and rolls to press her into the mattress with his body.

“Well, you know how much I love to please you,�� he says, before claiming her lips with his own. He relished in the tiny little groan she gave and the way her finger grasped the locks of his hair.

idk couldn’t get this idea out of my head *peace*

#aurora cycle #fin de karran de seel #scarlett jones

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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Hi!

It's the anon of the Remus knockout fic. Could you write a mirror fic?

Yep! For anyone who is curious: a mirror fic is when you take the premise of one fic, then translate it to a different character with minor alterations. This one has the same theme as Knockout, where Sirius was knocked unconscious after a bad hit. This is also the first half-and-half commentary fic I’ve ever written!

SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for injury, minor blood, fighting, and unconsciousness

“Lee, are you seeing this?” Frank asked, excitement building in his voice.

“I am, Frank! There’s a melee on the ice—it looks like the Lions and Snakes have finally let their cork pop after that dirty check on Lions captain Sirius Black! Oh, what a hit on Malfoy by O’Hara! That’ll leave a mark,” Lee laughed. Several whistles blew, loud and shrill over the roaring fans. “Let’s get a playba—wait. Hang on a second, Frank, is that—?”

“There’s a player down,” Frank confirmed, sobering immediately. “Lee, I think that’s Lupin, but he’s not moving.”

“Black is waving medics over and it looks like the Lions have put their fists away for the moment. Snape tries to start something again, but—oh, shut down by the refs. Right to the bench for him.” They fell quiet as another person hurried onto the ice. “That’s Hestia Jones, Gryffindor’s newest addition to the training team. Lupin always speaks highly of her, so he should be in good hands.”

Noise rippled over the stadium after a period of suspended silence. “Is he moving? He is! Lupin’s conscious again, and nobody is calling for a stretcher, which is a great sign.” Frank paused for a moment as Hestia and Sirius helped pull him upright. “And Lupin’s heading toward the locker room with about half the team on his heels, mostly under his own power.”

“I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief after that,” Lee said. “I don’t know about you, but I never like seeing fights go bad. How do you think it happened?”

“Let’s take a look.” The jumbotron picked up just after number 8 on the Snakes collided with Sirius in a late hit, nearly knocking his helmet clean off; in mere seconds, the two teams were on each other in a pack of fury. Remus went after number 8, one of the enforcers—they tussled for a moment before a hard hit from his opponent knocked him flat on the ice.

“Lupin’s fiery, but he was well out of his weight class there,” Lee said, shaking his head. “It seems like no permanent damage was done, though. We’ve got enough Lions and Snakes in the boxes that both teams are going to their second strings, Frank! Back to you!”

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

Sirius’ heart pounded in his ears as they headed off the ice, moving as slow as possible to avoid damaging Remus on the off-chance something serious had happened. Hestia’s arm was a steel bar around his lower back; Talker, James, and Leo flanked them until they reached the boards, and each of the Lions put a gentle hand on Remus’ back when he passed them.

“I’m alright,” Remus said as they stepped into the tunnel, his head drooping forward. “ ‘m okay.”

“Can you help him get his pads off?” Hestia asked quietly, finally making eye contact with Sirius while they helped him sit on the PT table.

He nodded and gently guided Remus’ hands away from the straps and buckles, undoing them from muscle memory as he kept a careful eye out for anything they may have missed. Remus half-smiled, though more pain had overtaken the dizziness. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Sirius winced at his voice crack, but removed the heavy pads without missing a beat. “How’re you feeling?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder. “Hurts. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. Can you call my mom?”

“They’ll be here soon, I bet.”

“Did you see them?”

“Earlier, yeah. They’ve got seats in the middle.”

Hestia tapped Sirius’ hip and he reluctantly moved aside to let her run through the concussion protocol, though he didn’t let go of Remus’ hand and grabbed a nearby paper towel to clean up some of the blood on his lip. “You look good to me,” Hestia said after a few minutes. “A little banged up, but nothing scary. Get some rest and water, and you’ll be good as new.”

The paper covering the table crinkled as Sirius sat down, rubbing small circles on Remus’ lower back. “Do you want to stay here or head back to the bench?”

He made a face. “Stay here, I think. I’m kind of wobbly.”

“I’ll grab your water and be right back, okay?”

Remus nuzzled Sirius’ collarbone with a sigh, then kissed his cheek. “Thanks, hon.”

As soon as Sirius was out of the PT room, he leaned against the wall and blew out a shaky breath, running both hands through his hair. He had been too preoccupied with recovering from the late hit and shoving Snape to stop Remus from engaging with the Snakes’ enforcer; all he could do was watch as they traded one, two, three hits before Remus dropped. Dropped like a stone, and took Sirius’ heart with him.

Nobody else noticed at firs—both teams were a brawling wreck at that point, and for all of his hard work Remus was still one of the smaller guys out there. It was a miracle Hestia had even heard him calling for a medic as he gripped Remus’ hand and fumbled through hoarse pleas for him to open his eyes. He had been so pale when Sirius pulled his helmet off, save for the blossoming reddish-purple mark across one side of his face.

Hestia had let him stay while she worked, speaking clipped and clear by the side of Remus’ head until he mumbled “hear you” and “hurts”. It took another half-minute before he looked at them, and a dozen lifetimes before his breathing went back to normal under Sirius’ palm.

He’s okay, he told himself for the umpteenth time. He’s okay. He’s awake. Hestia’s got him.

Sirius walked to the bench in a daze, hardly glancing at the game while he collected their waterbottles and braced himself on the back of a chair for a moment. “How is he?” Arthur asked, worry lacing his tone.

“He’s okay. Bruised and dizzy, no concussion.”

“Deep breaths, Cap. Deep breaths.” Sirius inhaled slowly, then exhaled with a shiver. Arthur gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “There you go. Everything’s alright.”

“That was fucking terrifying.”

“Sit down for a second, yeah?”

Sirius shook his head. “Gotta get him some water. Christ. Okay, I’m okay. Don’t know if you want me back out—”

“No,” Arthur said firmly. “We’re ahead, and your boys don’t look like they’re going to let the Snakes take it back.”

“Thank you.” Sirius pressed his lips together as the delayed fear rocking through him began to abate.

“Go on, son. I’ll update the others if they ask.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face before heading back down the hall with both waterbottles, trying to calm his racing heart to the sounds of quiet voices coming from the PT room.

“Sirius!”

“Hey, buddy.” Sirius bent down to catch Jules in a hug and felt tears prickle back up in his throat as his ribs were nearly crushed beneath skinny arms. The second he straightened, Hope and Lyall pulled him close in a flutter of worry.

“Is he still awake?” Lyall asked.

“Hestia’s got him,” Sirius confirmed, running a steady hand through Jules’ hair. “He’s up and talking, no concussion. I was just getting him some water.”

Hope looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she nodded. “Thank you. Can we see him?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Sirius lifted Jules onto his hip—the kid wasn’t letting go of him anytime soon—and led them down the hall, then knocked before pushing the door open the rest of the way.

Almost immediately, Remus was mobbed by both his parents. “I’m fine,” Remus assured them as Hope inspected the bruise on the side of his face. “I should know better than to start fights with—”

“You didn’t start it,” Lyall interrupted. “That was a late hit and the refs should’ve called it before things went that far.”

“Oh, lovey,” Hope murmured, cupping his face in her palms. “We are so happy for you, and we one hundred percent support you, but please think before you punch people twice your size.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Remus laughed as she kissed his forehead. “Where’s Jules?”

“Here.” Jules wiggled free of Sirius’ arms and crept over, then clambered up onto the table and tucked himself against Remus’ ribs with a sniffle. “Don’t do that anymore.”

“You got it,” he promised; Sirius lingered on the outside of their group hug before Remus reached out and dragged him into his other side. “Family hugs include you now, remember?”

“I need all my boys in one spot,” Hope added, giving him a light jostle.

“You guys are welcome to stay as long as you like,” Hestia said from the doorway as she propped it open. “Cap, Loops, coach might want to see you after the game.”

“How much time do we have?” Sirius asked without extracting himself from the net of affection.

“Eh, maybe five minutes? We’ve scored two goals in the past ten, so I don’t think it’ll drag on too much longer.”

“Sirius, how are you feeling? That hit looked pretty hard.” Hope gave him a concerned look, as if she was expecting him to also drop unconscious.

“I might be a little bruised in the morning, but I’m fine,” he said.

Lyall narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “Good. We need you.”

“I won’t be in for the rest of the—”

“We need you here,” he clarified, patting Sirius’ back. “Right here.”

Remus caught his eye and smiled softly; Sirius swallowed around the lump in his throat and relaxed into the hug, resting his temple against the top of Remus’ head. He was okay. They both were. They all were.

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baka-writings · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ reaction to you dancing and singing to their song

Summary: You were alone since the boys had practice so you decided to just wait for them and occupy yourself 🤷🏻‍♀️

Warnings: some of these might be kinda suggesting, but no full smut ;)

Can you guess which ones will turn kinda suggestive before you read it? Tell me in the comments~

cr.: to owners

Hongjoong:

He came home sooner than you expected so you got startled and kinda embarrassed when he literally caught you dancing and singing to Wave. He'd at first think you just miss him that's why you're listening to his music, but when he entered the living room and saw you dancing he was so shy and happy. He didn't want to disturb you, because in his opinion you were so cute, but you spotted his presence and turned the music off embarrassed.

"Why did you turn it off?" he'd ask you lowkey sad.

" I was just- uhh"

"Oh come on don't be shy" he walked to you and turned the music back on. You raised your eyebrow, waiting for him to do something.

"Dance with me?" he gave you a cheesy smile.

You accepted his offer and danced together.

(this would be his face seeing you)

Seonghwa:

You decided to take a shower, because you wanted to have your full attention on Seonghwa when he came back. It was so quiet, only the shower was heard and it was driving you crazy so you decided to sing since you were alone. The echoing sound bathroom made was so beautiful it almost made you believe you could sing.

When Seonghwa got home no one was there so he thought you were outside, but then he heard shower and singing?

"Y/N?" he called out, but no response of course. He smirked as he heard familiar lyrics. He called out once again just to confirm you couldn't hear him. Then he got in, stripped himself and sneaked behind you.

You didn't seem to see him, still singing to Horizon, then you heard a voice behind you singing with you.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you yelled at him, covering yourself. Seonghwa licked his lips and got closer to you.

"You're hot"

"That's not what I asked you pervert" he just smirked at you and kissed you as the shower was still running. You couldn't help, but moan while his hands traveled all over your body hehe.

(please use that tongue on me sir)

San:

You were making dinner as you were waiting for San to get home. You had your earphones in listening to your favorite songs when Inception started playing. It was your favorite song and you could never resist to sing along. You haven't noticed San being at home already as you were busy cooking and uhh singing and dancing along.

San smirked seeing you like that and oh how he loved your voice. He couldn't help but hug you from behind, pressing his whole body onto you. His actions made you jump.

"Hey y-you're back" you stuttered from the embarrassment.

"Mhmm" he stayed still, his arms holding you tighter. (his arms omg dad-). You could feel his breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He kissed your neck and pressed himself on you more. You could feel his bulge poking your back.

"You sound so beautiful.." he said before kissing your neck again, leaving marks. You moaned at his actions which made him smirk against your neck.

Yeosang:

You were sitting in your room, studying for finals, but you always had to listen to some music. It calmed you down and for some reason you could concentrate more.

"Raise me up, take me up..." you were singing you favorite part, not because it was your boyfriend's part....maybe...bur because it was just so beautiful.

Yeosang found you in your shared room after he got back from practice. He knew finals were incoming so he didn't want to bother you much. He just wanted to "show himself", but he didn't expect to hear what he just heard. He couldn't contain his smile and If you were really close to him you'd see tears of happiness of course. He found it so cute.

Yeosang slowly approached you not to scare you. He gave you a soft hug. You looked at him a bit shocked since you haven't seen him enter the room.

"Oh hi you're back" you smiled at him and returned the hug.

"I know you're studying, but would you mind singing some more? I promise I won't bother you, I'll just sit there" he pointed at your bad while walking over there. You chuckled at his cuteness and continued studying and of course singing for Yeosang. Every time you looked at his he was sending you hearts *gif* and cute smiles.

Yunho:

You absolutely loved Yunho's low voice, but what you loved more was his dancing. You wanted to surprise him with small dance cover of Say My Name so you were practicing.

Today wasn't any different. It took you a lot of time to get the dance right since you weren't really good at dancing. As you were practicing, you haven't seen Yunho come in.

Yunho heard a growl from you, when you suddenly stopped. He felt kinda sorry.

"Need help?" he asked you smiling, with s light pink cheeks.

"Aww you're back! How long have you been standing there though?" you asked embarrassed.

"Long enough to see you need help" he stepped more inside the room.

"Oh o-okay" you blushed at the thought of him seeing you fail.

He tried to explain to you how to do the dance properly. You followed his every move, but it looked a lot better when he did it. Yunho heard you growl again. He looked at you and saw you pouting.

"N-No don't be sad you're doing great"

"Why do you need the dance anyway?"

"I wanted to surprise you" you pouted at him, going for a hug. He couldn't help but smile and blush at your cuteness and the will to learn such a hard dance.

Wooyoung:

You were just finishing cleaning, when one of your favorite songs started playing in your earphones. You for some reason already knew some of the moves definitely not because your boyfriend always made you watch them dance

As you were dancing around and minding your own business you haven't noticed 6 pairs of eyes looking at you.

Wooyoung was eyeing you the most, but he was mostly proud of himself since he taught you the Wonderland dance.

"Well this is awkward.." Mingi whispered to the boys.

"But she's got better moves than Wooyoung" Seonghwa smirked down at Wooyoung.

"That's my girl" Wooyoung said proudly.

"Yeah we still can't believe she'd date you.." Seonghwa replied, seeing Wooyoung furrow his eyebrows.

"Hey what's that supposed to mean" Wooyoung said in a louder voice, which you could hear as well.

You turned to where they were standing, all kind of face expressions on their faces.

"We're you just staring at me. ... dancing?"

"You've got nice moves" Seonghwa smirked, who knows what he was thinking about. You chuckled making Wooyoung kinda jelly.

Mingi:

You just got out of the shower, wearing only a towel around yourself. You had your playlist on full volume, jamming to every song playing.

Thanxx was playing next and let's be honest there's no way one does not dance to it right? Right. You were doing so while brushing your hair and doing your night routine. You almost slipped on the wet floor while dancing, but managed to get ahold of yourself.

Mingi arrived home hearing familiar tune playing in your shared apartment. He smiled to himself happily knowing you like his music. However he hasn't imagined you would be almost naked out there. That's why he was kind of taken aback when he saw you only in a towel. He smirked to himself, wild thoughts running through his head.

You saw him in the mirror, smirking down at you. You smirked back at him which turned him on more. Mingi then got behind you and gave you a a jone crushing needy hug. You loved when he was turned on honestly. You smirked again and untied your towel, revealing you naked body. Mingi almost choked on air as he didn't expect you to do that. After he regained himself fun stuff happened hehe.

Jongho:

You were laying on couch, enjoying your alone time. But you missed Jongho.

You closed your eye to relax and let your mind wander around Jongho. Obviously

"Deep in my heart, deep in my soul. . ." you sang out at the thought of Jongho.

"you should go a bit higher" you heard a voice. Huh? Was s dream? Then you felt a hand on your cheek.

You replied, eyes still closed

"you know not everyone has a vocal range like you..but If you want me to die I'll try it"

"Please don't try, I don't want to be the cause of your voice loss...besides you have a wrong technique anyway and-" you cut him of with a kiss. Sometimes you hated he cocky he got as he got older.

*sorry this one was short*

#kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop ships #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez mtl #kpop smut

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santigarcia · 4 years ago

Text

Knockout Blues

a 1940s mob au blue jones x f!reader fic~

word count: 8k

rating: m/e - for smut, canon typical violence for sucker punch and mob movies, some slight non con, themes of a abuse and a major character death - pls only read if you are 18+!

summary: You’re hired by the mob to sing at a nightclub, and you fall in love with the devilishly handsome nightclub host~

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for a long time, i’ve worked so hard on it!! i hope you all enjoy it!! thank you to @sergeantkane for this header!!!

The nightclub Knockout Blues is lively tonight. You walk inside arm in arm with your boyfriend Sam Miller. You’re greeted with the smell of smoke and alcohol and strong perfume. There’s a bar along the back wall. The floor is full of round tables with chairs. The stage is on the far right of the entrance. Waitresses are buzzing about, men in fine suits sit at tables as they drink. Scantily clad women dance on the stage, fringe dangling from their breasts and hips, as large feather fans tease the audience.

It was much quieter when you came in earlier this week to audition.

You’re a singer, and the owner of this club expressed interest in hiring you.

You know this club is a front for the mob. Your boyfriend Sam is one of them. You don’t know what it is that he does, but it scares you. You want to end things with him, but you’re too scared to leave. You aren’t sure what would happen to you if you were left to fend for yourself.

You can’t worry about that tonight though. Tonight is your first show.

You part ways with Sam to head backstage. He gives you a sloppy kiss and a smack to your ass on his way to the bar. A nearby patron smirks at you. You can only scoff. Your dreams of being a famous singer will not be ruined. You are determined. You might have to suffer some bad gigs before you’re able to move up the chain.

Tiptoeing backstage, you see a whole other world. Costumes, make-up, wigs, props of all kinds are scattered about. Performers are getting ready, women powdering their noses. You can faintly hear the cheering from the small audience, the sound is drowned out from the bustle back here.

There’s a man in a silky white coat kissing one of the dancers, his hand is grasping her ass and stroking up her thigh. You try not to stare, though you’re not exactly shocked – just intrigued. This isn’t what you were anticipating.

Wandering around like a lost child, you freeze when you see a door with your name scrawled on a piece of paper taped to it. The door is slightly ajar, and you nudge it open. You turn on the light switch revealing a small vanity with a mirror surrounded by lightbulbs. There’s a rack of clothes with a single red sparkly dress on it. There’s also a schedule taped to the mirror with your name circled on each date you’re to perform for the rest of the month.

“You have twenty minutes,” someone with a clipboard pokes in your room and tells you. You’d only just realized you didn’t close the door behind you.

You lock it, and frantically begin to undress and change into this dress. It’s a perfect fit and flattering to your figure. But it’s a little more revealing than you’d prefer.

There’s a light switch on the wall by the mirror and this turns on the bulbs, you flick it on and get one last look at yourself before you are to go on stage.

The same person with the clipboard bangs on your door and tells you to follow them. The dancers who were on stage earlier brush past you on your way up front. You stand on the side now, looking on stage.

The same man who was kissing one of the dancers is speaking, he’s making the crowd laugh. Then you hear your name from his lips. He’s announcing your performance. Nerves shoot down to your toes, and you’re not so gently nudged onto the stage. The man walks with more swagger than you’ve ever seen past you, he gives you a little wink when you make eye contact. His slicked-back black hair, thin mustache and gorgeous smile have you dizzy for a moment before you realize there’s an audience staring at you.

Some men whistle as you step forward to the microphone. When you nod the band begins to play, and you begin to sing.

The spotlight on you is just a little too bright for you to see out in the audience, you can only make out shapes of patrons at tables. There’s a thick layer of smoke high in the air also hindering your view.

You let your voice carry and it’s a release. Release from the stressors and fears. All apprehensions about taking this job are forgotten in this moment.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

The setlist you’ve been given is short, with a promise of more songs the longer you’re here. You are content with this – a couple songs for your first night at this club isn’t bad at all. In fact, you’re quite proud.

There’s a spring in your step when you head back to your dressing room. You’re all smiles, proud of a good performance. The bustle backstage doesn’t bother you as you breeze into your room.

It’s there you’re met with a shock. The man from before, with the thin mustache and white silk coat. He’s sitting in the chair in front of the vanity, smoothing his eyebrow down as he looks in the mirror. He makes eye contact with you in the reflection. His eyes are dark, but then a genuine kind smile flashes across his face.

“Hey, sugar. That was a hell of a show!” He stands, spinning to face you. He straightens his tie and practically glides over to you. He’s quick to take your hand in his and he plants a kiss to the back of your hand. His eyes flick up to yours, and he grins devilishly at the shy look in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out.

“I’m Blue. Blue Jones.”

“You’re the owner?” The double meaning of the word owner is not lost on him, but he shakes his head no with a smile.

“No, no, that’s not me. Demetrius Fontana is the owner, I’m what you’d call a ‘figurehead.’ They call me ‘Blue’ because I’m the host of the show here at Knockout Blues,” he said as if he’s said this speech a thousand times.

“Have you met him? Mr. Fontana?”

“Boss? Course I have. He’s the one who hired me, sugar. He hired you too.”

“Did he?” You don’t remember meeting any mob bosses at your audition.

“Tall guy? Quiet? Scar under his eye? He wouldn’t have spoken. Only smoked a cigar at one of the tables.”

You nod, you remember seeing this man. It fills you with a nauseous feeling.

“Don’t worry,” Blue smiles, reaching to touch your arm, seeing your obvious discomfort. “He must have liked ya or else he wouldn’t’ have hired you.”

You don’t know if that’s better or worse. Somehow you get the feeling it’s too late. You can’t back out now. Dating Sam is one thing, you don’t want to anymore. But this? One of New York’s most powerful and feared men knows your name.

“Should I be scared?” you whisper. You don’t know why you’re asking him this, but he seems to know all the ins and outs of this place.

“Nah. Just don’t piss ‘em off,” he winks. “You’ll probably owe him a favor though.”

“Favor?”

“Yeah. A favor.” He says it so casually, but you don’t like the sound of it. “You didn’t think you got this job just because of your talent, did you? I mean you are damn good and gorgeous. But sugar, when these people do something for you, they expect a little something back.”

If you weren’t filled with dread already, now you really feel sick. You can only imagine what your favor would be.

“So, do I need to take you home or call you a cab?” Blue keeps on talking, as if nothing he’s said is worth fearing.

“Oh, my boyfriend is going to take me home.”

Blue nods, “well it was nice to meet you sugar. I look forward to working with you.” Another little wink.

A tune is on his lips, he whistles as he leaves your dressing room. Then he’s gone.

It’s not long before Sam comes to pick you up. You’ve had time to change into your regular clothes. He comes in drunk and lipstick smudged on his mouth and shirt collar. Another woman’s perfume is heavy in the air.

“Did you even see my show?” you ask.

He must think about it as if he can’t remember. He pushes you out the door and into the hallway. You hit the wall with a grunt. Down the hallway you see Blue with another dancer. The last one was a red head; this one was brunette. But he stops kissing her when he hears you.

“There a problem?” he calls down to you and Sam. The woman is kissing his neck while his hands rub up and down her back. His eyes are checking to see you’re ok.

“No,” Sam snarls, angry that Blue is interfering. “Come on,” he yanks your arm and pulls you down the hall past Blue and the brunette dancer. She’s still kissing his neck, and her knee is sliding up Blue’s inner thigh. Blue looks at you over this girl and gives you yet another wink.

It makes your face warm. His charm and charisma are enough that you’re already looking forward to coming in again despite any apprehensions you might have about favors from the mob.

When Sam fucks you that night, you wish it were Blue. You think about those hands and his eyes. Maybe it’s a foolish fantasy. But fantasy or not – you’re already developing a very real crush on Blue Jones of Knockout Blues.

Weeks pass and your crush on Blue is growing. It’s become quite the infatuation. He’s always pleasant when he sees you, and his touch gives you a thrill. Maybe it’s the idea that you shouldn’t, or that he’s nicer to you than your actual boyfriend.

So, your Blue crush keeps you eager to come back. You come early to the shows now to catch him sing. He’s always the opening act.

And the more time you spend at the club, the less scary it feels.

You’ve even met the…owner. Briefly. He was at the bar one evening. You’d just finished a performance and you stuck around to get a drink. He gave you a nod and bought your drink before he left. You’ll take that as a compliment.

You spend more time here at the club than you thought. Your evenings are busy with performances, but even after you’re done you hang around. In the afternoons you stop by for the occasional rehearsal.

You’re always on the look out for Blue, and he’s always around. Always with perfect hair and an easy smile. You’ve become friends of sorts, he’s always friendly. But you can’t help but want more. You can only assume he doesn’t flirt with you because of who your boyfriend is, which makes you want to break things off with him even more.

At least you have some interactions with Blue.

Tonight, he pops into your dressing room while you’re finishing your makeup.

“You ready for tonight?” He asks picking up your tube of lipstick. He pops the cap and rotates the stick in and out.

“Blue,” you smile at him. “I need that.”

“May I?” he grins.

“Okay,” you shrug casually, but inside your heart is pounding.

With his thumb and forefinger pressing on your jaw, he tilts your head back and opens your mouth in one movement. With his other hand, he sweeps the red lipstick across your lips. Then he reaches in his silk coat and pulls out a handkerchief. He cleans the residue of the lipstick from the corners of your mouth. He folds the small piece of fabric and tucks it back in his pocket.

“It’ll stain!” You gasp, still flustered from how close he was to you just moments ago.

“It’s a souvenir,” he clicks his tongue with a wink. He stops then and his eyes linger on your lips.

“What is it?” you turn with a furrowed brow to look in the mirror.

“I’d love to kiss those lips sugar.” He stays, standing behind you. He’s looking at your lips now in the mirror, then he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I know you want me too.”

“Blue, I can’t!” You stand up to move away from him. “Sam…”

“What about him? He doesn’t treat you right. Let me take care of you.”

“I can’t. He- won’t let me.”

“Let you?”

“I have to finish getting ready Blue. Did you need something?” You sniffle, trying not to smudge your fresh makeup.

“I wanted to ask you; would you sing a duet with me tonight? I know we haven’t practiced but I’d love to sing with you sugar. I’ll pick a song you know.”

“Really?” you look at him, your sad eyes turning bright. “I’d love to!”

“I’ll see you on stage in a few then?” His hand cups your elbow gently, his fingers leaving a heat on your skin.

Then quick as a wink, he’s out of the room whistling cheerfully. He’s always in a good mood, and it’s infectious.

Can this be happening? Are you about to sing with him? You fell deeper in love when you heard him sing. Now to be on stage with him? Seeing his stage presence up close? Your tongue feels numb.

Buzzing, you finish getting ready and dart down the hall to wait your turn. When Blue announces your name, it feels more personal this time. He’s looking right at you when he says it. The way he’s looking at you right now sends a shiver down your spine, it’s carnal.

He offers his hand, and you walk on stage happily, your game face on. Your eyes and small are bright, and the spectators cheer when they see you, you’re a new favorite.

The song begins, and thankfully it is one you know well. You’ve not even practiced with him, but the rawness that comes from it works. He holds you close and twirls you around. It’s an intimate dance, your bodies and voices intertwine as if you’d be lovers for years.

His smile is devilish, and he holds you so close you shiver. There’s a heat of excitement blooming between your legs, especially when his hand rounds your ass for a squeeze.

The song ends too quickly for your liking – but before you can even turn to exit the stage, Blue pulls you to him. He dips you down low and plants a searing kiss on your lips. His tongue delves between your lips, and his mustache tickles your upper lip. Those watching seem to cheer even louder, and when he straightens you back upright, you feel dizzy. The lights and sounds are all a blur. You can only see Blue and that wicked grin.

He lingers on stage to announce the next part of the show, while you float back to your room. You don’t even remember walking in there. Your heart feels like it could pound right out of your chest. You dance, you dance in circles around the room. You wish you could bottle up this happiness.

A knock on the door pulls you from your daydream, and with a grin you turn. Expecting to see Blue. Only you don’t see Blue – it’s your boyfriend Sam. You can smell the alcohol on him from where you stand.

“Sam, I-“

“Nice show tonight. You been practicing that?”

“No. Sam-“ he takes a step closer to you and you back away, there’s an anger in his eyes. The anger burns, and with a backhanded swing his hand hits your cheek. The skin stings and you feel blood trickle down, a small cut left behind from his ring.

He leans back to punch you this time, but you duck out of the way. His fist crashes into the mirror, breaking it, the shards fall with a loud crash.

The sound brings unwanted attention, and in moments you see Blue. Fontana is behind him. When Sam sees who is standing in the doorway, he backs off. He ducks out of the room without an apology, but you’re glad he’s gone.

Blue is at your side in an instant. Fontana is quiet, he gives you another nod when he sees Blue is with you.

“Are you alright?” Blue looks over your face, shushing you when you fall into his arms.

“Get me out of here,” you sob into his shoulder.

Blue wraps his arms around you, shielding you from prying eyes as you exit the backstage door. You leave in such a hurry that you forget your change of clothes. There’s a chill in the alley, and your sparkly red show dress does nothing to keep you warm. Blue shrugs his silk coat and wraps it around your shoulders.

“Come on, sugar. I know where we can go.”

You don’t walk far before you’re at the large hotel near the nightclub. You never even dreamed of staying here it’s too expensive. But Blue walks right in. Several people say hi to him, and it’s the first time you realize how popular his performances are – and how many connections to the mob there are.

He doesn’t even stop at the front desk; he guides you over to an elevator and presses a button. He presses the button to the top floor as if it’s nothing, but he’s puffing out his chest a little – he’s proud.

“The top floor?”

“Fontana suggested it,” Blue shrugs.

“What kind of favor did you do to get this?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I hope you’re not afraid of me,” he looks at you, his eyes softening. You know he must have done something big to get a suite on the top floor, but you do trust him.

“I’m not,” you tell him.

“Good,” he reaches for your hand and squeezes. “This life isn’t what you think it is.” He sounds almost sad, and it tugs at your heart. “I don’t want you to see me as someone in the business.”

You shake your head. No, of course you don’t. He’s been nothing but kind to you and honest.

The elevator bell dings finally, and his hand is on your lower back guiding you to his room. He fishes for his keys in his pockets and smiles at you when he slides the key into the lock.

You gasp when you step inside the room. It’s big and beautiful. So much space! It’s bigger than your apartment.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” he says warmly.

“You’re not staying?”

“I thought you would want to be alone,” he offers, taking a step towards you.

“I want you to stay.”

Trembling, you reach for his hand guiding his warm palm to rest on your cheek. His touch is soft, a whisper over the growing bruise on your face. Tears well up in your eyes, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with you.

“I won’t let him hurt you again,” he says smoothing his thumb over the bruise.

Feeling bold, you place your hand on his chest. His eyes flick down and he reaches up to hold your hand.

“What is it sugar?”

“I want you Blue, I need you.”

His eyebrow raises in question, you know what he’s asking. If you do this if you fall into bed with him there’s no going back. An affair of this magnitude will have consequences. But you’re ready to be rid of Sam, you want Blue.

When you close the gap further and trace your knee up his thigh, Blue pulls you in for a searing kiss. The flames lick at your body, his tongue a fierce passionate intrusion into your mouth. His hands are already working on the zipper of your dress, and he hums in delight when he feels the bare skin of your back.

He pushes your dress down then, exposing your breasts to him. You’re truly a sight. He pulls you back in for a kiss and his hand cradles the back of your head – leaning you down on the bed. Fingers dance along your body, his thumbs brush over your nipples as they pass by. He’s quick to slide off the rest of your undergarments, now leaving you naked in front of him.

He’s quick to undress himself, and you gawk as each part of his suit drops to the floor. His cock is aching with need, and he pumps himself lazily – his pinky ring catches the light, and you groan.

Blue crawls over you, kissing his way up to your mouth. His hands are everywhere. One hand cups a breast, the other teases your slick folds. His mouth is all over your neck and jaw and face. He nibbles your ear. His fingers bring you to pleasure embarrassingly quick.

“Sugar,” he bites your neck, “you did need me, didn’t you?” he purrs.

When he finally pushes himself inside after all the teasing, he whines in your ear.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck!”

Your hands slip into his perfectly gelled hair and pull. You kiss at his neck. He growls and thrusts harshly. His rich cologne is in your nose, mixed with a hint of smoke and sweat. His body moves on top of yours in strong fluid motions. You’re coming again quickly, just as he spills into you.

You groan together, the sweet music of you pleasure intertwining.

Blue makes love to you all night. Heated and rough. Slow and sweet. Passionate and electrifying.

You’re overly sensitive and have tear stained cheeks before the night is over.

It’s close to 5 am when you’re finally still and tangled in the sheets with your new lover.

“I want to run away with you.” You tell him. Your fingers tracing shapes on his chest while he holds you.

“I’d love that too sugar. But we can’t.”

“Why couldn’t we though?” you sit up. “Why couldn’t we just run away right now?”

“Too many obligations,” he smooths his hair back. “You know it and I know it.

“What? As a performer?”

“I can at least help you get away from Sam.”

You flop back down on the bed. You know he’s right. You can’t just leave, even though it’s what you want. But you’d never be able to rest, you know they have people everywhere who would find you.

So, you begin to plan. It won’t be easy to end things with Sam. It makes you nervous, and after such a good night with Blue, you can hardly stand to think about it. You fall asleep in Blue’s arms making plans for your future together.

When you wake, you’re alone.

The curtains are closed but you can see the sunlight trying to peek in. The clock on the wall tells you it’s close to noon. With a groan you sit up and stretch. There’s a note on the bed where Blue slept. The ink is dark blue and in perfect smooth cursive.

‘Meet me tonight, sugar. After your show. xx Blue.’

You hold the note to your chest and sigh happily. You collect your things to get dressed, but you pause when you see the giant bathtub in the bathroom. You draw yourself a bath and sink into the tub. You’re sore from last night, not just sex with Blue – but Sam hurting you. But you try not to think about that part.

Hunger and the water cooling pull you from the bath. You take a good long look at yourself in the mirror. There are hickeys and slight scrapes from a certain mustache all over your skin. But Blue was careful to only mark you up in places that would be hidden by your dress. Your bruise and slight cut on your cheek are healing, but still hurt. They can be covered with makeup, but your face is still a little swollen.

Tears well up in your eyes, you try to think about Blue’s tender touch instead.

You get ready as best you can, realizing you need to go back to the club to get your clothes. You’re sure it would be alright if you grabbed a meal then too.

It seems so different now to go down the elevator alone, and to walk alone in the daylight to the club. You make your way in the alley to the backstage doors. Two stagehands are having a smoke break, and the door is propped open. They don’t seem to notice or care that you trot up the stairs and disappear inside.

Returning to your dressing room after last night sends a sick feeling to your stomach. All your make-up is on the floor. The mirror is broken. It’s a complete mess. But you wipe your tears away and change out of your dress into your regular clothes from the night before. Carefully, you pick up the make-up from among the glass.

That’s when you hear two voices. They’re hushed, speaking right outside in the hallway. One of them is Sam. You feel sick. You quiet yourself so he won’t know you’re in here.

The other voice you don’t recognize. But what he says scares you.

“You have to do it tonight Miller. You have to kill him.”

“I know,” Sam hisses back. “I fuckin’ know.”

You can’t catch anymore because their voices fade as they walk down the hall farther from your room. You sigh to yourself, but bristle at the thought of who they are planning to kill. You need to tell Blue.

You forget to stop by the bar to get food, instead you ask around if Blue is in the building. No one has seen him, and you take no comfort in that. The thought of Sam seeing you here fills you with dread, so you make a hasty exit back to your apartment.

You’ll go back to the club early tonight. Warning Blue is all that matters. Even the promise of another night tangled in the sheets is pushed from your mind from the fear.

But you’re exhausted. Your entire night last night was full of emotions and physical moments. Even if your night had not been filled with Blue, you wonder if you would have slept after such a fight in the dressing room.

You sit down on your bed for a moment, and the next thing you know, you wake with a gasp.

It’s after dark.

Panicking, you grab your purse sprinting out the door.

You make it to the club, but you’re late. You gasp a little louder than you intended when you see Blue is alive and well onstage.

You make your way backstage and look for him when he’s done with his act. You see him entering your dressing room before you can catch up with him. You run, scared there might be a trap waiting for him.

“Blue!” you gasp running into the room only to see him standing in front of a new mirror smoothing down his hair. The room is completely clean, it looks nicer than it was before. There’s no evidence of what happened last night.

“Yeah sugar?” he turns with a smile. “Something wrong?”

“It’s Sam,” you run to him, hugging him tight. “He’s going to kill someone. I heard him talking.”

“Where is he?” Blue looks angry. He moves like a man on a mission out of your dressing room. You follow behind him as he makes his way out onto the main floor looking for Sam.

He’s at the bar having a drink. It’s all a blur after Blue grabs Sam’s shoulder. Punches are thrown left and right. You watch in horror as Sam gets his punches in. You don’t know if he’s supposed to kill Blue, or if he’s angry Blue has taken you away from him.

A few men pull Blue and Sam apart, and Blue tells you to go.

“Go to our hotel, wait for me. It’ll be alright.” He slips the room key into your hand, and tears well up in your eyes. “Go.”

As you’re leaving, Sam breaks away and goes at Blue again. A brawl is breaking out in the club. You leave with tears pouring down your cheeks. You’re scared for Blue’s life.

For the second time today you’re alone in that hotel. The walk there is a blur as you’re crying and shaken with fear.

Your hands are trembling when you unlock the door, you can barely get the key in. Being in this room after last night has you feeling comforted and frightened all at once. There’s so much Blue in the room, it feels like him. But what if he gets hurt? What if you don’t see him ever again? About a million thoughts race through your mind for the next few hours.

You grow sick with worry.

Where is he?

It’s late into the night when you finally hear a knock on the door. You jump out of your skin. You look through the peephole and your gasp hurt your chest. Opening the door, you see Blue- standing there with his hands covered in blood.

His white silky jacket is gone, and his shirt has bloodstains on it. His hair is a mess, and blood is splattered on his face. His hands are the worst though, completely red. The blood has long dried and he seems visibly shaken.

“What happened?” you gasp pulling him in the room. “Are you hurt?”

“Your boyfriend, Sam, I-“ he looks down at his hands, “I killed him.”

All the air is knocked out of you. Sam is dead? As in? D-e-a-d? And Blue is the one that did it? What could have happened?? What are you supposed to be feeling right now?

“I’m sorry,” Blue cups your face with his bloodstained hands. You feel the sticky drying blood on your cheeks, a reminder of the life that used to flow in Sam’s veins.

“What happened?” you grab Blue’s wrists, securing his hands to your face. You want to know. You did love Sam long ago, you think. But there’s been so much fear and pain, you’ve grown to despise him. You decide his death now means your freedom, and a future with Blue. You want to know what happened, every gory detail.

So, he tells you.

Blue tells you how he was mingling in the crowd after his performance, trying to act casual. Someone threw a punch at someone, then it was a big blur. That’s when Sam made his move for Blue.

“He was after you this whole time?” you gasp. “Why?”

“Sam was a fuckin’ mole this whole time. He was rattin’ on us, giving up secrets to rival mobs.”

Your hand flies to your mouth in shock.

“Why was he after you?” your lip trembles.

“Hey, shh,” he traces his thumb over your trembling lip. “Don’t tremble, sugar. I’m safe. See?” he spins around showing you that he’s fine.

He continues his story, painting an awful picture of Sam charging for Blue. He had a knife out, ready to stab Blue.

“And he almost did, nicked the sleeve on my shoulder. But I got to him first.”

“How?”

Blue pats his breast pocket, “I keep a small knife in here, you never know.”

Your rational mind tells you this is dangerous, that you should leave. But killing Sam wasn’t murder, just self-defense.

“Then what happened?”

Blue stabbed Sam. Then the mob does what they do, swept the whole thing under the rug.

“Is this our chance? Blue are we free?”

Blue sighs heavily. He turns from you, pacing back and forth in the hotel room. Now you notice the ripped sleeve on his shoulder, and just how much blood is on his white silk suit jacket. His arms and hands are deep red. You feel a little dizzy.

“Boss gave me a bigger job, they’re proud of me.”

That’s the last thing you hear Blue say before you pass out.

When you come to, you’re lying on the bed. Strong, rich cologne wafts into your nose, and you slowly sit up to see Blue. He’s sitting next to you on the bed, wearing a white robe with black trim. His hair is wet and slicked back. His hands are squeaky clean.

“There she is,” Blue whispers and leans down to press a light kiss to your forehead. “You alright?”

You nod, feeling a little dizzy.

“You’re in shock,” he tells you standing up. “Let me draw you a bath? Would you like that sugar?”

“We’re still stuck Blue. Stuck in this life!” You feel like you’re going to be sick.

“Sugar, hey woah, deep breaths for me. I’m in good with them right now, we don’t have to worry.”

“But what if you screw something up?” you gasp at your own words. “I’m sorry.”

His jaw ticks and he looks angry, but then you see a soft smile.

“I understand, I do. But right now, there’s nothing we can do. Let me draw you a bath.”

You know he’s right, so you let him. The bathtub is huge, and the water is the perfect temperature. He sits on the edge of the tub and you let him wash the blood off your face.

“Blue?” you blink up at him. “What if you kill the boss?” You’re too scared to even say his name, as if he could hear you in this room. With the mob, who knows. There could be bugs in here.

“How would that help?” Blue crosses his arms and leans back a little.

“I don’t know,” you shrug and look down. “I just thought, you’ve killed before why not do it again.” You whisper.

“Wait, wait sugar you might be onto something.” He sits up. “If I kill him then I could take over! Damn, sugar. How would you like to be a mob boss’s wife hmm? Oh baby,” he pushes up his sleeve and sticks his hand down in the water between your legs. “I would spoil you rotten,” he grits his teeth on the last word to emphasize, all while his fingers tease your sex.

He brings you closer to orgasm with his fingers while he fills your mind with promises of your future together.

“I’d kill for you, sugar. I’d burn the world down if I could give you what you want. Tell me, what do you want?” His fingers circle your bundle of nerves harder, and then he thrusts his fingers inside.

“You, Blue. I want you,” you moan as you reach your high. You whine, and he smirks. His eyes raking over your body in the tub.

When you’re done with your bath, Blue helps you out. He chuckles mischievously in your ear when he wraps a plush robe around your body. You surprise him then and nudge him back into the bedroom.

You untie his robe and shove him back on the bed. You shrug your robe and drop to your knees.

“Sugar- “

“Blue, let me. Let me suck the cock of the future boss.”

He lulls his head back at your words, and he groans even louder when you put your lips on him.

“The power you’d have,” you moan and kiss his thighs. “We could do anything we want,” you lick a stripe up to his tip and he jerks his hips. You mingle your praises with the actions of your mouth, teasing him.

He’s loud, desperate. The hunger for power and the hunger for his release have him writhing against your touch. He’s hungry, and he’ll take what he wants. He thrusts up into your mouth and comes with a loud moan.

When he sits up, his hair is disheveled, a wicked grin is on his face. You know the look; he’s got an idea.

“I know how I can become the boss.”

Blue is balls deep in your heat when he goes over the plan one last time. His thrusts are hard, erratic. You’ve come twice already and he’s nearing his end. Your thighs burn and your lungs struggle to catch a breath. This time it’s different, you both know.

Tonight’s the night.

Tonight, is the night Blue takes over the club and becomes the boss.

You’re nervous though. There are too many parts of this plan that could go wrong. But this is the only way that you and Blue will get your freedom – is if he’s in charge.

“No one,” he grunts, grabbing your hips, “Will hurt you again-“ He moans spilling deep inside you. Your walls flutter and you come a third time around him. The rush of knowing you’re going to be part of a murder scheme floods your veins. It feels so wrong, but Blue feels so good.

Blue lets himself collapse onto you, his mouth already seeking yours for a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth and he moans, he twitches inside of you.

“Blue?” you purr and rake your fingers through his hair. “You getting hard again?”

“You’re all mine,” he growls and kisses all over your face and neck. “Don’t forget what I said. Be in the office right after the show ends.”

You want to stay with him, but he pulls out. There’s something on his mind. You wonder if he’s nervous about tonight.

“Stick to the plan,” he says.

The plan.

The plan is to do the show like normal. The boss will be there tonight. After the show, go in his office for a private meeting. Blue will follow behind and while he’s staring at your figure, Blue goes for the kill.

Should be simple enough right?

Wrong.

You’re trying to get dressed in the bathroom but your hands tremble. You just know you’re going to get something wrong tonight.

“I’m scared Blue,” you call to him. You’re looking at your reflection, waiting to hear his reply.

“C’mere sugar,” you hear him. He’s quick to greet you with a smile. His hands reach for your hips and he pulls down your hose. “You were right,” he growls. “I was getting hard again.” You look down between your bodies to see him stroking himself. Loose strands of hair are in his face, the veins in his neck pop from exertion as he jerks himself off over. His cum splatters all over your stomach and your bra.

“That’s my only one!” you gasp but moan, feeling yourself grow slick.

“Guess you’ll have to go without,” he smirks and buries his face between your thighs. His voice comes out in a gravelly whisper, “you’re going to be perfect, sugar. There’s nothing to mess up. You sing, and you look gorgeous.”

Blue’s mouth on your heat distracts you from the nerves. But only for a moment.

Even when you peel off your bra and clean off yourself your hand has a tremble. You can’t even apply your lipstick properly.

“Here, let me,” Blue sweeps in, swiping the red stick across you lips. “Remember this?” he grins affectionately. How could you forget? Though it seems like a lifetime ago.

Blue gives you a wink, an unspoken reminder that it’ll be alright. You want to believe him, you truly do. And you think on this on the short walk over to the club.

It wasn’t too long ago it was your dream to be a famous singer. Now you’re dating a man planning to kill and then become a mob boss. Your dream of fame seems meaningless now.

You remember that singing always calms your nerves, you hope it does tonight.

Your fingers tremble as you get dressed in your dressing room. These clasps have never been easy due to the tight nature of your outfit, but tonight it seems more difficult. Murder. You’ll helping to assist a man with a murder plot. This isn’t you. Or it wasn’t you. You look at yourself in the mirror and see the guilt and shame.

You picture Blue here. What would he say if he were with you? That Fontana is a bad man. He’s killed people. Hurt people. You’re doing the world a favor right?

Then you think about the promises Blue made to you. Being a mob wife, being spoiled with riches and affection from your doting husband.

Your face warms thinking about marrying Blue. You can picture what your wedding would be like. Him taking you somewhere fancy for your honeymoon.

Yes.

This is what you want. You’re going to help Blue with this. Besides, you’re not the one doing the actual killing. Blue has killed before, and he can again.

It’s almost showtime and you’re ready. As ready as you’ll ever be.

The backstage tech comes to get you, telling you it’s your cue. You give them a smile. This show is going to be killer.

You don’t make it a habit to look out in the audience when you perform, but you do tonight. Just to make sure the boss Fontana is there. And he is, sitting quietly near the middle.

You give it your all in this performance, it might be your last one for a while. You’ve not talked to Blue about it, but you wonder if that would be a bad idea.

You sing your heart out, and when the show is over you feel a rush of adrenaline as you head backstage. Blue is waiting for you in your dressing room with a big smile.

“You were fantastic, sugar,” he strokes your arm and gives you a deep kiss. “You ready for the second act? I’ll be right behind you, don’t be afraid.”

It’s hard not to be when you walk towards Fontana’s door. You’ve never been in here before. You take a moment to gather yourself. You smooth down the lines of your outfit and breathe. You knock on the door, and before you can even put your hand down – one of his guards is opening it.

The room is dimly lit and it’s hard to make out Fontana. There’s a window behind him. The shades are drawn but on the other side of the window you can tell is the bar.

You stand frozen, unsure of what to do when a guard puts his hand on your shoulder, pushing you back a little.

“Let her in,” you hear a voice.

It sounded like….

Blue?

As your eyes fully adjust to the light, you can see Blue sitting at the desk. He must have done it! He didn’t need you as a distraction after all!

“Blue?” You take a step forward. “Are you alright? Did you do it?”

“Do what sugar?” He chuckles softly and looks to the man standing to his right. It’s only then that you notice this man is Fontana. You gulp, you feel your blood run cold. Something’s not right.

“I thought-“

“You thought what?”

“Blue! Answer me!” You cross your arms over your chest. He’s not usually one for games with you like this.

“Sweetheart, no one tells me what to do.” He tuts with a frown that turns to a malicious smile. “But I suppose…I should explain to you what’s going on.”

A guard closes the door behind you with a click, and you hear the lock turn. You’re scared.

“You see, sugar-“ his voice sounds poisonous, not the one full of smooth honey and sensuality that you’d come to love. “We knew that Sam was the mole. We needed to get to him see? So I knew pulling you away from him would expose him.”

“You used me?”

He nods with another wicked smile.

“Oh, and I’m the boss. If you haven’t guessed that one yet. Always was. Did you really think they’d name a club after a random nightclub singer?” He laughs and so do his men. “Fontana here was my figurehead. And you fell right into my little trap sweet thing.”

“I-“ you feel betrayed. You were betrayed. You turn to leave, but a guard grabs your arm.

“I did NOT say you could leave. Sugar.” Blue yells and slams his hand on his desk. The action causes his perfectly gelled hair to flip down onto his forehead.

“What use do you have for me?” you feel hot tears pouring down your cheeks.

Blue looks up to Fontana with another wicked grin. “Well,” Blue starts and gets up, walking around the desk to face you. Two of his guards have their hands on you, keeping you still. Blue comes over to the front of his desk and leans on the edge looking at you. “You have two options.”

“Which are?” you sniffle and your lip begins to quiver.

“Aww, look at that lip,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he claps his hands together and you jump. “You want your two options.” He sighs heavily and his thumb smooths over the edge of the desk repeatedly. “You can either marry me, be a mob wife. I’ll give you anything you want. Remember? When you were sucking my cock?” he chuckles and palms his dick through his pants. “You moaned sugar, you wanted to be my little mob wife. Well, now you have that chance!”

Tears are pouring down your cheeks, your face is hot with embarrassment and you feel like you could throw up all over the floor.

“But the second option…well, that’s not as fun. Since you’ve seen too much….well. I think you can guess your second choice.”

“I don’t-“ you sniffle again. You certainly don’t want to die, but what kind of life will you live if you’re Blue’s wife? Did he ever really love you?

“C’mere, sugar,” he beckons you over and the guards release their grip. You step over to him, he’s fully seated on the edge of his desk now. He reaches for you and smooths his hands up and down your arms like he has so many times. “You’re scared. I know. But you want to marry me right?”

“Did you ever?”

“Love you? No. But I did love fucking you,” he smirks. “It’d be a shame to give that up.” He pulls you forward and hovers over your lips with his own. “And remember, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” You pull back.

He hops up and goes to sit back in his chair. He looks through files on top of his desk and hands you a piece of paper. It’s the paper saying that you were hired by the club.

“I hired you. Yeah, your voice is good, but see we needed you. And hey! You got the gig!” he sits up and pulls you around to him. “But you OWE me.” He says pulling you down on his lap. You can feel him hard between your legs. “Feel that sugar? Do you wanna give this up?” He rubs himself against you and you want to pull away.

“So you’ve made your choice then?” he asks, grabbing your face to look at him.

“Blue, no-“

“You have.” He tsks and frowns. “Such a waste of good pussy. Ah, well. I can find another.” He reaches then in his breast pocket for the knife you know he keeps in there. He’s fast, you see it for a split second before he plunges it into your chest.

“Such a waste. She really was a knockout,” he strokes your cheek gently before you fall limp onto his desk. Your blood trickling over the fallen paper in your hand.

Blue stands and he motions towards his men. He snaps his fingers, “take care of this.” He turns looking out the window and he spots a waitress he’s had his eye on for some time. “Bring her to me, I have an itch I need to scratch,” he chuckles palming his hard dick.

Blue repeats looking at your lifeless body as the men carry you off, “she really was a knockout.”

ps....don’t spoil the ending for those who haven’t read it yet!!

tagging: @punkpascal, @sergeantkane, @pascalz, @wasicskosgirl, @tintinwrites, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @mandoplease, @mylifeliterally, @shadow-assassin-blix, @bisexual-space-slut, @writefightandflightclub

#blue jones #blue jones x reader #sucker punch #mob au #my writing #IT'S FINALLY DONE

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echo-hiraeth · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write either a peña or pike x agent!reader with “Where doesn’t it hurt then?” Where she’s been hiding direct threats to her safety?

Blind Dates - Marcus Pike x F! Agent Reader

The ending scene and prompt in and of itself were heavily inspired by this scene from “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark” as it’s one of my favourites: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFzxuEm9MyM

Prompts:

49: “Where doesn’t it hurt then.”

Masterlist

“Hey, I’m headed out for the night. Think you can manage on your own here?”, you asked, flashing him a smile.

Marcus looked up from his desk, mouth slightly agape. “N-no late-night hangout tonight?”

You slowly shook your head, approaching his desk. “While I’d love to spend the evening here with you, I happen to have some plans of my own."

He raised a brow at you: “Is that what that dress and lipstick is all about then? Who’s the lucky guy.”

“It’s not like that, Pike,” you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the surface of his desk. “Believe me I’d rather be stuck with you all night.”

“Your friend set you up again?”, he grinned, clearly amused over the fact that you were so visibly annoyed.

You threw your head back, letting out a whine. “I promised her I’d let her do one more of these. Fucking regret it though.”

“Oh poor you, having to have dinner at some fancy joint”, he mocked, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at you. “I’d kill for some of that right now.”

“By all means, fill in for me”, you smiled, hopping off his desk. “See you tomorrow?”

He bit his lip as he tried to bite back a flirtatious comment. “Yeah, be safe!”

You gave a small wave and walked out of his office, the smirk on your lips seemingly etched there. Marcus tended to have that effect on you, making you act like some crazed teenager when he’d join you at your desk late at night. But you’d promised your friend you’d go out with the guy she’d been raving about all of last week. So that’s where you set out to go.

Back in his office Marcus found himself extremely distracted. Because no matter how many times he tried to get back to the report he was reading, he just couldn’t get your crimson lips out of his head. Over the course of the last few months the two had gotten much closer, often spending late nights together at the very same desk. He lived for those nights where the two of you would get take-out and just enjoy each other’s company. It was all fine and in good fun until he started to develop these feelings for you. Every bone in his body was head over heels for you, but the fear of being rejected yet again and losing you was bigger than his desires to hold you even closer.

The fact that you were going out tonight made him even more nervous. Surely you wouldn’t just spend the night with your boss? There had to be some reason, some ulterior motive. Maybe you wanted a promotion? Your pay was good though, so it made no sense. Whatever it was, it was absolutely killing him.

As Marcus sat and contemplated every single thing about the past six months, you got out of your cab. The restaurant looked nice, nothing too expensive, just a casual outing. Taking one last deep breath you opened the door, crossing the threshold at last, there was no going back now. The waiter lead you to your table, where you were met with a handsome man, tan skin and a mature little stubble covering his sharp jaw. He looked just over thirty and seemed to be everyone’s dream but yours. It’s only for tonight – you thought to yourself, walking over and extending your arm.

“Was afraid you wouldn’t show”, he chuckled, shaking your hand as he went to stand.

You put your purse on the ground, moving to take a seat. “Got a little caught up at work.”

Well, that was a lie, unless contemplating on how to tell your boss and partner of a year that you had fallen for him. Before you waltzed into his office you’d spent just under an hour in the bathroom thinking of ways to hopefully talk to him about it and maybe even ask him out. But you’d chickened out as soon as you saw him through the cracked door, biting at his fingertip as he was sunken in thought. God, he was so handsome when he shifted in that work mode.

“Wine?”, your date asked, holding out a bottle to you.

“Yeah, sure”, you agreed, shifting your attention back to him once more, something about his face and voice seemed familiar but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

You made some small talk with the guy, finding out that he was independent business owner, what of you hadn’t a clue seeing how you couldn’t stop thinking about a certain someone. Dinner was good though and despite everything you ended up enjoying yourself but no matter how hard he tried, you knew he wasn’t it for you and that there was something off about all of it. At the end of the night he offered to split a cab, politely dropping you off first and parting ways with a kiss to your palm. You’d given him your number as a courtesy, not really expecting him to act on it.

Once back in your apartment you decided to go straight to bed, not wanting to think about it any longer. You were woken up early in the morning by a knocking at your door. Grabbing the nearest hoodie you slipped it on and headed for your front door, opening it to reveal:

“Marcus.. what’re you doing here so early?”, you questioned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

He stepped inside when you moved off to the side, letting him pass. “Well you didn’t text me back last night and I figured you’d appreciate some breakfast”, he reasoned, holding up the bag of bagels.

A content moan left your throat at the sight of the glorious buns. “You’re the fucking best”, you mused, pressing a kiss to his cheek before snatching the bag from his hands.

The morning was filled with soft laughter and a lingering brush of your fingers once or twice. The two of you internally screaming as you went into your bedroom to get changed. Marcus was beaming by the time you remerged, taking a mental note of how beautiful you looked in the early morning.

“You can ride with me if you’d like”, Marcus offered, nervously shifting with his hands in his pockets.

During work the two of you didn’t see much of each other, seeing how Marcus would be briefing to and with his higher-ups and how you were stuck researching the next group of art smugglers you’d be dealing with. You looked through heaps and heaps of paperwork; pictures and recordings. And that’s when you spotted him. That’s where you recognized him from, he was the son of the orchestrator of the smugglings.

You had to tell Marcus, you were fucking screwed if you were right. You tried desperately to get a hold of his phone but he seemed to have left the office early without saying goodbye. That’s when you started trying his personal number, fingers trembling as you stepped outside the building, calling over a cab. You got in without really looking, Marcus finally answering. When you blinked your eyes open and looked to your left you spotted the man, a handgun held in the palm of his hand.

“Hello?”, his voice sounded from your phone speakers.

He gestured for you to put him on speaker and talk to him.

“H-hi”, you answered, voice trembling.

Marcus huffed out a breathy laugh. “Six missed calls, did the office burn down or something?”

You let out a forced laugh. “I-I found a break in one of the cases but I forgot you were leaving for that conference”, you lied, screwing your eyes shut as you focused on not breaking down into sobs.

“I’ll be back by this weekend, we can meet at your place and you can tell me all about it”, he suggested and you could hear the smile on his lips through the phone.

A sniffle broke through as you went to answer him. “I’d like that.”

“Hey what’s the matter do you need me to-“

“Goodnight Marcus”, you interrupted, ending the phone call abruptly.

The man pressed his gun to your temple. “Fancy a second date?”

You were bound to one of your own kitchen chairs, eyes red from all the crying and pain you’d undergone at that point. The man Jacob Linetti, had been trying his hand at getting all the information you had on them out of you.

“What’s Pike’s next move?”, he asked, flipping a chair and having it land in front of you. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t make me hurt you even more.”

“I don’t know”, you lied, “I’m just his secretary, I just take care of his schedule.”

He struck you across the cheek, making you wince. “Don’t lie, bitch. I heard what you said in that fucking car. Now think again, Pike’s next move.”

“We only just got the case handed to us, we barely have anything”, you cried out, a new bruise already starting to form on your face.

It went on like that for a couple hours until finally he deemed you useless.

“Listen up princess. You will do as your told. Whatever happened here and will happen stays between us.”

You whimpered at his words, entire body shaking with fear despite the exhaustion you were experiencing.

“You call him tomorrow evening and tell him to meet you here. If you snitch on us I’ll slit that pretty little throat of yours and put a bullet through Pike’s skull myself.”

Meanwhile in his hotel room Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. That call was so fucking weird not to mention unlike you. He’d tried texting you but you once again didn’t reply. He just assumed you’d gone to bed. Well, that’s until you texted him back, at three in the morning.

Hey sorry, everything’s fine, just got caught up and fell asleep in front of the tv xx

He shook his head. You never watched tv, said it was too boring and that the commercials were too bothersome. But having been in the field for quite some time, he decided to play along.

It would be in your best interest not to text back, whether you were in danger or not, he’d wait until the morning and go from there.

You barely slept a wink, the bruises and contusions painfully distracting. Glancing in the mirror you noticed how beat up you actually looked. There was no way you could possibly play that off, so he made you call into work. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, your voice barely above a whisper from the intensity of last night.

His words rang through your ears. You didn’t want to put this on Marcus, you didn’t want him to come over, you didn’t want him to be in danger. But you soon realised that it didn’t really matter you did, he’d end up in the middle of this regardless.

Mind swinging by for a drink tonight?? Xx

His reply came quick.

Course not, see you later tonight x

As soon as he replied you felt terrible. It was a fucking set up and you knew it. But with the other man in the room, you knew you couldn’t do shit about it. Soon he snatched the phone out of your hands, leaving you a sobbing mess.

By that evening you’d been tied down, thrown onto your couch with three sets of eyes glued to you. They’d told you the plan more than once at this point and you knew it word for word. They untied you when one of their other informants texted them to let them know he was coming up. The familiar set of knocks at the door set your adrenaline off and as you reached to open the door you only opened it the slightest bit, gasping when you met his eyes.

You couldn’t think in that moment and just pleaded with him. “Run Marcus! Run!”

“You fucking bitch!”, Jacob snarled, yanking you to the floor by your hair.

Marcus kicked the door open, weapon pointed at one of the other two men. “Back up’s on the way over here, I suggest you drop your weapons.”

He knew he was in a tight spot, he’d need to stretch time for a couple of minutes and from the looks of it, Linetti and his gang were rather impulsive. It was at that moment you felt the ice cold feel on a gun being pressed to the back of your neck, Jacob hauling you in front of him, using you as a shield.

“This is what’s gonna happen, you’re letting me walk outta here or little miss sunshine gets lead.”

Marcus glared the man down, keeping his other eye on the two other men in the room. “I’m sorry pal, but that’s not gonna work out for me. Like I said, back up will be here any minute, whether you’re apprehended here or in that lobby, you’re not going anywhere.”

You opened your eyes, looking over at Marcus. “Please just-just let him Marcus.”

He looked at you for a split second, his heart aching at the sound of your voice. It was then he noticed one of the other men drawing a weapon of his own, without hesitation he shot him in the arm, causing all hell to break loose.

Jacob shot into the ceiling, while punching you in the gut, making Marcus turn his head in your direction once more. It was then the third man grabbed a hold of him, trying to disarm him. It was then Linetti was caught off guard, as you elbowed him in the chest. Marcus was preoccupied with fighting himself free of the other man’s grasp, intent on helping you. Jacob aimed his weapon at your partner and you quickly grabbed his wrist, yanking it away, another bullet whizzing through your small apartment. It was then Marcus yelped, throwing the man over his shoulder, making you look over. Before you could turn your head back around, Jacob hit you on the side of head with the butt of his gun, effectively knocking you out.

That was the last straw, Marcus charged at the criminal, tackling him to the ground as more FBI agents barged in through the door. As the man was pinned down by some fellow agents, he rushed over to you, kneeling down by your side and taking off his jacket to put it under your head.

“She got shot?”, one of them asked.

“No, but call in an ambulance just to be sure.”

When you came to you were laid on a stretcher outside of an ambulance, with two paramedics tending to you. You surged forward immediately, waving the two away.

“Alright, alright, let’s give her some room”, one of them said to the other, taking a few steps back.

You looked around you, noticing Marcus sitting on a curb, a light being flashed in one of his eyes. Your lip started trembling as you tried to call out to him, but you couldn’t manage to say anything, your throat dry and impossibly tight. He looked up and locked eyes with you, immediately excusing himself. He practically ran to you, wrapping his arms around you. It hurt – a whole lot – but you needed him more than anything else in that moment. You hid your face in his shirt, letting out a loud sob. Marcus felt like he could finally let out the breath he’d been holding, rubbing his one hand up and down your back as the other cradled your head.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’m here now, I’m gonna keep you safe.”

After a few tests back at the hospital you were finally discharged. You’d gotten off easy, a broken nose, some minor fractures and a lot of bumps and bruises. Marcus himself had sustained a cut on his face and a sprained wrist, but other than that he seemed to be just fine. In the emergency room he’d suggested you stay over at his and with some convincing you’d agreed. Since the both of you were in no shape to drive, a cab escorted you back to his.

“Remind me to never let my friend set me up”, you joked as you picked up a spoonful of pasta.

Marcus huffed out a breathy laugh, tilting his head at you. “So you won’t be parading around the office in pretty dresses anymore?”

You rolled your eyes. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”

Despite it being a playful quip, he couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. “I’m gonna miss it. They suited you.”

Now it was your turn to blush, bashfully looking away as you tried to hide it. “You flatter me Pike”, you murmured, smiling at him with your eyes.

“Want some more pasta? Water?”, he asked, his hands getting more clammy by the minute.

You let out a soft yawn, slowly shaking your head. “I’m okay, thanks.”

He carried your plate to the sink, glancing over his shoulder as you went to stand, a look of discomfort etched on your face, despite the heavy amount of pain medication coursing through your veins. “How about you get some rest, let those painkillers kick in?”

“I’d like that, have a spare bedroom?”, you questioned.

Marcus let out a prolonged sigh. “Well no- but I was planning on taking the couch anyway”, he rambled, gesturing towards the beat up couch with both arms.

You mouthed an ‘oh’, too scared to ask him if he’d just sleep alongside you. “Are you sure? Because I don’t mind.”

“No, no, no! You take the bed, you need all the comfort you can get right now.”

He followed you down the hall, showing you to the bathroom while he disappeared in his bedroom to make the bed for you. You shuffled into the room, a change of clothes held in your hand.

“I uh- I can’t quite change out of my shirt, if you wouldn’t mind?”

His eyes went wide as he looked at you. “Uh, sure.”

It was a little awkward, Marcus requesting you stood with your back to him as he didn’t want to invade your space. It made for a weird angle and soon you doubled over in pain and he got you out of your dirty shirt. He quickly walked around, supporting you, landing him another moan.

“Shit – I’m so sorry!”, he sputtered out, throwing his hands over his eyes as he realised you were in fact topless.

You huffed out an awkward laugh, using the awkward angle to get one arm in the shirt, covering up your chest. “I’ll need you to do the other arm, just make it quick, it’s gonna hurt no matter what.”

He did as he was told, carefully yet in a fast motion (with closed eyes of course) guiding your arm through the whole and tugging it down for you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you-“, he started after you told him to open his eyes.

“Marcus”, you smiled, “It’s not your fault, I’m black and blue, it was bound to happen.”

He nodded slowly, giving you a once over. “Well, if you need anything else, just let me know.”

As he turned to walk out the door you clenched your fists. “Actually”, you called out, “would you mind staying with me? It’s just that I don’t want to be alone.”

To say that he was taken aback would’ve been an understatement. “Of course! Yeah, just get settled, I’ll get ready for bed.”

You smiled before getting into the bed, biting your lip to stifle any further sounds or indications of pain and/or discomfort. Meanwhile Marcus was furiously brushing his teeth with his good wrist, freshening up and combing through his hair before coming back. He wore actual pyjamas, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by just being in briefs. When he climbed in next to you he made sure to do it slowly and carefully, not wanting to dip the mattress too much.

“How’s this?”, he asked, pointing towards the space between the two of you.

“If I’m asking too much just tell me, but.. do you think you could hold me?”, you asked quietly, anxiously awaiting his response.

His stomach was doing summersaults as he nodded, a grin spreading across his luscious lips. As he scooted closed he noticed the way your jaw clenched.

“Fuck – I don’t want to hurt you though.”

You splayed a hand across his chest as you let him come closer. “It’s okay, pretty much everything hurts, I’d rather hurt in your arms.”

He gave you a curious look, a hint of mischief sparkling in his gorgeous brown eyes. “Well, where doesn’t it hurt then.”

You wiggled your fingers, sighing: “My hands are doing pretty good.”

He took them in his, pressing a kiss to each palm. “Where else?”

The blush you felt creeping up was not to be denied at this point. “My elbow.”

He gently manoeuvred your arm around, pressing a lingering kiss to the skin of your elbow. “Hmm?”

“Here”, you whispered, laying a finger on your lips.

One of his hands cupped your jaw as he leant over you, closing his eyes before tenderly pressing his soft lips to yours. “How’s that feel?”

“Better. But you might need to do it again”, you answered, lips curling up into an adorable smile.

“Say no more.”

#marcus pike #the mentalist #pedro pascal #marcus pike x reader #request #prompt

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babyspiderling · 4 years ago

Text

Little Red Corvette p.2 Michael Jackson x reader

(Bad Era)

Eight Months Later (1983)

I did this pregnancy on my own. My mother was appalled at the fatherless child growing inside of me and refused to support me through my pregnancy. The struggles and frustrations for the past nine months very easily justified when I held my baby boy in my arms. His skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his eyes deep and pulling like his fathers. Looking down at the tiny human finally in the world, there was no question or doubt in my mind who the father was. By blessing or curse, I was the only one who knew who the father was. Relatively early in my pregnancy, Michael released a video for one of his songs "Billie Jean". I sat and stressed over the possibility of him knowing of the child in my womb for weeks, but nothing came of it. No managers offering hush money, no reporters asking about the legitimacy of the child inside of me, nothing, so life went on. Looking down at the life in my arms, snuggled towards me I spoke softly. "Edward Michael L/N. My little blessing."

1986

It wasn't too long after Edward, or Eddie was born that I went back to work. I hired a sitter, or depending on the client, brought him in with me. Whitney Houston and Cher absolutely gushed over him during breaks. When Eddie was three, I got a call from Quincy Jones asking me to help him out on the mixing on an album. I agreed and found someone to watch my son while I worked. Quincy didn't tell me who I was hired for and I didn't want to seem unprofessional to whoever Quincy was working with. I kissed my three year old good-bye and got into my car to head to the studio they were using. "Bye Blessing! Mommy's going to work, but I'll be home soon. I love you so much!" I drove through the California traffic to the studio and parked my car near the front. I checked myself in the mirror before making my way inside.

"Y/N! You made it! Where's Eddie? You know you can bring him any time? Little dude has got potential if you ever want him to get into our world." I laugh at Quincy's antics. "Yeah, I know you love Eddie. Thank you for the compliment, but he's three, Q. He's not going into show business any time soon." Q shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the soundboard in his rolling chair. "Alright, let's get down to business shall we?" He nods and presses play on the vocals. I feel the blood drain from my face as a familiar voice croons from the speakers.

"I don't care what you talkin' 'bout baby, I don't care what you say. Don't you come walkin' beggin' back mama,I don't care anyway"

I stand stock still in shock, flashes of our one night together, my isolated pregnancy, my little boy waiting at home for me. I yank myself out of it with a sharp gasp when Q places a hand on my elbow, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Hey, Y/N, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?" I swallow and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm fine Q. I don't know what that was. How're we mixing this one?" He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a large sigh. "Yeah, about that. Smelly's really particular on how he wants each track to sound on this album. He wants his voice to be layered in a harmony with himself during the chorus. He's recorded the audio, now it's our turn to get it just the way he wants." I nod and sit down in my own chair, slipping the large, bulky headphones over my ears to start working. The sooner I can finish working on Michael's album the better.

"Alright! Two music heads working on that was much faster than just me. I've got a few more tracks to work on before the release of the album. You good to come in say, day after tomorrow? Early morning so we can get a lot done. And bring Eddie. I miss my godson." I laugh and roll my eyes, giving Quincy a playful shove on the shoulder. "Works for me. And yes, I'll bring Eddie if the 'Client' won't mind a toddler running around the studio space while we work." Q chuckles and reclines in his chair. "No, he won't mind. I have a feeling you know who we're working for here?" I nod, and grab my purse off the ground. "Alright, you know it's Michael. I promise he won't mind. He loves kids" I nod, not really looking forward to potentially forcing Michael into Eddie's life out of obligation. I drive home reflecting on the strange chain of events that brought me here in the first place. I pull into the driveway and unlock the door. I drop my things on the floor where I stand and catch my little boy running into my arms. "Mommy! Me and April painteded! Come see! Come see!" He wiggles out of my arms and drags me to the fridge by my wrist. He bounces where he stands as I look at his painting. It was surprisingly detailed for a three year old. I smile proudly at him as I turn to my sitter, April. "Thank you for watching him so last minute. I really appreciate it." She just smiles at me and grabs her purse from the table. "Oh, Ms. L/N, it's really no trouble. Eddie is just the best kid ever. He was so funny during lunch. I had the radio playing while we ate and he just sat there, dancing in his seat. He didn't even realize he was doing it! But honestly, he is the easiest kid I have ever watched." I pay her and walk her out to her car parked on the street. I turn back to Eddie with a smile. "Wanna eat and watch a movie tonight with Mommy?" My blessing nods his head so hard and fast, I think it'll fly off like a bobble head with a loose spring. "Alright bud, what do you want for dinner?" "PIZZA!" I chuckle at my little boy. "Alright, pizza it is."

I buckle Eddie in the backseat, and climb into the front seat myself. "We're gonna see Uncle Q today buddy! Mommy has to make some music, but you get to hang out with us!" He kicks his legs in the air and gives a shout of excitement. "Yay Uncle Q!" I turn on the radio and look over my shoulder to pull out of the driveway to get to the studio. Parking, I pull the keys out of the ignition and grab Eddie, reminding him to put his backpack on. I hold his hand as we make our way to the studio, the front empty. I sit Eddie down on the chair and go to grab a cup of coffee from the lobby. "I'll be right back baby. I'm gonna get some coffee, and find Uncle Q ok?" He nods and swings his legs in the chair. I hand him the truck from his bag and kiss his forehead before leaving.

I bumped into Quincy in the hall after getting my coffee and went back to the studio space together. When we opened the door, a slim caramel skinned man was kneeling before my son, talking and laughing with him. At the sound of the door opening, Eddie glanced at us. "Mommy! Uncle Q! I made a new friend! His name is Michael, like me!" I widen my eyes in shock at his innocent chatter. Quincy scoops up his godson and chuckles. "Oh yeah Eddie? And what did you guys talk about?" Eddie wraps his arms around Q's neck. "We talked about drawing! Michael is very really good at coloring!" Q humors his godson, chuckling at the boy who has him wrapped around his little finger. While the two talk Michael lifts himself from the ground and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Michael. I don't think we've been introduced." He sticks out his hand and I feel conflicted. I was so afraid of him noticing me, connecting the dots, but it hurt a bit that I meant so little to him. In his defense, it was one night, four years ago. I grasp his hand and introduce myself again. "Y/N. I'm mixing for your album with Q. You've already met my son, Eddie." He shakes my hand, and smiles back at Eddie. "He's a joy. I was recording and didn't know he was here. I look up and little guy's just dancing in his seat like crazy. He was just coloring on a blank sheet of paper. Sweet kid." I nod and swallow. "Let's get to work, shall we?" Michael nods and goes to the soundboard to listen to the new version of "Leave Me Alone". I watch Michael bob his head to the rhythm, as Eddie dances in the corner. I nibble and pull on my lips in a nervous tick. The music fades out and Michael looks at Q and I with a smile. "Awesome guys! Just what I wanted. I want Y/N as my mixer for the rest of the album. That good Quincy?" Quincy bounces Eddie in his lap, grinning. "Of course it's good! Gotta teach my godson the ropes right?" I smile and ruffle Eddie's hair lovingly, nodding along. Q, Eddie, and I occupy the main front of the studio space as Michael goes back to record another track.

The day goes by quickly, Q leaving the three of us alone to grab lunch. I sit at the recording desk and write down a few lyrics here and there, a melody and message in my head dying to get out. I glance over at my son and see him and Michael goofing around. I smile sadly, imagining what our lives would be like if Michael didn't leave that morning, if he knew he had a son with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the two until my son met my eyes, causing him to run to me in a comforting manner. "Mommy, what's wrong?" I shake off the sadness and force a smile on my face to keep my caring boy from worrying over me. "I'm fine baby. Just a bit tired. It may be Mommy's nap time soon." He nods and giggles, kissing my cheek before going back to Michael. Michael picks up Eddie, placing him on his hip, and walks towards me. 'Hey, Y/N, if you want, you can take a nap in the recording studio. I've got a couch back there. I can come and get you when Quincy comes back with lunch. I try to turn down his offer, but a yawn interrupts my objection. Michael gently guides me to the studio and sits me down on the couch, exiting and turning the lights out on the way. Against my wishes, I close my eyes and succumb to the peace of sleep.

I groggily pulled myself from the depths of dreamland at the sounds of people talking and laughing. I heard Eddie and Michael talking and it immediately caught my attention. "So, your mom makes music, your Uncle Q makes music, what does your dad do?" I peek out from the window and see Eddie and Michael sitting on the floor, rolling toy trucks around, a takeout container setting on the desk. "I don't know. I don't have a dad. Mommy plays Mommy and Daddy. She goes to all my games, plays with me, teaches me how to put on shoes." From where I stand, I can't see Michael's face, and I decide now is a good time to get back out there. I open the door and both boys look up at me. I glance at my watch and see that it's about time to go home. "Hey, sorry I slept so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" Michael shrugs and stands. "You looked so peaceful while you slept. Didn't want to wake you, let alone let you drive home tired. Lunch got here not too long ago so your food should still be warm. I was actually about to head home myself if you're ok with coming in tomorrow instead? We can keep working." I nod and grab my container. "In case I get here before you, what are you wanting to do with the other tracks?" I eat my food as he goes over what he wants to be done with a couple other songs to be put on the album. Now finished with my food, I throw away my empty container, asking Eddie to pack up so we can head home. Before we leave, Q comes back in, sad that we have to leave so soon. I promise to bring Eddie back tomorrow if that's alright with Michael, which it of course is. I give a hug to Q, and an awkward hug/handshake maneuver to Michael. Eddie practically tackles the both of the men in hugs and races to grab my hand. As we leave, I can faintly hear Michael tell Q "She seems so familiar, like I've met her before."

Taglist: @accio-boys

#michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #80's series #80s imagines #80's imagine #80's x reader #80's fanfiction

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