#I feel like a lot of articles talk around the pace piece | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaistarus · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head.

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya yū #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu!!

289 notes · View notes

d-criss-news · 3 years ago

Text

20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10. How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11. What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12. If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19. What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

#darren criss #billboard #masquerade ep #press #sept 2021

64 notes · View notes

simpingfortheages · 3 years ago

Text

//OH BABY BUT I DO//

Billie Dean Howard x Fem Reader

( SMUT, BEGGING,ANGST story with a twist just read it )

Love is everylasting. It's fun, because that's what they tell us in story books.

Billie stumbled through the doorway of our house. She held her pair of black heels loosely on her index acryliced finger. " Hey baby" she shouted into the empty room," in the kitchen " I replied. I heard her bare feet running along the board floor to find me,not before she threw her heels into the corner. I was currently popping open a bottle of champagne and pouring it into 2 wine glasses. Billie came struting into the kitchen with a big smile plastered on her beautiful face. As she made her way towards me I held one of the glasses out to her." Here Billie babe to new beginnings" I cheered. With no hestiation Billie took the glass and clicked it with mine. We simultaneously downed the glasses within seconds, " so how was your day?"I asked. "It was good,we got a lot done and we also finished two and a half episodes" she said with delight. "That's so good Bil" I commented. We sat in silence,except for the fact that Billie was tapping her newly yellow acryliced nails on the surface of the counter. She was impatient but i wasn't going to make the first move. With a loud exasperated huff,Billie practically launged herself towards me,capturing her lips on mine. The kiss becamed heated very quickly, her hands became entangled in my hair while mine gripped her waist,pulling her closer.

Billie pulled her tan skirt over her thighs and did a little jump to wrap her long toned legs round my waist. I held her up by her thighs, I could have felt how needy she was because her core was now pressed against the thin material of my shirt. I smirked into the kiss. I made my way up carefully up the stairs, as i did so, I broke the kiss to see where I was going. A needy whined left Billie's plump lips, while I ascended the stairs, Billie left love bites on my neck. It didn't take me long to reach our bedroom. I roughly threw her on her bed. I stopped to take in the sight of her. Her chest rising and falling, her hair was a mess but a mess in a sexy manner. She was currently trying to unbutton her shirt and kick off her stockings along with her skirt. I chuckle left my lips at her struggle. I crawled up the bed and helped her undress. Billie now left in only her matching black underwear and bra,she pulled me down onto her form. My blood boiled at the fact that she still wanted me, the audacity the medium had. I forcefully swallowed my emotions and proceeded to removed her remaining articles of clothing. I slowly kissed her neck leaving marks on hers to match mine, she was so caught up in the moment she didn't seem to mind. Although i know after it all she will be frantic to cover the marks for tomorrow's episode . Billie never did like to show off the marks I left on her, she always complained about it being "unprofessional". I respected her choice up until tonight that is. I was determined to mark every part of her skin, to remind her of me. Billie Dean was never one to be but she was Oh so desperate and needy tonight. I couldn't deny her of what she really wanted. I made quick work of adorning her neck and chest area. I latched my soft lips on to her nipples and bite down, which caused a whimper and moan to rip through Billie's throath. I knew she liked it rough.

I kissed lower and lower along her bikini line until I reached her core. I pried open her legs to admire the mess I made. It really was a shame. I delicately traced my fingers over the constellation freckles that decorated her flawless skin. Billie really was a piece artwork, one that never ceases to draw everyone's attention. She was impatient. Very impatient, but I liked it that way. It seemed like she wanted me, needed me . "Y/N please touch me" Billie begged,she stared up at me with eyes filled with hope,longing and lust. I took my finger and ran it along her slit,collecting her slick. Billie's back arched off the bed into a pretty bow. The heels of her feet were digging into the mattress,as she pushed her hips up against my fingers that teased her entrance. I dipped the tips of my fingers into her dripping core,but not all the way in like she wanted, "beg me Billie" I demanded. Her head twisting against the pillow while her hands held a vice grip onto the covers. She managed to open her mouth," please fuck me y/n don't tease me any longer please" she said desperately. I plunged my fingers deep into her warm core, pulling in and pushing out of her slowly. The feeling of her velvet walls hugging my fingers were euphoric. It was a perfect fit, " You want more don't you Billie?" I teased. Billie couldn't find her voice, instead she nodded her head vigrously. Her once perfectly curls were now unrecognizable as the back of her head rubbed on the pillow. "Use your words Bil, I'm not a spirit who can read your mind" I teased further more, coaxing her to speak. "More y/N plea-please more" she spoke as her small voice cracked. I added a third finger into her tight cunt. Billie threw her head back onto the pillow and immediately grabbed my wrists. Mewls and moans filled the already thick atmosphere. I never stopped moving my hands. My movements only got faster and faster as her nails dug into my wrist, she tried so very hard to keep herself grounded but failed in doing do. I curled my fingers to reach her sweet spot,as I did so I pressed my thumb against her neglected clit. The combination of Billie being stretched by my fingers and the attention on her clit was too much for her to handle. " Y/N I'm- I'm gonna-" her words were cut off as waves of pleasure washed over her. The medium's eyes rolled back to the back of her head as her mouth was left open ,as her high ended a loud moan filled the room. I slowed pulled my fingers out but i didn't stop rubbing her until she calmed down.

After a few seconds when Billie calmed down. I flopped on the side on her on the bed causing her naked body to jiggle with my movements. I leaned over the bed and grabbed a couple of tissues to wipe my hands clean of Billie. This didn't go unnoticed by the medium as a look for perplexion made its was onto her face. How cute she looked. Usually I would tell her how good she tasted or I would let her taste herself. However she didn't question the act. She propped herself on her side and began running her fingers through my hair. All the while, raking her nails along my scalp. That was the best feeling. It wasn't long until her hand started to drift towards my waist band,most likely to return the favour.

Out of reflex I grabbed her wrist at a halt. " Bil i know" was all I said, Billie sat upon the bed, now alert of my words. " Y/N what's are you talking about?" She questioned with her eyebrows furrowed. " I know about you and" I swallowed thickly. I wanted to yell at her but i didn't " about you and your new assistant" I spat out the last line. Billie's eyes were wide as ever. The look of horror dawned upon her face. That expression on her face was the frosting on the cake. Her complexion was purely white. The red blush that crept upon her face from our love making was now gone. "Why Billie?" I asked with emotion heavy in my voice. "Baby i- I didn't mean too"she stuttered. "Didn't mean too?? Billie you slept with her on our bed. I fucking know because if you tried to listen to me last week. I told you I recently installed cameras. You know since you are a well known celeb now" my voice raised in its level causing her to jump. "How could you Bil? I thought you loved me" I choked out. "Baby but i do" she tried to comfort me but i knew the truth. "It was a dumb mistaken, I wasn't thinking straight Y/N please" she begged as she grabbed onto the front of my shirt to not make me move away. The vice grip she had on me made nail indents into my chest. I didn't care about it, the pain of my breaking heart had hurt more. "No Billie, a mistake is bumping into someone, what you did was for spite. You were thinking straight. And I am 100% sure you would have continued if I never found out. " the dam of tears didn't break. I felt numb.Billie Dean Howard broke me. " Y/N No that's not true. I don't love anyone else but You. I love you alone." She sobbed. Tears cascaded down her cheekbones. In another time I would be the one to wipe those tears away and place kisses upon her wet skin, but that was another time. " fuck off Bilie, don't sell me bullshit. You think i am dumb? I know you have slept with her more. Not only at home. IN OUR HOME! But I am sure you have at work. Don't you think i notice the different perfumes ?? Or the fact that your makeup is well applied,almost too applied when you come home." I raged.

My heart hurt, the veins in my head were throbbing at this point. "Y/N listen to me, I wasn't thinking, it was only twice I swear and I promise you I will never ever do anything like that to hurt you." At this point I was getting off the bed, trying to get the hell away from her as possible. Billie followed me off the bed trying to grab onto me again. I shrugged her off and threw some pajamas towards her body to get dressed. " you're barely home anymore Billie,you didn't even see that all my clothes are gone. You don't have time for me. It's not like I am asking you to choose between work or me. I am just saying make time for me" I continued to rant as I paced up and down the carpet." I will baby I promise. I will fire her and get someone else" she tried to resonant with me as she sloppily tried to dress herself. "Billie. I don't care what you do anymore...." I whispered. The dam cracked,tears slowly started to trickle down my face. Billie ran up to me and wrapped her arms around me, plastering kisses all over my face, mumbling, apologies. I gently took her arms and unwrapped them from me. She cried out my name as I did so. " And to think I was going to propose and wanted to start a family with you" Billie stayed silent. Her eyes were waterfalls at this point. Her bottom lip never stopped wobbling. " please Y/N I know I fucked up but I promise you I will never do that again." She recited over and over. " like how you promised to love me?"I snapped. " BUT I DO LOVE YOU" the medium screamed "I am sorry Billie but I cannot do this anymore" I whimpered. " No no y/n you are not going to leave me!!" Billie demanded and she stomped her foot on the floor like a toddler. I ran a hand through my hair to try and neaten my appearance as i fixed my clothes infront the mirror. " And to think Billie that you of all people couldn't recognise the demon living inside you all along...". A gasp escaped her throath and added to the tension in the room. " you- you don't mean that" she cried silently. I slowly walked up to her and gently tucked a curl behind her ears, " oh but baby I do". Billie locked her eyes on me as tears fell from her face. "I'll get you back one day Y/N just you see, I love you and I mean it." She hiccupped. "Maybe...maybe not,but right now Billie I cannot be with you." I cried out. She slowly nodded her head and wiped her face with the back of her hands. "One day we will be a family y/n I swear on it and we Will be together again as we should" Billie promised. Unfortunately I believed her words, I left Billie standing in a room that was once ours. I fought the urge to run back and comfort her, but she broke my heart. I deserved better, yet part of me couldn't help but want her to be true to her words. I still love Billie deep down and always will ..after all she is Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars... she's my star.

#billie dean howard #billie dean x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson characters #angst fic #smut #sarah paulson fanfic #Sarah Paulson x reader

88 notes · View notes

lilsuzn · 4 years ago

Text

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T. (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do...

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything.

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility.

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can.

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure.

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc hc #mlqc headcanon #mlqc lucien #mlqc smut

181 notes · View notes

causeiwanttoandican · 4 years ago

Text

The Times

Prince William’s close friends on what makes him tick — and why he’s not trapped

March 20 2021, 6:00pm

As the world devours the Harry and Meghan interview, what’s going on with the brother who was left behind? He’s embracing his destiny, William’s close friends tell the Sunday Times royal correspondent, Roya Nikkhah

Next month Prince William will celebrate his tenth wedding anniversary — the day he became a duke and embarked on the most formative decade of his life. Back then, the tentative 28-year-old newlywed was not ready to devote himself entirely to royal duties. A decade on, he is in a very different position.

The job of being the heir to the heir to the throne, of finding a balance between life and duty, is difficult at the best of times. These are not the best of times. In their bombshell interview with Oprah Winfrey this month the Duke and Duchess of Sussex accused the royal family and the institution around it of racism and callous disregard for a suicidal newcomer, among many other damning charges. Harry the spare also declared that William was trapped within “the system … My brother can’t leave that system, but I have.”

In the immediate aftermath of the interview William was “reeling”, a source close to the duke says. “His head is all over the place on it.” Four days after the Sussexes had their say, he hit back during an engagement with the Duchess of Cambridge at a school in east London. Asked about accusations of racism, William retorted with restrained fury: “We’re very much not a racist family.” He also confirmed that he hadn’t spoken to Harry yet, “but will do”. By the weekend it emerged they had “been in contact”.

William is thought to have been less than thrilled a few days later when that conversation made global headlines after the American presenter Gayle King, a close friend of the Sussexes, revealed live on air that it had not been an easy chat: “I did actually call them to see how they were feeling,” she told viewers. “Harry has talked to his brother and he had talked to his father too. The word I was given was that those conversations were not productive.” The intervention prompted a senior royal source to say that “none of the households will be giving a running commentary on private conversations”.

A close friend of both brothers says Harry’s “trapped” comment was “way off the mark”, insisting that William does not see it that way. “He has a path set for him and he’s completely accepting of his role. He is very much his grandmother’s grandson in that respect of duty and service.”

When the Queen turned 90 nearly five years ago William admitted “the challenge” that “occupies a lot of thinking space” is how to “modernise and develop” the royal family, and make it “relevant in the next 20 years’ time”. Twenty years now seems like a very long time. In the hours and days after the Oprah broadcast, William was at the heart of all discussions with the Queen and the Prince of Wales about how to respond to the Sussexes. He was keen that the issue of race should be acknowledged in the Queen’s statement as an area of particular concern that “will be addressed”.

William has always railed against being a “ribbon-cutter royal” and the issues he champions — mental health, battling racism in football, homelessness and his ramped-up eco-warrior role — are a window into where the future King William V will take the House of Windsor. A friend says: “He’s a small-c conservative. He values tradition and the need to go around the country, but he realises he can make a difference beyond traditional royal duties.”

Today royal popularity is, to put it mildly, in a state of flux, but William’s strategy has been working. Post-Oprah, he ranks just below the Queen at the top of a YouGov poll of royals. Not so long ago such a position looked like a long shot, when the “workshy Wills” and “reluctant royal” tags plagued him and he was clocking up fewer days of royal work than his nonagenarian grandparents. Pictures of him hitting the ski slopes and clubs of Swiss resort Verbier in March 2017, missing a Commonwealth service that even the Duke of York flew back for, didn’t help.

After the lasting PR gold dust of the Cambridges’ 2011 wedding and the births of Prince George and Princess Charlotte, it was the first public nosedive for William, who was still working as an air ambulance pilot. “That pissed him off,” a friend says. “He was leaving home at 5.30am, getting home after dark and saving lives in between, but people were still being critical of his commitment to his [other] job.” William was based at Cambridge airport with East Anglian Air Ambulance for two years, where he was on call for “some very sad, dark moments”, often working “on very traumatic jobs involving children”. He later acknowledged that “after I had my own children … the relation between the job and the personal life was what really took me over the edge, and I started feeling things that I have never felt before”. But it was a job he loved, because of “working in a team … that’s something that my other job doesn’t necessarily do. You are more out there on your own.”

A former royal aide says: “Immediately after their wedding he had a very clear idea of the pace at which he wanted to take things.” William was adamant he wouldn’t curtail his day jobs, first as an RAF search and rescue helicopter pilot in Anglesey and then with the air ambulance. “If you’re not careful, duty can weigh you down an awful lot at an early age,” he said, insisting he didn’t “lie awake waiting or hoping” to be king. He delayed full-time royal duties until the autumn of 2017, when, acknowledging the Cambridges’ future required more time at “monarchy HQ”, they moved from Norfolk to London and George started school.

He’d had to fight his corner for the air ambulance role. A source close to William reveals “there were lots of raised eyebrows in the Palace when he wanted to do that. While the Queen and his father backed him, some senior courtiers questioned whether it was becoming of a future king to be doing a middle-class role, hanging out with ordinary people. They thought he wouldn’t stick it out, he’d find it boring, or was doing it out of stubbornness to put off royal duties. He was pretty bloody-minded about it, and determined that other people’s expectations in the media or the system shouldn’t get in the way of his own values.” In the wake of Harry and Meghan’s interview much has been speculated about the extent to which royal life is dictated by Palace officials, but it is clear that William has managed to forge his own path. Who knows how high those senior courtiers’ eyebrows rose in 2019, when William spent three weeks shadowing the spooks of MI5, MI6 and GCHQ to learn how they combat terrorism. He insisted on being called “Will” and lunching in the canteen every day.

Those closest to the duke say his resistance to the idea of full-time royal duties stemmed not only from a desire to achieve something for himself but also from a fear of the impact on his family life. Miguel Head worked alongside the prince for ten years until 2018, as William, Kate and Harry’s communications secretary and later as William’s private secretary. “In his role everyone’s going to tell you you’re marvellous,” Head says. “The RAF and air ambulance jobs were about knowing what his abilities were, what he was good at in his own right. Without that he’d still be hankering for something that was his own.” After children came along he says William developed a “visceral determination to give them a life of consistency and privacy that were missing for large parts of his own childhood”.

Another close aide says the plan enabling the Cambridges to have a few years of “normal” married life, away from the full-time glare of the royal spotlight, paid dividends: “For years, the battles around privacy and paparazzi intrusion were all-consuming. He wanted to know, could we build them a credible plan allowing them a family life while slowly increasing the profile of official life? It took years to get there, but the success of that plan allowed him to be confident and content in his role. He’s not worried about his kids’ privacy any more and he has been able to be the kind of dad he wants to be.”

“Marriage maketh the man,” a friend says. “Catherine’s groundedness has been the critical anchor. And where his relationship with the media was once all fury and frustration, he now understands using the power of modern media, so the public feel they’re getting enough access.”

The children’s birthdays are marked with photographs — often taken by the Duchess of Cambridge — and there has been a noticeable increase in their public appearances of late. While not “officially” staged, William was happy to let George and Charlotte be photographed at their first Aston Villa match with Mum and Dad in 2019. Pandemic set pieces have shown the family clapping for the NHS on the steps of Anmer Hall, their Norfolk home, and, before Christmas, their first red-carpet appearance together for an evening at the panto with key workers and their children.

As they celebrate their anniversary on April 29, friends who joined the Cambridges on their wedding day tell me the partnership’s equal footing is key to its success. “They’ve got a solid relationship and she gives him confidence,” one says. “There is no jealousy, no friction, they are happy for each other’s successes.” In private William talks as passionately about Kate’s work as his own campaigns, and takes pride in her growing confidence on the public stage.

William has said his grandmother’s approach to being head of state is to take “more of a passive role. She’s above politics and is very much away from it.” He doesn’t plan to meddle in party politics, but he was not happy about the unenviable position the government put the Queen in with the 2019 proroguing of parliament, which was later ruled to be unlawful and forced an apology from Boris Johnson to the monarch. Constitutionally the Queen had no alternative other than to act on the advice of her government, but in William’s reign there will be “more private, robust challenging of advice”. His last three private secretaries — Christian Jones, Simon Case, now the cabinet secretary, and Head — had all worked in government departments, helping William to keep his finger on the political pulse. The new incumbent, the Whitehall heavyweight Jean-Christophe Gray, who served as David Cameron’s spokesman, continues in that vein.

The former Conservative leader Lord Hague of Richmond was last year appointed as chairman of the Royal Foundation to develop William’s work on mental health, the environment and a raft of new support programmes for key workers. “People internationally and nationally respect his credibility and knowledge on these issues,” Hague says. “He’s very persuasive. You only see that behind the scenes. He knows what he wants and he goes out to get it.”

Charlie Mayhew, chief executive of the conservation charity Tusk, has known William since he was 20. In 2005 Tusk and Centrepoint, the homelessness charity championed by Princess Diana, were the first patronages William took on. “In those early years I kept having to pinch myself to remember how young he was,” Mayhew says. “He was much more mature than his age and very aware of his destiny coming down the track. He had a sincerity, but never without wicked humour. His teasing is merciless.”

William knows some people see his passion for conservation as a posh man’s part-time hobby, but Mayhew says the duke’s “genuine and huge knowledge” undermines that view. “He’ll call and WhatsApp to flag up something that I haven’t even seen in the conservation space. He can be impatient to get things done.” Last year William launched the Earthshot prize, a £50 million Nobel-style environmental award to galvanise solutions to global problems over the next decade. He believes “conservation and the environment … shouldn’t be a luxury, it’s a necessity”, Mayhew says. “That’s the drum he wants to beat. He’s got a megaphone and wants to use it in the most constructive way. He speaks for that next generation and I think they can relate to it.”

A turning point for William was his 2015 official visit to China, one of the world’s largest consumers of ivory, where he met President Xi and condemned the illegal wildlife trade as a “vicious form of criminality”. Unlike his father, who has refused to visit the People’s Republic over its human rights record and treatment of Tibet, William’s view was that despite the UK’s fractious relationship with China, “we’ve got to engage”.

“It was very political, raising the illegal wildlife trade in China. I’m sure the diplomats were having all sort of nightmares in advance,” says Mayhew, who joined the duke in China. “But he was gathering greater confidence that he had the ability to be a mouthpiece for the issue.” Mayhew reveals that while William was visiting Japan before China, he still hadn’t secured a meeting with Xi. “But when the Chinese saw all the high-level meetings he was having in Japan, they changed their minds and Xi made time for him.” Later that year, as Xi began a UK state visit, William appeared on Chinese television condemning the ivory trade. Two years later China banned the trade.

In 2018 he spent months prepping for his most high-stakes overseas visit yet, to Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories that summer. Navigating the diplomatic tightrope walk between Jerusalem and the West Bank, he visited a Palestinian refugee camp in Ramallah. As he travelled back to Jerusalem, he changed his speech for a reception with young Israelis and Palestinians to strengthen his solidarity with the latter: “My message tonight is that you have not been forgotten … The United Kingdom stands with you.” It was a bold move, but both sides hailed his visit a success and the officials breathed a sigh of relief. To the delight of the travelling press pack, William’s engagements on the final day were brought forward, allowing the diplomat duke and president of the Football Association to land back in the UK in time to watch England’s World Cup tie.

Ask him if he’s a peacemaker and William will laugh, saying Kate is the mediator. But according to a source close to William and Harry, his bridge-building skills were deployed in the lead-up to Harry and Meghan’s wedding in 2018, when tensions in the Kensington Palace household, then still shared by the brothers, were running high: “Every time there was a drama, or a member of staff on the verge of quitting, William would personally try and sort it out.”

As the brothers clashed more over the substance and style of their work, and the family hierarchy that William is a stickler for but Harry is less keen on, a split was inevitable. When they finally divided their households in March 2019, it had been a long time coming. But he never thought that a year later his brother would up sticks for America.

The pair went for a long walk to clear the air after the “Sandringham summit” when the Megxit deal was hammered out, but did not part shores as friends. What upset William the most was Harry and Meghan’s surprise launch of their “Sussex Royal” website before the summit, which featured their blueprint wish list of a part-time, commercial royal future. Later, when the Queen decreed they could no longer use “royal” in their future ventures, their website hit back with this bold statement: “While there is not any jurisdiction by The Monarchy … over the use of the word ‘Royal’ overseas, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex do not intend to use ‘Sussex Royal’ … or … ‘Royal’ …” Both “the content and that it’s still online is staggering”, a senior royal source says. “That was it for William, he felt they’d blindsided the Queen in such an insulting and disrespectful way,” says a source close to him, who reveals it was still at the forefront of William’s mind at the Commonwealth Day service one year ago. It was the Sussexes’ final engagement as working royals, and the froideur between them and the rest of the family was unmistakable.

It is a year since the Sussexes left for California and William misses Harry. “Once he got over the anger of how things happened, he was left with the absence of his brother,” an aide says. “They shared everything about their lives, an office, a foundation, meetings together most days and there was a lot of fun along the way. He’ll miss it for ever.” A close friend says William “definitely feels the pressure now it’s all on him — his future looks different because of his brother’s choices, it’s not easy.” Another friend says: “It’s still raw. He’s very upset by what’s happened, though absolutely intent that he and Harry’s relationship will heal in time.”

After lobbing bombs in his Oprah interview, Harry said: “I love William to bits … We’ve been through hell together … we have a shared experience … The relationship is space at the moment, and time heals all things, hopefully.” Harry would be wise not to set his stopwatch.

The first test will come this summer, when the brothers could be reunited for a series of family engagements including the Duke of Edinburgh’s 100th birthday and the Queen’s birthday parade in June. In July they are scheduled to unveil a statue of their mother at Kensington Palace, marking what would have been Diana’s 60th birthday, an emotionally charged occasion with the world watching.

While a chasm has opened up between the brothers, William has grown closer to the Queen and Prince Charles. He has helped them to navigate their way through Megxit, Prince Andrew’s removal from public life following the Jeffrey Epstein scandal and, now, the Oprah controversy. “That has changed the way the Queen sees him and values his input,” a courtier says. William also feels his relationship with his grandmother has “massively improved” in recent years and their views are “more aligned than ever”.

Friends say there has also been a “renaissance” in William and Charles’s relationship. “As the years passed there were strains imposed by the system — money, work, competition, Diana,” one says. “Part of William’s evolution is that as he has become closer to his father, he sees their similarities. At William’s wedding there was a gag in one of the speeches that he was more like his father than he’d ever admit, which made a lot of us laugh. As their respective destinies get closer, it weighs more heavily on them and strengthens the bond. The rift with Harry has also brought them closer.”

William is said to hate “flummery”, though the role of future king comes with plenty of bowing and scraping. But in 2017, for the first time publicly, he didn’t get his way. As a new parent worried about rising teenage suicide rates, he had spent a year convening a Cyberbullying Taskforce with big cheeses from tech and social media giants including Facebook, Snapchat, Apple, Google and Twitter. He wanted them to adopt industry-wide guidelines creating safer online spaces for children. According to William the meetings at Kensington Palace got “fruity” and the tech giants didn’t come close to the change he wanted. He was furious.

Tessy Ojo, chief executive of the Diana Award youth charity, sat on the taskforce. “He was deeply disappointed,” she says. “He didn’t come into it as ‘the duke’, he gave emotional pleas as a father.” William has since publicly condemned social media giants for their “false choice of profits over values” and privately offered support to the family of Molly Russell, who took her life at 14 after viewing images of self-harm online. Ojo believes it is William’s “lived experience of the fragility of life that guides the work he does”.

It also shapes the way he and Kate are raising their family. William has said he is determined that the grandchildren Diana never knew should “know who she was and that she existed”. He “constantly” talks to his children “about Granny Diana” at bedtime, so that they know “there are two grandmothers in their lives”. Earlier this month on Mother’s Day, Kensington Palace’s social media feeds published George, Charlotte and Louis’s cards paying tribute to “Granny Diana”, revealing it is an annual ritual for the Cambridge children. After a difficult few weeks for William, a line in Charlotte’s card provided poignant insight into how he is feeling: “Papa is missing you.”

He is on course to be a more modern monarch than any before him, but William is still a creature of habit at heart. He has the same tight circle of friends from his schooldays, one of whom says that, with William, “it’s all about trust and loyalty”. He plays five-a-side football in his Villa socks when he can, goes to the Chelsea Harbour Club gym he went to as a child with his mother and has a “smart casual” public uniform of chinos, jacket, blue shirt and no tie.

“William’s not trying to be down with the kids,” a friend says. “He never wants to be painted as irrelevant or dull, though he’s allergic to being compared to celebrities. The public doesn’t always get to see his funny side, but otherwise he’s the same in private as in public. He once said, ‘I’ll be in the public eye all my life. I can’t hide who I am because I’ll be found out.’ ”

In 2019, during a visit to a youth homelessness charity supporting LGBT people, William was asked how he would feel if one of his children was gay. “Absolutely fine,” he replied. “I fully support whatever decision they make, but it does worry me from a parent’s point of view how many barriers, hateful words, persecution and discrimination might come.” Such a personal exchange was a radical departure from royal engagement small talk. But William, the first in his family to be photographed for the cover of a gay magazine, had personally put the issue on the agenda.

As president of Bafta he gave the academy a diplomatic dressing down in his speech at last year’s ceremony, expressing his “frustration” over the lack of diversity: “In 2020, and not for the first time in the last few years, we find ourselves talking again about the need to do more to ensure diversity in the sector and in the awards process — that simply cannot be right in this day and age.” The 2021 nominees announced this month suggest his words hit home.

William “thinks the public look to him to keep royal work looking modern”, a confidante says. “The Queen and Prince of Wales are providing continuity and stability. He’s carving out his own relationship with diverse communities. He sees it all as a way of doing things now that will help a smooth transition when the time comes.”

Since the start of the coronavirus pandemic, as a former frontline worker himself, William has led the royal charge supporting key workers. “Now, more than ever, he knows what his role in public life is, and he sees the value in it,” a close aide says. Chatting to NHS workers in January, William said: “Something that I noticed from my brief spell flying the air ambulance … is that when you see so much death and so much bereavement, it does impact how you see the world … as a … darker, blacker place.” Soon after the first lockdown was announced, the Cambridges’ Royal Foundation launched Our Frontline, a round-the-clock mental health and bereavement service for key workers.

Miguel Head says the future King William will continue to campaign on his big issues: “I can’t see him backing away from causes he’s passionate about. And while he’s not someone who loves ceremony, he knows the importance of it. When he gets the top job he won’t do away with it all. He’s mindful the monarchy represents something timeless that’s above all of us, and many people like the magic and theatre of it.”

Roya Nikkhah

Roya is royal correspondent at The Sunday Times. Over more than a decade she has covered royal events for the BBC, interviewed the Prince of Wales and Prince Harry and presented the films Prince William, Monarch in the Making and Meghan and Harry: The Baby Years.

#William #TeamQueen #TeamWilliam #TeamCambridge

166 notes · View notes

jmnjmnjmn · 4 years ago

Text

Celebrity Crush| part 1 | BTS x Reader mini series

Pairing: BTS x Celebrity!Reader

Key words: celebrity crush, singer, idol.

Word count: around 8,000

Masterlist

Okay, this one is just regular fluff, but it definitely has potential to become more juicy, maybe even angsty... I had many ideas when I was writing it, but decided upon cutting it where I did. Maybe there will be part two to this story, maybe not. If there will be it will also probably be able to functionas a totaly separate one shot. Also I couldn’t decide on a ship here! Initially it was supposed to be RM, but I kept coming back to JK (my bias xd). That’s where possibility of an angst story lays... Anyway tell me what you think of this piece!

“AH!” Namjoon exclaimed, dropping his spoon down into his soup.

“Hey, watch it! You’re spilling everything!” Seokjin yelled back at him as some of his friend's soup splashed out from his bowl.

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, sipping his soup slowly and looking at Namjoon with curiosity.

“It’s-It’s (Y/N).” He stuttered out, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He was scrolling through Twitter when he noticed a tweet from his favourite female artist, (Y/N), announcing her world wide tour.

“What? Did she message you?” Seokjin asked him with a chuckle, knowing well that wouldn’t happen.

“I wish.” Namjoon scoffed and clicked on a link to an article some music site posted immediately after reading (Y/N)’s tweet. “(Y/N) has announced details of her long-awaited world tour.” He read out loud to his friends already feeling his heartbeat pick up. “The singer has continuously updated her fans on the details, promising them that she was working on the announcement. Now, via a short video on Instagram simply captioned ‘Hello world’, she has finally revealed when and where the No Limitations tour will be starting off. You can see the full dates, which she simultaneously posted on her Twitter account, below.” He quickly scrolled down to take a look at the dates and locations. His jaw dropped as he scanned down the list and noticed the Asia leg of the tour. “Soul is on the list.” He muttered. “In January. Seoul is on the list.” He repeated looking at his friends with wide eyes.

“Finally!” Hoseok exclaimed reaching across the table to pat him on the shoulder. “You can go see her then.”

“It hasn’t been announced when tickets will go on sale.” Namjoon said in panic as he frantically searched the internet for information about the tour.

“I’m sure our staff can get you in there without a ticket.” Seokjin said casually, but Namjoon took the matter very seriously. (Y/N) wasn’t just someone who’s music he liked. He also had a huge crush on her as a girl in general and he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity to see her perform live.

“I have to talk to our PD about that.” He said in an excited tone and clicked his Messages app to draft up a passionate yet professional text saying how much he wants, no, needs to go to (Y/N)’s Seoul concert.

“Now?” Seokjin asked, taken aback a little by his fast pace.

“No time to waste. It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about.” Namjoon chuckled. “If all goes well maybe we could work on some music together.”

“Yeah and maybe something more.” Hoseok teased him, earning a loud laugh from Seokjin. Namjoon only smiled up at them from his phone, because among those who followed the news about BTS it was a well known fact that he had a thing for (Y/N).

Whenever they would get asked about their celebrity crushes in interviews he would say (Y/N)’s name. Ideal girl - someone like (Y/N). A song they could listen to on loop - (Y/N)’s latest single. Fashion inspiration at the moment - (Y/N). Favourite movie - that one (Y/N) had a cameo in for like three minutes. It would happen so much that ARMY’s started making compilations of him talking about her on YouTube called “Namjoon drooling over (Y/N) for 7 minutes straight” and so on. At first he was embarrassed about it, but after some time that awkward feeling turned into hope that maybe she’ll see it and fall for him as well. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he still liked to imagine the moment you would message him saying you would love to collab on a song.

“I’m going to go talk to our PD.” Namjoon said, as he took off the bright pink sunglasses with Happy New Year written on top of them in a silly font. He wore them for the small photoshoot they just had for BTS’s New Year’s Eve post on Twitter.

“Now?” Jimin asked him, raising his brows. He was still wearing his party hat he put on for the session. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“I know. I just-” He was interrupted by Taehyung’s loud cheer. “I’ll be right back.” Jimin just shook his head at his eagerness to find out whether (Y/N)’s staff has already answered BigHit’s request for letting Namjoon go to your show with a backstage pass as a celebrity guest of sorts.

Since they were already at the BigHit headquarters for the photoshoot and a little celebration for the beginning of the new year Namjoon had to walk just a couple of doors down to get to PD’s office. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. After hearing a faint invitation he pressed on the handle and opened it.

“Oh, it’s you. Why aren’t you with the others celebrating?” The PD asked, obviously surprised to see Namjoon.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be joining them in a minute.” He said, remembering Jimin’s words. “I just came here to ask about the No Limitations show. It’s in January and since it’s already first of the month I wondered-”

“Ah, of course.” PD cut him off with a smile. “You're going.”

“Really?” Namjoon asked in shock.

“Yes, all of you are.” Namjoon must have looked very confused for a moment there, because PD rushed with an explanation. “We got an answer saying they were going to issue a formal invitation to the concert and an after party to the whole band anyway. Go and pass on the news to the rest of the boys. We’ll have a proper meeting about this next week.” Namjoon thanked him accesively and assured he’ll let the rest of the members know about the situation. As he walked down the hall he heard their voices from the dance studio they had the photo shoot in. He was speechless.

“It’s happening.” He thought, leaning on the wall to catch a breath before coming inside. After a moment he pushed the door open and joined his group members with a bright smile.

“Guys, guys. Listen” He called. “We’re going to (Y/N)’s concert!” He exclaimed and they cheered, gathering around him, smothering him with hugs and tugging on his cheeks teasingly.

“Look at him.” Jimin chuckled pointing at Namjoon who was pacing around the room. “So excited for the concert.”

“Of course he is. He’s going to meet his crush.” Seokjin added, also laughing.

The whole group was teasing him about (Y/N) all throughout January. It was seventeenth today, the day of her Seoul show and he couldn’t wait. They already got their hair and makeup done. They were dressed to the nines. All that was left was to get to the show.

“The car is here.” Someone from the staff announced and all the boys got up from their spots. As they walked down the hall together they all took turns patting Namjoon on the shoulder for encouragement.

“Do you think we’ll have a chance to talk to her?” Jungkook asked with excitement when they were all in the car together.

“Of course!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“No, but like, for real talk. Not just: nice to meet you, let’s take a picture, goodbye.” The youngest explained quickly.

“Hopefully.” Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the thigh as that was something he was worried about. He would definitely be happy if he got even only a second with (Y/N), but he wished for more.

After a short drive the car stopped in an underground parking lot under the venue of the concert. As they got outside they could hear the cheers of the crowds gathered outside. Their staff took them on an elevator explaining once again how the night will go. First a before party with other guests, then the concert itself and after that the after party at a hotel. Namjoon repeated the sequence of these events in his head a million times already. Technically he was prepared, but practically he was a mess. His hands were sweating and his heart was racing like crazy. He looked around the small elevator at his closest friends and the familiar faces of BigHit staff who were accompanying them. Realising he has so many people around him for support eased his nerves a little.

“I can’t believe we’re in the same building.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, she was also in the same building as us at the VMA’s and AMA’s and so on.” Yoongi teased him and everyone chuckled.

“That’s true, Namjoon.” Taehyung agreed with a grin. “You shouldn’t be so worried.”

“Easy for you to say.” Namjoon added right as the elevator door opened.

“Yeah, she already saw us perform at one of the award shows. She knows who we are. It’s going to be fine.” Jimin said in a nervous tone. Namjoon just nodded to himself trying to make the anxious thoughts go away as they approached the area where the before party was held.

They were all excited to see (Y/N)’s show and attend her after party, but with the tremendous enthusiasm also came the stress of meeting an A list celebrity from overseas.

“I can’t believe she’s still not here.” Namjoon whined to Taehyung and Jimin as the rest of the group scattered to chat with other invited idols and celebrities. “All the dancers and her band are here already.”

“It’s still early.” Taehyung tried to cheer him up. “She’ll show up any moment. I’m sure.”

“Definitely.” Jimin agreed with him energetically.

Before Namjoon could voice another concerned thought lingering in his brain everyone in the room started cheering and clapping. He looked around wondering what caused this reaction as he noticed the obvious reason.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” (Y/N) said stopping somewhere in the middle of the gathered crowd of celebrities and staff. “It means a lot. Really.” She put her hand to her chest as she spoke. “If all goes well the show will be starting in a couple of minutes. Wish me luck and have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked as (Y/N) was rushed away by her staff to the stage entry. “I thought she was going to chat with everyone or something.”

“Do you chat with guests before the show?” Jimin asked. “That’s what the after party is for.” He explained and Namjoon hummed in agreement. Just the quick glimpse he caught of her was enough to leave him speechless.

“Let’s go watch the show.” Hoseok said approaching the three from behind with the rest of the group following close behind.

There was a big screen in the backstage lounge and a couple of smaller TV’s located at the stage entries for those that wanted to glance at the stage during the show to see the real deal. They watched the first half of the show in the lounge and later relocated to the left entry area. Namjoon’s eyes were glued to the screen as everyone around him chatted away. He tried to pay attention to the conversation and partake from time to time, but his focus quickly went back to (Y/N). She looked stunning singing and dancing on stage.

Suddenly a group of staff dressed in all black rushed into the area they were hanging out in with some other guests.

“Wardrobe change, left.” One of the staff said as she clicked on her earpiece.

Namjoon almost jumped out of his seat when he saw (Y/N) jogging down from the stage and into the swarm of her people from her team.

“Woah, that gave me chills.” Yoongi commented as (Y/N) passed by them surrounded by her wardrobe, hair and makeup team.

“Say something.” Hoseok whispered, elbowing Namjoon’s side.

“Like what?” He asked following (Y/N) with his gaze as she disappeared behind her dressing room's door.

“Great show, looking good. Anything really.” He encouraged him with a cheeky smile.

“No.” Namjoon shook his head, already feeling the blood rushing to his head.

“Do it. Do it.” The rest of the members repeated after Hoseok, but he only shook his head once again.

“She’ll come out any second.” Seokjin added in a warning tone.

He was right. The dance number performed by her backup dancers was getting to an end and (Y/N) should be running out onto the stage soon to sing the next song.

“Great show!” Jungkook yelled out in English.

All the boys’s heads snapped in his direction and then onto (Y/N). She was walking out of her dressing room in long strides. As Jungkook yelled out his praise she turned to look his way without stopping,

“Thank you!” She answered quickly before being escorted by her staff into the understage corridors.

All the boys started shoving and pushing the youngest member teasingly.

“Namjoon was supposed to say that. You took over his part. Jungkook, you’re so eager.” They yelled with laughter.

“What time is it?” Taehyung asked the group as most of the guests gathered in the backstage lounge to watch the encore of the show.

“It’s close to eleven.” Seokjin answered, looking at his phone.

“Before we finish off the show with this last song I just wanted to take a minute to say: Thank you so much.” (Y/N)’s voice echoed from the stage and through the speakers in the lounge. She was standing in the bright lights holding the mic to her lips. “Thank you for choosing to come see the show and spending the night here with us. I really can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you, here in the audience and back at home watching and streaming my music and the shows. Thank you so much.”

“Ah, she’s so nice. Never forgetting about her fans.” People around muttered.

“I really, truly appreciate you guys. I cannot imagine how this year would’ve gone if I hadn't spent it with all of you, all of the people on the stage and behind it. We’ve been away from our homes for so long.” (Y/N) voice got higher with nerves and sadness that came over her as she spoke about her home. “We’re coming close to ten months on the road now. That’s a long time.” She said, bringing her hand to her chest to show her gratitude. “Thank you so much for putting up with me.” She chuckled and the staff cheered. “I feel so lucky and so fortunate to be working with all of you and to be able to perform in front of all of you.” She sighed deeply, undoubtedly masking a cry. “So thank you. I love you so much. Thank you.”

The audience was shouting and applauding loudly as (Y/N) walked off the stage waving to them. As soon as she was out of the view she handed her microphone to one of the sound people and took a big gulp of water from the bottle one of the staff handed her.

“Thank you.” She breathed out. “I need to get out of this hair as soon as possible.” She chuckled tiredly as she walked into her dressing room.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes to get you ready for the after party.” Her assistant, who was waiting inside, spoke calmly as the beauty and wardrobe team gathered around (Y/N) quickly taking out the bobby pins from her hair and undoing the back of her dress. “There’s quite a lot of guests your manager would like you to talk to, at least for a minute.” She said and quickly moved on to listing all the most important people attending the party.

“Have any of those people been informed that I might want to reach out to work with them later?” (Y/N) asked, getting into her oversized sweatshirt dress with the help of some staff so that she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

“No, that’ll be done after tonight. Sometime this week though.” She explained scrolling through something on her tablet.

“What time is the flight to Osaka tomorrow?” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired as she thought of getting on another plane.

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.” Her assistant said casually. “You got surprise booked for a daytime show tomorrow, so we’re staying in Seoul for that for the whole day and flying to Japan the next morning. The crew will be already there setting everything up for Saturday.”

“Two days in Seoul?” (Y/N) was surprised.

“Mhm.”

“What’s the show?”

“King of Masked Singer. You’re going to be the surprise opening act. I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” She said smiling at herself in the mirror as the hairstylist was fixing up her hair.

“Heels or sneakers?” One of the wardrobe girls asked.

“Heels.” (Y/N) answered without hesitation. She wanted to look her best when surrounded with so many new faces at the after party and pairing sneakers with an oversized sweatshirt didn’t seem like the greatest combination for that.

“Ready.” The head stylist stated as one of the staff helped (Y/N) get into her thigh high booties.

From there, accompanied by security, (Y/N) and her assistant walked to the elevator that took them to the parking lot located under the venue.

As (Y/N)’s car pulled up in front of the hotel a swarm of fans and paparazzi started yelling out her name and waving to get her attention. She stopped to get her pictures taken, walked up to a couple of fans to sign their albums or pictures and walked inside to get to the after party. With her assistant following her every step and the three body guards right behind them she took yet another elevator to the hotel bar rented for the occasion.

“Let’s do this.” (Y/N) whispered to herself as she pushed the bar door open.

When she walked deeper into the crowded room random hands touched her shoulders and unknown voices spoke words of praise directed her way. She smiled and thanked the faceless mass making her way towards the DJ’s stand.

“That’s her.” Hoseok whispered as (Y/N) passed by the group of boys.

“Woah. She’s dressed cool.” Taehyung gasped, eying down her figure.

When she stepped onto the slightly elevated stage the DJ stopped the music and handed her a microphone. A wave of cheers erupted from the gathered guests as everyone noticed the star of the night had arrived.

“Hi.” (Y/N) spoke sweetly into the microphone and let the crowd yell or whistle back at her for a moment. “It’s so nice to see all of you here.” She chuckled. “Eat, drink, have fun. It’s all on me tonight. Just tonight.” She joked and the crowd clapped and yelled in excitement. “I know you all came here after the concert, but it’s not all about my music tonight.” Her tone turned mysterious all of a sudden. “It’s actually a very special day for someone else as well. A very funny guy, an inspiration in the studio, a dance mastermind and a dear friend and coworker of mine.” With every endearment term she listed the cheers got wilder. “Johnny Campbell. Where you at?” She asked looking around the room.

“Here!” Someone called out in the front of the room.

“Johnny, this is for you.” (Y/N) said in a low voice and started singing a very sexy adaptation of the birthday song.

As she finished someone in the crowd whistled and Johnny joined her on stage.

“Happy birthday Johnny.” (Y/N) finished off her wishes and hugged him tightly. “Let’s party, everyone!” She exclaimed into the microphone earning a loud cheer from everyone gathered at the bar.

(Y/N) made her way to the bar, stopping to chat and take a picture with someone every couple of steps. More than twenty minutes had passed from the moment she got off stage to when she finally got to the counter and grabbed herself a glass of expensive champagne. She sipped on the bubbly liquid and chatted to members of her dance crew. Looking around the room she locked eyes with a guy she recognised from somewhere. It took her a minute to realise it was BTS’s Jimin she was looking at. She smiled to herself, remembering that his group was on her manager’s to-talk-to list. Being halfway done with her drink she decided to down it and get another one before walking up to the group of boys.

“Oh my god.” Jimin exclaimed. “(Y/N) just looked here.”

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked, feeling his panic and excitement blur into one.

“At the bar.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“She’s coming here. She’s coming here.” Jungkook said quickly as (Y/N) made her way towards them.

“Hi, guys. I’m so glad you could make it.” She said in a sweet tone. “I’m (Y/N).”

“We know.” Jungkook blurted out which would normally earn him a shove to the shoulder from the older members, but the sound of (Y/N)’s chuckle at his comment made them relax and join her with nervous laughter. “I’m Jungkook.” He added extending his hand.

“I know.” (Y/N) answered with a smile and went for a hug and kiss on the cheek instead of a simple handshake.

“You know?” He asked in shock.

“Yes, I saw you guys perform at award shows, your music is everywhere. I know BTS.” The members smiled widely as she explained and started greeting the rest of them in the same way one by one. The hugs were quick, but still sincere. “I’m so happy you found time in your busy schedule to come see my show.”

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Namjoon said, trying to sound cool and collected. He wasn’t going to mention that he practically begged their PD to get them backstage.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled and Namjoon’s knees almost went weak at the sight.

“Yes, great show.” Jungkook added and the group laughed.

“Oh, it was you.” (Y/N) also laughed realising it was Jungkook who yelled the words of praise her way halfway through the concert.

“Yes, I… Liked your dance with… By Your Side.” Jungkook said slowly making sure he picked the right words. “Great choreography.”

“Thank you.” She answered, bringing her hand to her chest as she accepted his compliment. “It’s nothing compared to your routines though. Those look hard.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. We work hard. A lot of practice.” They muttered with modesty.

“Honestly!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I was trying to learn the routine for your song with Halsey with my girls… So hard.”

“Boy With Luv?” Jimin raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but the foot choreo was killing me.” She complained jokingly.

“Hyung, ask her which member’s part she learned.” Jungkook asked Namjoon in Korean.

“He wants to know which member’s choreography you learned.” Namjoon explained.

“Yours,” (Y/N) pointed to Jungkook.

“Me?” He asked and she nodded energetically. “Hyung, say I can teach her the choreography.” He added in Korean with a wide smile, still shocked he’s talking to such a huge star. Namjoon and the rest of the boys laughed at the youngest member’s bluntness.

“He’s saying he’ll teach you.” Namjoon hurried with an explanation as (Y/N) looked confused by what they were laughing about.

“Watch out, ‘cause I’ll take you up on that offer.” She raised her brow at Jungkook cheekily who looked at Namjoon for a translation.

“She says she might take you up on that.” He translated to his friend and he laughed, feeling a blush creep up onto his face.

“I sang your song during soundcheck today.” (Y/N) stated and all the members raised their brows at her.

“Which one?” Jungkook asked.

“Sweet Night. V’s solo.” She said pointing to Taehyung. “It’s such a sweet song and you sound amazing in it.” She said, touching his shoulder.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled, bowing to her slightly.

Not in many moments Namjoon was glad that his members couldn’t speak English as well as he did, but right now he couldn’t be happier about it. They were all so excited to be talking to (Y/N) they forgot their tongues. The alcoholic beverages that they already consumed didn’t help either. They asked him for translations every other sentence, meaning (Y/N) needed him to translate for her as well, meaning he was talking to her more than any other member, meaning she looked at him more than at any other member. Despite the language barrier the conversation flowed so easily between them. He felt ecstatic.

“(Y/N).” Her assistant called her name and brought her to the side for a moment.” It’s showtime.”

By saying “showtime” she meant that it’s time for (Y/N) to perform a song or two to entertain the guests and keep the party going.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered her and walked back to the group of boys.

“V, could I borrow you for a moment?” She asked with a sweet voice.

Unsure of what she might want from him, but still excited Taehyung followed (Y/N) into the bar.

“You said you love Underneath and know the lyrics by heart.” She said, glancing at him as they walked side by side through the crowded room filled with chatter and music. Taehyung hummed in agreement, feeling his heartbeat grow faster and faster. “You know them well enough to sing it live with me now?”

“What?” He asked, almost tripping over his own feet.

“I’m supposed to perform a couple of songs now. Would you like to perform one with me?” She asked stopping and looked him in the eyes with hope.

“Of course.” Taehyung answered, giving her his signature box smile.

“Great!” She exclaimed and grabbed his hand to lead him backstage. “This way.”

“Where do you think she took him?” Seokjin asked as (Y/N) disappeared with Taehyung in the crowd.

“I have no idea.” Namjoon answered, also curious about the whole ordeal.

“She’s very nice.” Jungkook commented.

“Yeah, nicer than I imagined.” Yoongi added.

“We have to get a picture together.” Hoseok said and the rest of the boys agreed.

“Look, there’s (Y/N).” Jimin pointed towards the stage where the DJ’s booth was located.

“Welcome to the stage, the one and only, (Y/N) and Korea’s very own, V of BTS!” Announced the DJ and all the boys’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“What?!” They screamed in unison.

“Hi.” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “V and I have a very special cover for you tonight. Please enjoy, Underneath.”

The rest of the members sang along to the fast paced pop song as V and (Y/N) performed. The lyrics talked about hidden feelings and the tension that can build up if you don’t give them a way out. Even though (Y/N) and Taehyung never sang together before their voices blended perfectly in the duet. When they finished their performance the crowd applauded loudly. (Y/N) put her arm behind Taehyung and he did the same. Joined in this side hug they bowed to the audience.

After a minute or two Taehyung got back to his friends with the widest smile on his face.

“Can you believe this?” He was still in shock.

“Congratulations. You were so good. Woah.” All the boys chattered at the same time.

“I recorded you.” Seokjin added as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. They gathered around the small screen watching Taehyung and (Y/N)’s performance once again.

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked Taehyung as the video came to an end.

“Last I saw her she was talking to MAMAMOO.”

“Ah, so cool. She’s probably busy. We didn’t even take a picture together.” The group chimed. After a moment of sulking they went back to obsessing over the fact that they met (Y/N) and that one of their own members sang with her.

Surrounded by music, food and alcohol the time seemed to fly by very fast. Accompanied by their staff they left the party around two in the morning without having a chance to talk to (Y/N) one more time.

Mornings after concerts are usually pretty bad for both the audience members and the performing artists, but mornings after concerts combined with after parties, meeting new people and mingling with every music producer possible are even harder.

(Y/N) woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. From her bed she walked straight to the bathroom to take a shower. When brushing her teeth she scrolled through her Twitter feed reviewing every other caption or photo on the endless string of posts from last night she was tagged in. She liked a couple of tweets posted by her friends and was about to lock her phone when she noticed a simple caption.

“Great show #정국” (Y/N) pressed on the picture to see it whole. She immediately recognised Jungkook, one of the members of BTS, a band she met last night. He was standing in front of the big monitor backstage with her tour logo on it, making hearts with his fingers and smiling at the camera. She smiled to herself remembering how easily yesterday’s conversation flowed with the group of boys.

“Ah, I wish I had his number.” (Y/N) muttered. “I could take him up on that dance lesson offer.”

(Y/N) rushed to open her hotel room’s door to the room service. The hoteboy brought in the big breakfast she just ordered minutes ago and set it on the table. As she got ready to dig into the scrambled eggs her phone started vibrating. She looked at the called ID and quickly picked up as she saw it was her assistant calling. She gave her a quick rundown of the day’s events and informed her she’s free to rest and relax until three in the afternoon.

“That’s when they’ll pick us up for King of Masked Singer.” She finished explaining.

“I have one more question.” An interesting idea popped into (Y/N)’s head. “Is there a way you could get me the number of BTS’s Jungkook?”

(Y/N)’s phone chimed as she was finishing up her breakfast. She picked it up reading the message she just recieved.

“I got it.” As she read the message from her assistant another one appeared on the screen. This time it was a string of numbers.

“Ah, what should I say?” (Y/N) pasted the number into her contacts and waited a minute before pressing the dial button. The phone beeped a couple of times before going silent. Jungkook didn’t pick up. “Hm. Let’s try again.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Jungkook was hanging out with his friends in their shared apartment. He was typing something up on his phone when the screen lip up with an unfamiliar number.

“Hyung, do you know this number?” He showed the ringing screen to Taehyung sitting beside him on the couch.

“No. Pick up.” Jungkook just shook his head at his answer.

“I don’t pick up unknown callers.” He rejected the call and went back to what he was doing. “This person is calling again.”

“Pick up.” More preoccupied with switching through TV channels, Taehyung encouraged him tiredly. Jungkook swiped right to take the call and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” He asked in Korean.

“Ah- Hello.” Jungkook and Taehyung locked eyes in surprise and curiosity as the person on the other side spoke in English. “It’s (Y/N). From yesterday.” Taehyung almost screamed in shock. Jungkook felt all his blood rush to his head.

“Ah, sorry. Hello. Sorry.” He stumbled over his words, trying to explain why he didn’t answer her call at first ring. “I don’t pick up if I don’t know the number.” (Y/N) chuckled on the other end of the line.

“It’s fine.” Her voice was sweet and calm. “Actually, I’m calling, ‘cause I’m still in Seoul-” Taehyung stood up from the couch covering his mouth with his hands, still in deep shock. “-and I was wondering- I was thinking about what you said last night, so…” Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, trying his hardest to remember what he said that made (Y/N) call him the next morning. “If you have time we could meet and dance together.” Taehyung gasped. “You could teach me the Boy With Luv choreo and-” Jungkook couldn’t control himself and answered her before she could even finish asking the question.

“Yes.” He blurted out. Taehyung jumped back on the couch and pushed his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes.” He assured her.

“Should I come to your-” Eager to see her he cut her off again.

“You can come to our studio. I will text you the address.”

“Great. I’m free until three in the afternoon so text me the time as well.” She added.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.” (Y/N) added after a moment of silence.

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“AH!” Jungkook threw his phone, which felt red hot in his hands right now, on the other side of the couch.

“What was that?!” Taehyung yelled, shaking on his shoulders. “How did she get your number?!”

“I have no idea!” Jungkook felt his body relax as he was no longer on the phone. “Oh my god. I have to text her now!” He reached to dig his phone out from under a stack of pillows and blankets on the couch. “And I have to go see her!”

“You’re doing great.” Jungkook praised (Y/N) with laughter as she jokingly overdid the moves and gestures in the choreography. “Like that.”

“Okay, but in all seriousness how did I do?” She asked, cutting the jokes short. Jungkook raised his thumbs up with a smile and she chuckled again.

“Let’s do it again and record it so we can review. You vs me.” He set his phone up on the floor by the mirrors in the studio space at BigHit.

“Teacher vs student.” Jungkook just hummed in agreement before playing the music.

Tired after practicing Boy With Luv for an hour and freestyling for almost two more (Y/N) and Jungkook sat down on the floor of the dance studio panting. She stood up to get herself some water and immediately regretted it.

“Ah, my legs.” Jungkook smiled at her words. Although (Y/N) danced in her music videos and during live performances her routines were far more relaxed that BTS’s regular dances. Their moves were sharp and strong and her’s more sexy and slow. Chucked her emptied water bottle back into her bag and turned to face Jungkook again. “Are you hungry?” He raised his brows, knowing what will come next if he says he is in fact hungry.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go eat something.” Her proposition was so blunt and free. He could not refuse her, but the excitement that filled his chest at that moment didn’t overshadow the fact that the rest of his group would be so bummed they didn’t get to eat with (Y/N) as well.

“Ah, can I do this to them?” He whined in Korean. (Y/N) gave him a confused look since she didn’t understand a word he just said. “My members will be jealous.” He explained with a slight smile.

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. Should we invite them?” That Jungkook wasn’t expecting.

“You want that?” He asked to make sure he didn’t just hear something wrong. (Y/N) smiled sincerely at his unsure expression.

“Yeah, why not?” Jungkook quickly got up from the ground and dug his phone up from his pocket.

“I’ll call them. Wait a second.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) answered as he walked out of the studio to call his friends.

Jungkook dialed Namjoon’s number, knowing he was at the apartment right now enjoying his day of rest. The line beeped a couple of times before he finally picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and sleepy in contrast with Jungkook’s, which was excited and fast paced.

“Hyung, listen. Get the rest of the guys and put me on speaker. I have something to tell all of you.”

“What is it?”

“Are they all there?”

“Wait a second.” Some shuffling and name calling was heard on the other side of the line before Namjoon spoke up again. “Okay, go.”

“So I’m with (Y/N) right now. We just got done dancing and all that and… She’s invited us all to lunch.”

“What? Oh, wow. Really? How cool.” The group erupted in chatter as they heard Jungkook’s news.

“Yeah. Can you come?”

“Of course. Yes. I can’t.” Another bundle of statements was heard.

“Who can’t?” Jungkook asked, saddened.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin said.

“I already have plans with our producers, but you all should go.” Yoongi explained, still encouraging the rest of the boys to go out.

“You sure?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, go.”

“We’ll take a picture for you.” Hoseok joked.

“What are we going to eat?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answered, not really having thought about that yet.

“Since we know Seoul maybe we should pick the place?” Seokjin proposed thoughtfully.

“Good idea. I’ll tell her that. When will you come here?”

“Thirty minutes? We need to get dressed.” Namjoon said and murmur of agreement was heard.

“Okay, okay. Don’t overdress though, we’re both in sweatpants.” Jungkook added with a chuckle. After exchanging goodbyes he hung up and sighed deeply, letting his shoulders relax a little before going back into the studio.

When he opened the door he saw (Y/N) stretching her legs in a sitting down position. He joined her on the floor before speaking.

As Taehyung pulled into BigHit’s parking lot Jungkook and (Y/N) were already waiting outside. Both dressed in large black puffer jackets going over their knees, they stood beside one another. Jungkook was looking over (Y/N)’s shoulder pointing to something on her phone.

“Now you can add a picture.” He said, swiping his finger on her screen. (Y/N) nodded and pressed on the camera option.

“Take a selfie with me.” She asked, raising her phone up to take a picture of the two of them.

Jungkook smiled shyly and pulled his mask down half way. (Y/N) did the same before snapping a cute picture to set as her contact photo. Jungkook quickly pulled his mask back up to cover his cheeks that started to turn bright red. He glanced over her shoulder as she manipulated the photo to fit both of their faces into the small square.

“And synchronise your contacts, so I will be there.” He added as she finally accepted the placement of the picture.

“Oh, great.”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) pressed on the ‘synch contacts’ button before looking up at Jungkook.

“Thank you.” She said sweetly and pulled her mask back over her nose.

“You’re welcome.”

Taehyung noticed the two of them standing in front of the building exit and slowly pulled up. As he got closer he rolled down his window.

“Hello!” The sudden greeting made them jump up slightly.

“Hi!” (Y/N) called back sweetly.

“Come in!” Shoulder to shoulder they walked towards the car after Taehyung's invitation.

Namjoon was already sitting in the passenger's seat making it so that Jungkook and (Y/N) had to sit together in the backseat.

“How was dance practice?” Namjoon asked them.

“What was it?” (Y/N) tapped Jungkook’s arm. He whispered something to her and she clapped her hands in realisation. “Daebak.” Namjoon and Taehyung laughed at her harsh pronunciation.

“It was good. Great.” Jungkook added after the chuckles died down. “Where are the other guys?” He asked Namjoon in Korean.

“The rest of the guys will meet us at the restaurant.” He explained in English, so (Y/N) could understand. She was still doing something on her phone when he glanced at her from the front seat.

“Jungkook.” Her shy tone echoed in the car. “I synced the contacts, but you’re not here.” She showed him her phone with a concerned expression. “Look.”

“Maybe I will just add my number like normal and then it will be saved in the contacts.” (Y/N) hummed in agreement, giving him her phone.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked in Korean, eying the two in the rearview mirror. Jungkook glanced at him, thanking god that (Y/N) doesn’t speak their language.

“I made (Y/N) a Kakao account.”

“And you’re putting your number in?” Taehyung continued in a teasing tone. Jungkook smiled at (Y/N)’s screen and typed in his ID.

“It’s not like that.”

The boys picked out a traditional korean diner with private rooms and floor level tables. They ordered mountains of meat to fry and tons of side dishes, soups and rice. At first (Y/N) widened her eyes at the amount of food concerned there will be leftovers, but within thirty or forty minutes she realised that those six boys’s stomachs can intake much more food that she can.

The conversation within the group flowed swiftly and comfortably as it did the night before. There even was some talk about possible musical collaborations. No one was looking at the clock, but at two o’clock sharp (Y/N)’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, it’s my assistant.” She announced with deep sorrow in her voice. “Unfortunately I will have to get going soon, guys. I have a TV appearance this evening.”

“TV today?” Seokjin asked in English. He seemed really shocked. When he spoke again he directed his words to Namjoon and spoke in Korean. “She shouldn't have eaten so much noodles and rice. She’ll be bloated and puffy. That’s very bad.”

“He says noodles and rice is bad for TV, ‘cause you might get puffy.” Namjoon explained to (Y/N) who just waved him off and chuckled.

“Ah, I’ll be wearing a big dress and a mask anyway.”

“What show are you on?” Namjoon asked, curiously.

“Something called King of Masked Singer.” The boys started talking over each other in Korean and patting Jungkook on the shoulders. After a moment of that Namjoon translated the jist of it to (Y/N).

“Yeah, so JK also was on that show.” (Y/N), who was sitting opposite to the youngest member of the group, looked up at him with a smile.

“Really?” She asked after swallowing another sip of hot soup. “What did they put you in? What costume?”

“I was…” He wanted to tell her everything in English, but was missing the most crucial word. “Hyung, how do you say fencer?” He asked Namjoon who looked confused for a second before answering him with a shrug. Jungkook reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll show you.” He typed the right words into YouTube and passed (Y/N) his phone. As soon as she looked at the moving screen she nodded in realisation.

“Ah, fencer.”

“Fencer, yes.” Namjoon agreed. (Y/N) skimmed through the video listening to Jungkook’s clear and beautiful vocals in the cover of BIGBANG’s If You.

“Woah, this is good.” She said, looking up at him.

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment as she passed the phone back to him.

“You know what you will have?” Hoseok asked.

“What I’ll be dressed in? Yeah, I’m singing Beauty and the Beast, so I’ll be a princess.”

“Ah, cute.” Seokjin called out with a chuckle as (Y/N)’s phone buzzed once more.

“Ah, I really have to go.” She sighed deeply as the boys whined at her early leave. “I have to get myself intact before going to the studio.” She said gesturing to her laid back outfit. Since she was meeting Jungkook earlier for dance practice she was wearing a pair of branded sneakers, high waisted sweatpants and a hoodie - an outfit most of the boys in the room thought of as very pretty, but to her it was just workout gear.

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked, all of a sudden realising she drove here with them and might not have a ride back to her hotel, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, my security is already parked outside.” The boys nodded at the professional sound of that statement. She was an A list celebrity after all and couldn’t just run around town by herself.

Everyone stood up from the table as (Y/N) slipped on her shoes and jacket.

“It was so nice to see you again.” Namjoon started as (Y/N) turned towards them before going out the door of the private dining room. She smiled sincerely and swung her backpack onto her shoulder.

“I’m so glad we got to hang out.” She looked at them with a shine in her eyes before going in for a hug with each of them. “And that we got to dance.” She added stopping in front of Jungkook. He smiled and chuckled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yes. Me too.”

The group exchanged a couple more words of goodbye before (Y/N) walked towards the sliding door. As she was about to close it behind herself she slipped her face mask down and smiled at the group once more.

“Hopefully that’s not the last I see of you.” She added and the boys erupted with negating statements and chuckles.

419 notes · View notes

backtobackbakubabe · 3 years ago

Text

Speak Easy Part 4

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 5206

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

************************************************************************

Dabi’s frustration only grew when he saw your excited expression. All the sudden all he could think of was the was the way that Bakubrat had kissed the top of your head the last time he had seen you.

Dabi readjusted you so you were on his back and put his hands firmly on your thighs. He’ll admit he’s being ridiculous, but he wanted to keep you out of reach from the explosive idiot.

You were practically buzzing with excitement. You had missed your friends. Even though you had seen them a few weeks ago, it wasn’t nearly good enough, you felt like you didn’t have enough time to actually thank them for saving you. You had known all of them from high school except you had known Katsuki and Izuku much longer. You all had known each other since you were kids. Katsuki was always the one pulling your pigtails while Izuku was always the one to let you paint his fingernails.

That mentality pretty much stayed the same as you all got older. Katsuki would still relentlessly tease you but he was always much meaner to any of the guys who hit on you. There was a rumor that went around that your quirk made you super good in bed and it had every guy chasing after you for the wrong reasons. He never hesitated to hit first and ask questions later when men cat called you in his presence.

Katsuki had always had a very special place in your heart. He had always been your protector as well as your biggest supporter. There were so many times he and Izuku had talked you out of quitting school. Every so often an article would circulate about how villainous your quirk was and how you deserved to be locked up. The pressure would eventually get to you and you would end up in one of their rooms pacing and holding back tears. They helped you learn to love your quirk, but Katsuki was the one who secretly worked with you on weekends to help you get stronger. He thought if he showed you that you were more than just your quirk you would finally stop listening to all the fucking gossip blogs.

You kept bouncing with excitement the entire time Dabi walked towards the front door. He paused a few steps away and gave your thigh a sharp slap. “Hey, quit that. If you keep bouncing like that, I’m going to drop you. Behave.”

You wondered what crawled up his ass. He was just praising you a few minutes ago and now he’s grumpy. There’s no way he could be that mad about Katsuki coming to visit. He knew this was going to happen. He was holding you when Katsuki promised as much. You understood that he didn’t really get along with most people, and Katsuki was honestly kind of hard to get along with in the first place. But that still didn’t give him the right to be so pissed about him being here.

Dabi opened the door but remained in the doorway, effectively blocking Katsuki from entering. “Can we help you?”

Katsuki had a duffle bag on his shoulder as well as a box at his feet. “You could start by letting me in asshole.” He looked at you and his scowl softened just slightly, “Hey dork. Think you could convince your chauffeur to get out of the way?”

You giggled and gave Dabi’s neck a pinch. Dabi responded by giving your thigh a pinch, “Eye for an eye brat. You want me to let him in? I think I deserve an entrance fee?” He pointed towards his cheek as if he was asking for a kiss.

Katsuki’s eyes traveled from where Dabi’s hand was firmly squeezing your thigh to where he was pointing at his cheek. They were furious. He was about to just shove his was through when you wrapped your arms tight around Dabi’s neck and leaned backwards. Effectively throwing his body weight off and giving Katsuki more than enough room to enter the house.

He quickly let himself in and made his way over to the couch where he dumped the box he was holding. “Alright so here’s your first care package.”

“Don’t see why it needed to hand delivered…” Dabi dropped you on the couch next to the box so you could rummage through it.

Katsuki quickly took the empty spot next to you, totally ignoring Dabi. “I brought you a couple new manga that I know you’ll like, and I think Deku added a bunch of pictures and shit from your old apartment.” He reached over you into the box and pulled out a shirt and you grinned ear to ear. It was an old All Might shirt that you had stolen from Katsuki years ago because you liked how soft it was.

He smiled and put his arm around you, “I thought you might like that. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been wearing it in your absence. So, it might smell like me.”

Dabi walked by grabbing Katsuki’s arm and casually flung it off your shoulder. Then without a word started going through the box. “Did you remember the bathing suit?”

You could hear Katsuki’s palm’s crackle with irritation, “Yes… I did. But don’t get your pervy hopes up. I got the most conservative one I could find.” There he goes being overprotective for no reason… well that wasn’t exactly fair he did have a reason. He had just found you in the most horrendous condition possible and immediately had to hand you off to a former villain who kidnapped him in his youth… so yeah. You decided you were going to cut him some slack.

“Well considering it’s for her fucking rehabilitation…she could be naked for all I care. As long as she’s comfortable and gets those damn legs moving.” Dabi could feel his temper starting to get the better of him. Considering Bakugo was known for having the worlds shortest fuse, he needed to keep his cool. He could not be the one to snap first.

“Oi! Don’t act like carrying her around is such a burden!” Bakugo stood up now squaring off with Dabi.

Dabi’s eyes flared but his voice remained even, “I never said it was a burden… In fact, I love carrying her around. However, I don’t plan on making it a habit because I want her to get better.” His voice dipped and got angrier, “And don’t you talk about her as if she’s not sitting in the same room as us! She can speak for herself…”

He looked at you and you gave him a pointed look. ~Calm down please.~

He took a deep breath and signed back, ~Trying~

Katsuki looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “When did you guys learn sign language?”

Dabi walked into the kitchen and started making dinner. If Bakugo wanted to make a house call, he needed to let him have his fun. He’d be leaving soon enough, he just needed to let the two of you be until then. “We started learning a couple weeks ago.” He pulled out two bowls because that’s how passive aggressive he is. If that asshat didn’t get the hint by the time dinner was ready, then he’d just have to sit there and watch you eat.

Dabi had to stop for a moment and contemplate this. Why was he this mad? Why did he actually care this much? You were obviously going to be close with the loudmouth. You’d known him for a long time. He needed to remember that just because you lived with him now doesn’t mean that you even want to be here. For all he knows you’re just tolerating him because you have to. It’s not like the two of you have lots of late-night conversations.

He looked over when he realized it had been pretty quiet and saw that the two of you were speaking in sign. His hands on yours helping you with a new word. “Okay so obviously you know sign too.”

Katsuki had a shit eating grin. “The doctors told my mom when I was young, I’d eventually go deaf due to my quirk. I’m basically fluent.” He continued to sit and teach you new words and damn if you weren’t happier than he had seen in the past two weeks.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he went back to making dinner. “Go ahead and teach her whatever you want. Be fucking useful for once.” Dabi continued to make dinner, shoulders tensing every time he heard you giggle.

Katsuki had his phone out and was showing you everything you had missed. “Okay so surprise, surprise, Deku and IcyHot are like a thing now.” He showed a couple cute pictures from Izuku’s private Instagram. The last one was of them kissing under an umbrella. “Kiri and Mina had a kid. Little rascal is probably about six months old now. He’s cute but his teeth hurt like hell.” He picked up his hand that had a tiny crescent shaped scar, which had you absolutely grinning.

He ruffled your hair, “Oi, you won’t be smiling when the brat bites you next.” He continued to scroll, “OH! I almost forgot the best part.” He turned his phone to you and showed you a picture of someone’s mug shot. “Fucking grape juice got arrested.”

Your eyes widened. You waited for him to go one when you realized he was waiting on you. He was giving you an opportunity to contribute to the conversation. ~Why?~

“Trying to buy a prostitute… Literally no one was surprised.” He looked back to the kitchen to make sure Dabi wasn’t listening. When he was satisfied, he pulled you closer into his side and threw his arm around you. “Hey, you would let me know if he was mistreating you right?” His fingers carded through your hair and his eyes roamed all your visible skin for signs of abuse.

You nodded your head and pulled your shirt further down, suddenly aware that you weren’t wearing pants. You had just gotten so used to it you had forgotten. He noticed you fidgeting, “He hasn’t touched you, has he? Because I swear to God I’ll rip out every single staple in his body then make him eat them.”

You leaned further into his to side to hide your blush. He most certainly had touched you. And you still hadn’t worked out how you felt about it. He hadn’t made any attempt to do it again beyond the casual touches when he carried you or when he helped you in the pool. He had made it a habit of sleeping in your room, but he always stayed on his side of the bed.

Katsuki must have taken your lack of response as a confirmation. “I’m going to kill him.”

You sat up straight and started shaking your head, ~No. No. Wrong~

“Wrong? So, he hasn’t touched you then?”

You gulped. Either way you answered was bad. You either told him the truth and he rage killed Dabi, or you lied to your best friend… Either way you were fucked.

As you struggled for an answer Dabi walked in and handed you your bowl of curry and rice. “Don’t worry I’ll answer that one for you, and stop at me at any point you think I got it wrong.” He took his seat in a recliner and took a bite of his meal. “So, we had a moment where something could have happened, but we stopped before it got too far and decided we were just being emotional and moved on.”

Katsuki’s hand started to heat up and crackled but you pulled on his arm to get his attention, ~Right~

He still looked angry, and maybe even a little hurt, which had you all confused again. He looked like he wanted to throw one of his famous temper tantrums. You knew how much it was killing him to not pounce on Dabi, “Keep your disgusting hands to yourself from now on. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you taking advantage of her!”

“You don’t speak for her!”

You clapped your hands to get their attention, ~Enough~ You gave each of them a glare and it was silent after that.

You took a bite of your dinner to avoid Katsuki’s eyes and was met with the most delicious meal Dabi had made to date. You cleared your throat to get Dabi’s attention. You pointed to Katsuki then your bowl of food and signed ~where~?

“I didn’t think a busy hero like him would have time to stick around for dinner.” He continued to pick at his food, “Speaking of which. It’s getting late. Hate to keep you from your super important work of dress up and make believe.”

Katsuki gestured to the duffle bag he carried in. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere tonight.” He was looking at you now. A look of concern ghosted across his face. “Consider it a wellness check.” He leaned forward and gave the side of your head a soft peck, “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

You felt yourself sinking into his familiar warmth. If there was anyone who felt like home, it was Katsuki. Sure, he was in the middle of a ridiculous pissing contest with Dabi at the moment, but you really couldn’t blame him. He’d always been a stubborn, territorial, asshole. But he was also kind he cared about you and for that you could forgive him.

“Whatever, just don’t get in the way of our routine.” Dabi stood up with his now empty bowl. “You know that law, eat every last bite. I’ll get your bath started while you finish.” He looked at Katsuki, “You can have my room… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He didn’t even wait for a response as he left the two of you alone.

Katsuki visibly relaxed into the couch once Dabi had left the room. “What did he mean by law?”

You smiled as you pulled out your journal and opened it up for him. You pointed to law number seven. At first, he was pissed that Dabi would give you a new set of rules to live by, like you were some kid. But then he realized there wasn’t a single “law” on here that didn’t have your best interest in mind.

His eyes scanned over the rest. Chuckling at some silly laws like ‘Wake up whenever the hell you want’, and ‘No fucking shrugging.’ He had to admit that he also hated it when you would do that. It wasn’t that you were indecisive. It was that you knew what you wanted but you never wanted to speak up for yourself. Always willing to bend over backwards to make others happy. Never wanting to give anyone any more reason to dislike you.

His heart hurt at the laws that said things like, ‘No drugs’, ‘No locked doors’, and ‘Never say sorry for something that isn’t your fault.’

The law that had his blood boiling however was the last one, law number thirteen. ‘I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.’ He furiously flipped through the pages that came after, trying to get the idea of you ever giving Dabi consent to touch you out of his mind.

You had finished your food by now and stretched your muscles out. All in all, this had been a great day. You walked on your own in the pool AND Katsuki had come to visit. You were so tired you just knew you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Hopefully you wouldn’t have any nightmares.

You put your hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and used it to push yourself to your feet. You wobbled for a few seconds but otherwise kept your footing.

“Hey look at you! I thought you’d be too tired after what we did in the pool today, good job.” You looked up to see Dabi leaning in the hallway. “Your bath is ready. One for me, two for blondie.”

Katsuki scrunched his nose up, “Wha-“

You held up two fingers and Dabi nodded. “Alright looks like you get bath time duty today.” Dabi smirked when Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Don’t freak out. She’s gotten to the point where she can get in on her own and some days she can even get out too. You just need to hang out by the door in case she needs help.

You wound your arms around Katsuki’s neck, and he picked you up. His heart pounded as he followed Dabi to what he assumed was your room. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Hey wouldn’t be the first time we bathed together.”

You giggled and hit his shoulder. You knew he meant when you were kids. But you couldn’t stop the blush that took over you at the thought of him just hopping in the tub with you now.

Dabi tensed up as he stopped at the door to your room. “Alright… y/n you know the drill if you need me just yell.” He winked at you after his stupid joke and you flipped him off.

He walked back to the kitchen and opened his laptop. He started to go over tomorrow’s sign language lesson early. He’d never tell you this, but he does this every day. You were so much better at picking it up then him, he needed to do extra work just to keep up.

You signed ~Thank you~ as Katsuki placed you down next to the full tub.

“Okay… so I guess you just let me know if you need me by…?”

You shrugged as you knocked on the side of the tub. Part of you really didn’t want him to leave, even if it was only for a few minutes. You reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He gave you a curious look, but softened when you signed back, ~Stay~

“Does he usually stay?”

You shook your head, Dabi always insisted he had things to do and it was important you do some things on your own.

Katsuki took a seat on the floor with his back against the tub. Even with permission he was determined to protect your modesty. You slipped your clothes off and quickly lifted your legs into the tub. It was almost too easy now and you smiled at your progress.

You sighed as the water warmed your skin. Your hand reached for Katsuki’s and gave it a squeeze. You could see the tension in his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back before intertwining your fingers.

“Y/n… I -I know I’ve already said I’m sorry. But I still have this mountain of guilt sitting on my chest. You were… are… one of the most important people in my life. And I was so wrapped up in my own life I didn’t see the signs. I didn’t notice that something was wrong.” You could hear his voice crack as he tried to hold his emotions down. “I knew you went on secret missions that you couldn’t always talk about. I watched as you came back looking defeated and… and broken. I thought there was something going on, but I just kept reminding myself you worked with heroes… that I was just being paranoid.”

You felt tears build in your eyes and you were glad he wasn’t looking at you. You rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb encouraging him to keep going. He obviously had a lot he had been bottling up. “You know Deku and I went to your agency one day after you had been gone for a few months and all they told us was your mission was confidential, and we weren’t related to you so they couldn’t even tell us if you were okay.” He sniffled, “I went there every day after work and got the same bull shit answer. It drove me crazy.”

He took a deep breath to settle himself, “So we started asking about you. Started looking for you in all the underground trading routes.” A long silence followed as he got lost in the memories of looking for you. “It almost took us a year, but we finally found someone who had seen you. Some small-time villain whose quirk was invisibility. He had snuck into your agency to try and break his boss out. But when he found him you were also in the room…”

He didn’t keep going, and for that you were grateful because you didn’t want to hear it. You knew what came next and you didn’t exactly want to relive it.

“I’m so sorry. I failed you. I was supposed to protect you. I promised you I’d be by your side forever, and I-I-“

You pulled his hand towards you and gave it a kiss before putting his palm on your cheek. He hesitantly turned and looked at you with tears in his eyes. You activated your quirk and washed over him with feelings of love and understanding. You watched his eyes close as he shuttered. You may not be able to speak, but you could still communicate to him through feeling that you were okay.

You reached over and brushed a stray tear away and pulled him close to plant a kiss on his forehead.

When your bath was over, he waited for you to wrap yourself in a towel before picking you up and depositing you gently on your bed. You pulled the All Might shirt he had brought with him over your head, and crawled under the covers.

He had only wanted to lay there until you fell asleep, but he ended up falling asleep soon after you.

Dabi walked in hoping to tell you goodnight but found the two of you asleep facing each other. You under the covers, Bakugo on top of the covers. Your hands stretched out towards each other as if looking for each other even in sleep.

Dabi’s hands were glowing with livid flames as he left in a hurry.

He went straight to the abandoned cabinet that held all of the now off-limits drugs. He could take just one… you would never know.

He growled as he shoved the bottle back into the cabinet and slammed the door. Reaching instead for a bottle of whiskey. He went to the couch and poured himself a drink.

And that’s how you and Bakugo found him the next day. Passed out on the couch empty whisky bottle on the floor next to him.

Dabi chugged his coffee as his head pounded. He was no stranger to hangovers, but ever since you came to live with him, he hadn’t felt the need to drink that much. At one point in his life it had been the only way he could get any decent sleep.

He watched from his seat at the kitchen island as you and Bakugo made breakfast. The smell of bacon hit him and his stomach growled. Shit.

You could see his sour expression and when Bakugo wasn’t looking you stood from the chair you were sitting in. Dabi kept his eyes on you like a hawk. Watching for any signs you might fall. You stumbled but he remained still. He knew you were okay. The Island was right there if you needed to hold on to it. You were only a few steps away from him now. Arms stretched out and a smile on your face.

You knew this would cheer him up, and get him out of whatever shitty mood he was in. Only one more step and you’d be there. To this Dabi stood up and took a step away from you with a playful look in his eye as if to say come and get me.

Bakugo continued to talk, not even noticing you weren’t sitting behind him anymore. It wasn’t until the loud thud of you hitting the tile floor that he looked up. He immediately rushed to you while Dabi laughed.

“Why the fuck are you laughing? She could be hurt!”

Dabi just continued to laugh, “I’m laughing because it’s fucking funny. She’s fine.” He titled his head to the side. “You’re a tough cookie aren’t yeah y/n?”

You giggled and nodded. Dabi took you from Bakugo’s embrace “See she’s fine. I think you need to remember she used to be a pro hero. I think she can handle tripping over her own feet.” He stood up and sat you down in front of the laptop.

“Okay time to learn some sign language, looks like today’s all about food. Oh good, you love food.” He ruffled your hair before picking a piece of bacon off of your plate and biting into it.

The little back and forth continued the entire day. The biggest argument came later when it was time for the pool. You groaned and decided you weren’t in the mood. ~No pool~

Dabi rolled his eyes at you, “Yes pool. You even have a bathing suit this time. So, get your ass in gear.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. “Listen here brat. It’s the law. We work on getting your strength back every single day. No negotiations.”

Bakugo didn’t like the tone Dabi was talking to you in. “Oi, she’s not some puppet for you to boss around. She said she doesn’t want to so that’s it. Back off!”

Dabi’s eyes flared with anger, “You don’t have a fucking say in this. This is between me and her.” He looked at you again, “If you had asked nicely, I might have let this go. Just because we have a guest doesn’t mean you can disregard the laws and neglect the routine. Now be a good girl and let’s go put your bathing suit on.”

Bakugo stepped between you and Dabi, “Be a good girl? What the fuck is your problem. You don’t own her.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose trying to remind himself why he can’t just fight the obnoxious asshole in font of him. “I don’t own her, but I also refuse to sit here and watch her wither away. We have laws to make her better, and I refuse to deviate. It’s clear I take her recovery more seriously than you do.”

Bakugo shoved Dabi back, “The fuck you do! This isn’t some rehab she checked into. You have no right to boss her around! What makes you think you know what’s best for her?”

Dabi was practically screaming now, “Because I’ve fucking been in her shoes, you ignorant ticking time bomb!” His chest was heaving now, “Did you ever wonder why I had to fake my own death just to get away from my own father… who was a fucking HERO! I’ve been poked and prodded and pushed past my limits. Except I didn’t have someone there to help me and I ended up in the League. Depressed, blood thirty, and hell bent on getting revenge on the so-called heroes that were so okay with a little boy practically killing himself every day just to produce the next number one.”

To this Bakugo didn’t have an answer. He’s heard Todoroki’s horror stories. He could only imagine what Endeavor had put Dabi through.

Dabi looked at you know eyes still furious, “I’ll make you a deal y/n. You put on quite the show this morning taking a few steps on your own. No matter how mad I am, I’ll never tell you that wasn’t a good job. But now you want to skip the very thing that allowed you to take those steps.” He walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in his recliner. “Make it over to me right now, with no help and we can skip the pool.”

With a determined scowl you pushed yourself out of your seat. Bakugo went to grab you “Y/n you don’t have to do-“

“Yes! She does, now let her do it. She needs this. Y/n you can do this. Now prove it to me and prove it to yourself.”

You took your first step, determination written all over you face. Step followed step and you had already walked further than you had this morning, but you were only about halfway there.

Dabi’s eyes were patient and his voice was calm. “Come on y/n. You can do this. You aren’t broken. There is nothing wrong with you. Just keep walking.”

You could feel the tension in the room stiffen. Bakugo watched you with his hands out as if to catch you, always your protector, always your safety net. But you didn’t need that right now.

Your knees started to wobble and buckle, and involuntary whine left your lip as you went down to one knee.

“Come on you can’t give up now. You’re doing such a good job. Now push yourself back up. I’m right here. Come on. Push harder!”

You felt a tear streak down your cheek as you tried to push yourself up but only ended up on the ground.

Bakugo was at your side in an instant but you pushed him away.

“That’s right y/n you can do this. I believe in you. I don’t care if you have to crawl. You’re so close.” You pulled yourself up enough to crawl across the rough carpet. You got up to your knees then slowly you stood.

Dabi saw the fire in your eyes and it sent a shiver down his spine. You were going to do this even if it killed you. It made him think about what you would look like in battle. If you looked even half as gritty as you do now he had no doubt you had strong men cowering at your feet. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he gave that back to you. That power, that strength, that untamable will, he knew was somewhere inside you laying dormant.

He got out of his recliner and lowered himself to the ground, “Come on your so close now. Keep going Y/N!”

With one last push you practically jumped into his arms and collapsed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but for the first time since coming here they were happy tears. You did it. You walked all on your own.

He cooed into your hair as he rocked you back and forth, “You did such a good job. You did it. I knew you could. You can rest now. I’ll get you some ice cream. How does that sound. We’ll celebrate.”

You nodded as you clutched Dabi’s shirt.

Bakugo disappeared for a few minutes and when he came back he had his bag over his shoulder. He kneeled down next to you and pressed his forehead to yours. “I think it’s time I got back to work. I still need to take down the bastards that did this to you.” He smoothed his fingers through your hair and looked to Dabi, “I think you’re in good hands.”

He made his way to the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

*****************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #mha bakugou #bhna bakugou #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #dabi my hero academia #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi todoroki #toya todoroki #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #my hero academia

139 notes · View notes

ofendlesswonder · 4 years ago

Note

ah so exciting! would love number 25

25. “I need a place to stay.”

A shadow falls over Kara’s desk, and she pauses her proofread of her latest article to glance up at the person hovering by her shoulder, jaw dropping open when she gets a glimpse of messy blond curls.

“Carter?” It’s been months since she’d thought of him, longer still since she’d seen him, but the face is unmistakable, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “What are you doing here? Is your Mom here?”

She hasn’t seen Cat in months, either, not since she left to ‘dive’ into pastures new. No one has seen her recently, in fact—she’s effectively disappeared off the face of the earth, is only mentioned in gossip columns when they’re speculating her whereabouts.

Not that Kara has a Google alert set up for her name, or anything.

“No, she’s in Washington.”

“D.C.?” What on earth is she doing there? And what on earth is Carter doing here, backpack slung over his shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks blotchy like he’d been crying.

“Yeah. She took a new job there.”

Kara feels like he’s reading from a script she isn’t privy too, has no idea how any of this has led him to be here, standing by her new desk and scuffing his converse along the floor. “Okay…”

“But I don’t want to live there. I didn’t want to leave here, but she said it would be temporary. That we’d come back. Only now she wants to work in the stupid White House and she’s looking at apartments and a new school and I—I don’t want it. We had a fight.” He sniffs, rubs the back of his sleeve across his cheek like he’s scrubbing away the remnant of his tears. “And I said I wanted to come back. Live with Dad, if that’s what it took.”

Kara can only imagine how Cat would have taken that.

Not well, by any means.

“She sent me back, only I don’t want to live with my Dad, I want to live with her, but here in our old apartment. He wouldn’t even meet me at the airport. He said I was old enough to get a cab.”

Kara’s jaw tightens—she knows Chris is an asshole, but this seems like a new low, even for him.

“So, I got a cab, but not to him.”

“You came here, instead.” Here, to some semblance of stability, of familiarity. The apartment is gone—Kara had helped Cat list it for sale, and it had been snapped up in no time, and she wonders if Cat had ever really considered a move back to National City. The apartment is gone, but CatCo. is not, and Kara remembers countless afternoons where Carter had come by after school, curling up in Cat’s office with his homework. Sometimes, Kara had helped him with a particularly stubborn math problem, or talked to him about his favorite anime, keeping him entertained until his mother was off the clock.

“I need a place to stay,” he says, voice small, eyes glued to his shoes. “Can I come home with you?”

Yes, she wants to say, without hesitation, recognizing the small, scared child he so desperately tried to hide, the one who felt like he had nowhere else to go. Yes, of course you can—but it’s never that simple, is it?

She has a secret identity to protect, and he’s supposed to be with his father, and Cat might kill her, and—

Wait.

Does Cat know where he is?

“No,” he says, when she asks. “I didn’t tell her. And I turned off my phone, so she wouldn’t track me.”

“Carter.” She can’t help the admonishment, because she knows how much Cat cares about him—she’d do anything for him, and she imagines her pacing up and down a hotel room in the capital, already on the phone to the police. “You should call her.”

He makes a noise of discontent.

“At least let her know you’re safe. She’ll be worrying.”

“Can you call her?”

“I…I don’t know about that. I think it would be better coming from you.”

“Please?” He peers down at her with eyes so like his mother’s that Kara aches.

“All right,” she sighs, and makes the mistake of glancing across the bullpen. Snapper is glaring at her, his face red. Great. Someone else who wants to kill me. Could this day get any better?

“Kara?” Cat answers the phone sounding harried, and Kara recognizes the faint note of panic in her voice. She lets herself bask in the familiarity of it for one long moment—months, since she’d heard Cat’s voice, months, since she’d last felt the comfort of it. Months of missing her, in a way she knows she isn’t allowed to. “This isn’t a great time.”

“Uh, I know.” She looks at Carter, who avoids her gaze. “Something about a missing fourteen year old?”

“How…how do you know that?”

“Because he’s standing right in front of me.”

“Carter’s with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Good question. Should I let him explain it for himself?”

Carter shoots her a sharp look, but Kara forces the phone into his hand anyway, pointedly turning away like she’s not listening as he lifts it to his ear. She stares at the blinking cursor on her computer screen as he talks, trying to summon the will to finish her work.

No such luck.

“Could you…could you keep an eye on him for me?” Cat asks, when Carter gives her back her phone. “I’m going to fly out as soon as I can, but it’ll be a few hours before I can get there. I know it’s an imposition, and he’s supposed to be with Chris, but he said he’d be more comfortable with you.”

Her gaze flickers to Carter, to the hopeful expression on his face, to the pleading note in Cat’s voice, thinks of the opportunity to see her again, even if for just one more day.

“Okay,” she says, and knows it’s the right decision when Carter lurches forward to wrap his arms around her neck. “I’ll watch him.”

“No runaway trains this time,” Cat says into her ear, and Kara laughs, remembering her last ill-fated babysitting attempt, a lifetime ago.

“I’ll try my best.”

***

The knock on her door comes at nine thirty, not quite loud enough to wake the sleeping teenager stretched out on her couch.

She pulls open the door, comes face-to-face with the woman she’s been trying so hard not to think about for the past few months, and Kara thinks, as their eyes meet, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, that she’s been fooling herself, because it all comes rushing back the second their eyes meet.

There was only ever one reason why things would have never worked with James, one reason why Kara hasn’t been able to so much as think about dating since they’d ended things, one reason why her life has felt so empty these past few months.

Only one person who could make her heart pound, set butterflies free in her stomach, make her palms—physically impossible though it may be—feel damp.

And that person is the woman standing in front of her now, her eyes as wild as her hair, mussed from the wind, a faint flush on her cheeks and Kara wonders if she’d raced up the stairs in those three inch heels, desperate to set eyes on her beloved son, to see for herself he was safe and well.

“Come on in,” Kara says, standing aside to let her past. It’s the first time Cat has been inside her home, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on her.

She’s glad she had the foresight to tidy up a little, while Carter had been in the shower.

If he’d noticed that the amount of cleaning she’d done shouldn’t have been possibly in such a sort frame of time by human hands, he’d had the grace not to mention it.

“I, uh, didn’t want to wake him up,” Kara says, pitching her voice low, when Cat gravitates toward the couch, gazing down at Carter with such open affection she feels like she has to look away. “Seeing as he’s had a hard day.”

She’d tried to distract him as much as possible, enlisting his help with the fun of filing while she’d been at work, and then with food and games once she’d taken him home. He looked like he’d needed it, lost in his head, spiralling over the choices that had been made for him, bits and pieces of his life over the last few months spilling out over the course of the afternoon.

“Thank you for looking after him.”

Kara shrugs. “It wasn’t any trouble.”

“Still. You don’t owe me anything. Not anymore.”

“On the contrary, Ms. Grant. I owe you a lot.” She’d forgotten how hard it was to think, with Cat’s eyes weighing heavy on her face. “My job, for example. I wouldn’t be a junior reporter without you.”

“Nonsense. You got that job on your own merit. Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing so well.”

“You read my articles?”

“Of course.” Cat looks offended she thought otherwise. “Is Snapper still giving you hell?”

“I think he likes to torture me.” Her nose wrinkles, and Cat laughs, some of her worry ebbing away now Carter is within her sights.

He’s still sound asleep, and Cat doesn’t look like she wants to wake him. Bathed in the glow of the lamp on Kara’s coffee table, she’s breath-taking, and Kara looks away before she’s caught staring.

“Do you, um, want a drink or anything?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose any more than we already have.”

Panic seizes her heart at the thought of Cat leaving so soon, because when would she see her again? Would she leave right away, ushering Carter back to the CatCo. jet and across the country before night truly fell? Or would she linger, perhaps let herself remember all the things she loved about this place?

Not that that would include you, you idiot.

“Please,” she says, trying not to listen to the voice in her head. “I…It would be nice to hear what you’ve been up to these last few months.”

For a moment, she doesn’t think it’s enough. Thinks Cat is going to leave anyway, slip away even though Kara only just got her back.

But then she blinks, and her lips curve into the smallest of smiles, and she says: “Very well. What have you got?”

Good question, Kara thinks, because probably not a lot. Whatever Alex and Maggie had left over last game’s night, which turns out to be a bottle of cheap whiskey Cat turns her nose up at. Kara doesn’t blame her—apparently it left a killer hangover.

“I’m trying to cut down on drinking,” Cat says, and her gaze flickers over to the back of the couch. “I’ve been told it’s not very healthy. Apparently it’s bad for my liver.”

A sentiment she’d never once shared before, but Kara bites her tongue. It’s none of her business, the ways in which Cat has changed. None of her business, to wonder if Cat’s been throwing down scotches to try and chase away the memories of the city she’d left behind.

“How about a tea?” Cat suggests, and Kara blinks at her.

There’s a request she’s never made before.

“Regular, peppermint or camomile?”

“Regular is fine.” Kara brews a pot, wonders why she feels so jittery, but she knows the answer. It’s because Cat is here, in her space, after so many months away. Here, in a place thus far untouched by her, and Kara knows when she’s gone she’ll feel the imprint of her, remember the way she’d stood, leaning against her kitchen counter, looking out of place and like she was exactly where she belonged at the same time.

“So,” she says, once she’s handed Cat a steaming mug. “Washington, huh?”

“Carter told you.”

“Only a little. He didn’t say what you were there for.”

“I was offered a job. White House Press Secretary.”

Kara nearly chokes on a sip of her own tea in shock. But then, she thinks, it makes sense. She could see it—Cat, at the front of a room full of reporters, tearing them apart if they dared ask her the wrong thing. She could certainly think of no better person to have fighting your corner than Cat Grant.

“Is that what you want to do? Get into politics?”

“It’s something I’ve considered.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“My, my,” Cat says, clutching her mug between long fingers and throwing Kara a lazy smile. “Look at you. Am I being interviewed, Ms. Danvers?”

Kara ducks her head, feeling her cheeks warm. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“It’s all right.” Cat’s voice is gentle, her eyes unguarded when Kara dares to look her way. “To be honest, I don’t know what I want. I thought getting away from here would bring me clarity, inspiration for my next big thing, but…instead I found myself wandering without purpose. Less a shark stuck in a tank and more a tiny goldfish, lost at sea.”

“Then why not come back? It...it’s not the same without you.” Too much, probably. Too close to spilling the truth, maybe, but it’s too late to take the words back now.

“Because my reasons for leaving haven’t changed.”

What reasons, Kara wants to ask, because the ones she’d been given had never made any sense. Cat handing over the reins to her beloved company just didn’t seem like something she’d do, especially without so much as a glance back. What reasons, Kara wants to know, but the line they tread is so thin—she thinks of Cat’s razor-sharp voice saying strictly professional and never wants to feel an ache like that again.

“And what about Carter?”

Cat glances toward the couch again and sighs. “I hadn’t realised he was so reticent until today. I know he struggles with change, but…I thought this would be a good one. He could go to a better school, have more opportunities. I didn’t know he was so attached to this place.”

“Of course he’s attached. It’s his home. It’s all he’s ever known, and you—no offence—are yanking it away from him.”

“I suppose you have a point.” Cat’s lips purse. “When did you get so wise?”

“Learned it from the best,” she says, and Cat’s smile is tight. “Are you…are you going back there tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think Carter and I need to have a discussion, first. One where I listen to him instead of making the decision for him. I just…I thought I was doing the best thing for him. For both of us.”

“So you might stay?” She can’t quash the hopeful note in her voice, watches a shadow pass across Cat’s face and wonders what it means.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can.” Her fingers tremble, the tiniest amount, as she sets down her empty mug, runs them through her hair.

“Why?” Just do it, she thinks, because when she wakes up tomorrow, Cat might be gone, and there are too many unanswered questions for her to be left with. “What’s so bad about being here? What are you so desperate to get away from?”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat’s eyes close, a sigh rattling through her chest. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me to.” She knows she’s being obstinate. That there’s a reason Cat doesn’t want to tell her, that she has no right to know.

But she remembers Cat saying goodbye, Cat’s arms wrapped around her, heart beating so loud it was impossible for Kara not to notice, the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she’d blinked them away. Remembers the countless times Kara had reached out, over the past few months, only to be ignored, like she meant nothing when she knew she’d meant at least something.

“Please, Cat. I just want—”

She’s cut off when Cat surges forward, settling one hand on the counter beside Kara’s hip and wrapping the other around the back of Kara’s neck, drawing her down into a kiss. Kara freezes, brain short-circuiting as Cat’s lip brush against her own, soft and warm, but when she feels Cat begin to pull away, her bravado failing, she snaps into action, discarding her mug on the counter and splaying a hand at the small of Cat’s back to keep her close.

It’s been building for years, she thinks, as Cat parts her lips for Kara’s searching tongue, nails digging into the base of her skull. Years of working closely together, a spark igniting but neither of them willing to give it space to grow, too terrified of what might happen, if it grew into a fire they could no longer control.

“That’s why,” Cat breathes, when she pulls away, heart hammering almost as fast as Kara’s.

“Seems like a pretty good reason to stay to me,” Kara says, leaning in to kiss her again, but Cat stops her with a shake of her head.

“It’s not. Kara, you shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want me.”

“I know,” she says, and when Cat flinches, she doesn’t let her pull away. “I know there are a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t, why we shouldn’t be together, but I also…don’t really care. I’ve spent the past few months missing you like crazy, and it hasn’t diminished the way I feel about you. Doesn’t that mean something? Doesn’t that mean it’s worth trying?”

“I…” Cat trails off, meets her gaze and traces the pads of her fingers across Kara’s cheek, looks at her like she barely believes she’s real. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to.”

“You start by letting me in. By not running away when—” She hears movement on the couch, hopes to Rao Carter hasn’t heard any of their hushed conversation. “Carter’s waking up.”

Cat is quick to slip from her arms, and Kara feels the loss of her like a physical ache, chilled to the bone in the places she’d just been burning with warmth. “I don’t want this to be the end of it,” she says, knowing Carter’s not yet fully conscious, knowing they have a few more stolen moments. “I don’t want you to go to your hotel room and talk yourself out of it.”

“Kara Danvers, are you asking me to spend the night?”

“No, because I know you’d turn me down.” She can sense it, in the nervous energy radiating from her. Cat isn’t a person who lays her heart on the line, is someone guarded and careful, isn’t reckless the way she had been tonight. She needed time to process, time to think it through, and Kara would give her that—as long as she wasn’t going to slip away without saying goodbye. “But we should talk. Tomorrow.”

“Before five.”

Kara frowns. “Why five?”

“Because that’s how long the Press Secretary job is on the table for.”

“You haven’t accepted it?”

“Not yet,” she says, and Kara feels hope bloom in her chest. “I told them I had some things I need to consider first.”

“And now?”

“Now I have even more things to think about.” She reaches out, catches Kara’s fingers with her own and squeezes, and Kara’s heart thuds in her chest. She wants to lean down, wants to kiss her again, already misses the heat of her mouth, but a head pops over the back of the couch, Carter rubbing at his eyes.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Mom’ me,” Cat says, eyes narrowing until Carter gulps. “Do you have any idea how worried I was, young man?"

“I’m sorry,” he says, his head hanging. “But I wanted to stop you doing something stupid, and this was the only way I know how.”

And thank Rao he had. Her day would have shaken out very differently had Carter not arrived in the bullpen, she knows. She’d have finished her article and gone to hang out with Alex and Maggie, probably, tried to ignore the ache seeing the two of them so happy seems to incite, lately, craving something similar for herself.

“Hm. Well, we’ll talk about it later. For now, I think we’ve taken up enough of Kara’s time, don’t you?”

Not enough of it, Kara thinks, but she bites her tongue. Space. Time to process. Not snuggling up together on the couch with a movie.

“Thanks for today, Kara.” Carter looks only a little sheepish as he gathers his things, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Any time, buddy,” she says, meaning it more than he’ll probably ever know. The urge to kiss Cat goodbye is so strong she can barely stand it, and she balls her hands into fists at her sides so she doesn’t reach for her. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” She asks, before Cat slips through the door, dizzy with the feeling of being on the cusp of something she’s wanted for so long.

“Tomorrow,” Cat agrees, looking like it pains her to say it, looking like she doesn’t know how she’s possibly going to muster the will to leave, green eyes so heavy on Kara’s face it feels like a caress, feels like the ghost of her kiss, makes her feel like she’s burning from the inside out. “Goodnight, Kara.”

Goodnight, and not goodbye, and Kara hovers in the doorway, watches them go down the hall.

“You are in big trouble,” she hears Cat say as they turn the corner, slipping out of sight. “What were you thinking?”

And she shouldn’t listen, she knows, but she catches her name, as they start down the stairs, and can’t help but tune in to a snippet of conversation.

“I was thinking I missed home, and that I was sick of you moping after Kara for the past eight months, and it was time someone did something about it,” Carter says, then: “Ow!” as Cat must smack him over the head.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.”

“But did it work?”

“None of your business.”

“It totally worked.”

Kara shakes her head, unable to bite back a smile as she steps back inside and lets the door shut behind her.

#supercat #supercat:fanfic #this was supposed to be short... 🤷‍♀️

192 notes · View notes

purpletaecup · 4 years ago

Photo

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling. When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

← masterlist →

taglist: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x @alinerl @lunaarya @somewhereinthestarss @moonlitmyg @liriaus @coolpeanutskeletonpersona @scentedsope @seoul9711 @sbtzhoe @ggukkieland @mariand @deolly @fandomstogetherweunite @pairdeune @baekstans @mickmoon @iamnamjoonsbxtch @cloudbuffalo @kimmalik @laabellaavitaa21 @liveoffyou @vantedollz @1this1is1me1 @yulisaangelica @madnesstaking0ver @venxtaetae @pimpnameyannie @bobrouxsky @cheesecakes-randomshitz @ceoofjjksimping @minclangyyy @ysljoon @eilenebeniquez @laurynne5 @jalexad @yoongicap @hellotherehoneybee @thequeen-kat @haveumetbadeth @goldenkookietae @miss-jupiter @arcadechick @neverthefirstchoice @zxlummxxd

376 notes · View notes

tojakku · 4 years ago

Text

✶ - sugarplums and stardust

pairing: fpopstar! reader x arc trooper fives summary: you, sugarplum, galaxy-wide adored popstar. fives, galaxy-wide renowned idiot. warnings: rated m for mature! this chapter includes: smut (18+), oral (female receiving), dirty talk, implied rough sex, pee pee in v, the beauty of checking up on your partner, mature language... a hot clone trooper, flirtation... alcohol... etc... fives being a little slut

THE BARRACKS ARE ALMOST ENTIRELY QUIET. Almost. The centre of Coruscant never quite escaped from the thrum of late-night traffic, or the sing of the planet throbbing right below their feet, through canals and chambers and pipes of sewers crawling with scrap rats.

Sometimes too much silence wasn’t good for Fives’ brothers. Sometimes it made them more restless, tossing and turning before eventually leaving to the gym, to push weights and punch bags until their tiredness had them collapsing on the mats. It was an uneasy and unpredictable world in the barracks- right where it should be predictable and easy.

The 501st are on shore leave along with a good handful of other battalions, a couple from the Inner Rim, the 13th Battalion from Sullust, even Wolffe and Cody were sticking around somewhere. Fives, although he was meant to be raving and silly and wild, was feeling a little… well, he hadn’t eaten much at dinner.

Something about the last campaign on Bothawui, a second, months after the first, and being soaked through with blood and gunfire, had just dulled him a little. Maybe he just needed sharpening.

He muscles his helmet in his hands, trudging down the main corridor through the barracks. There were separate rooms inside now, the one he shared with the rest of Rex’s squadron far at the end. The lights, although top of the range, working perfectly, were too bright, flickering off the durasteel of the walls, the floors, the ceilings. Fives wrinkles his nose. Too bright.

There’s the slightest shimmer of music, though, and for a brief fleeting moment, Fives is convinced it’s coming from outside, from Coruscant, but when he pushes through into his part of the barracks, his stomping ground, he stops still.

Now, the 501st have always been fans of partying, music, drinks, cantinas, women, but Maker, Fives was not expecting four full-grown men huddled around a datapad, nodding their heads to a silvery voice accompanied by a thrumming beat. He didn’t expect, either, the harsh shushing he receives from an irritated Kix.

The medic holds up a hand and starts rabbiting on to Jesse, perched on his left on the bunk, leaning his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Damn batchmates.

“See? She’s amazing,” Kix mutters, gesturing at the datapad. “She was on the radio the other day, little Tano said something about her and I looked into it.” Fives tosses his helmet on the opposite bunk and takes a peek at what exactly they’re watching.

Oh.

A popstar. Shimmying. Rather precariously.

She’s all clad up in pale, pastel lavender, her cheeks dusted in a thin film of shimmering pink, her mouth painted a matching shade. She’s even got this wild, bright yellow hair. Kix takes a wary glance at Fives before angling the screen a little more.

“Sugarplum.”

“She’s some babe from the Core Worlds, a superstar,” Hardcase supplies, chewing on a bar of some unidentifiable substance with a grin. “Hot,” he comments, when she turns to wink at the camera.

“What is this?” Fives asks, leaning heavily on the bunk. Her shimmering, glittery skin seems to just seep through the datapad with every shift, shimmy and spin.

“She’s doing concerts all over Coruscant in the next few days. Then Corellia, then the other ecumenopoli.” Echo speaks as if it’s common knowledge. Fives scowls at his twin, shoving his shoulder with a hand.

Kix swipes left on the datapad and suddenly a rather risque picture flashes up, Sugarplum’s tongue out, her eyes rolled back. A ripple of chaos from the boys as they try to cover the datapad, and a roar of laughter from Hardcase when the pad goes flying over their heads.

“What the fuck?”

“That is not my datapad, I swear-”

“Yeah, it’s Tup’s!”

“No, no, it’s definitely ‘Case’s.”

Fives snorts, throwing himself onto his bunk, listening, happily, to his brothers bicker.

“Want to bet she wants a piece of clone ass?” A murmur of dissent and discern when Jesse speaks follows- Fives struggles not to burst into a laugh. The cog-faced trooper looks down in embarrassment when he’s knuckled into a headlock. “Come on!”

“Yeah, maybe she does, but we weren’t going to say that!” A pause. “It’s practically gospel truth all of the beautiful ladies want a piece of us.”

The door busts open again, on four troopers in a pile, and Fives, beaming happily away on his bunk. It’s Rex, ole’ Captain, and he looks once at the pile, once at Fives, before moving into the barracks, silent as night- not on Coruscant, silent somewhere else.

Fives wriggles under his Captain’s gaze, uneasy. Sometimes he made him uneasy when he didn’t talk, didn’t even greet them. Sometimes it meant the end of shore leave. Fives swallows, stuffing the panic hard down in his stomach to edge himself along the bunk with a little more formality. Rex catches his gaze.

“You lot looking at Sugarplum again?” There’s an uproar of disagreements, denials and something else, just Jesse relenting with a sigh. Fives stuffs a fist against his mouth, trying to contain his laughter at the four troopers fumbling over each other, even as Rex stares, unimpressed.

“Yeah,” Fives mutters. “They were, but we saw some of Hardcase’s secret bank and they threw the-” A pillow hits him square in the face. “Hey!”

“You guys are bad as cadets,” Rex huffs, laughing softly, bringing his datapad up. He looks more tired than usual, rings under his eyes.

“You tired, Rex?” Kix asks, suddenly fluttering into medic-mode. He touches Rex’s forehead with the back of three fingers and draws an amused sigh from the Captain. Fives watches over the edge of his fist. If something’s wrong with Rex, that means no drinking themselves into inhibition later that night.

“Better not be! We’re out tonight,” Jesse knocks his hand on Rex’s shoulder as he throws himself up from the bunk. “And I’m dreaming of beating Commander Wolffe in a drink-down this time. This time.”

“Don’t you say that every time, vod?” Hardcase levels a gaze back at the now-scowling Jesse.

“What clubs do you think Sugarplum goes to?”

“Those glitzy ones on the upper levels, probably, the ones suspended in the air,” Rex joins in then, making weird shapes with his hands. “You’ve seen.” A moment of silence. “Okay, well, the General told me they sell sunfruit liquors there for five credits a shot.”

“Is it supposed to be better than the shit they sell us at 79’s?”

“Who fucking knows.”

“The General, apparently-”

“Kenobi was the one who told him.”

Another round of laughs. Fives sighs, smiling, before wrestling Echo into a headlock.

“Ready to get out-drunk tonight, brother?” A shove, a scoff, then a grin. “You better be. You owe me three drink runs.”

“Three?”

“Three, vod, three. For the last time I saved you.” Echo shakes his head, pushing a hand through his dark hair- same as them all, deep down. “Three.”

“Two.”

Fives laughs, bumping forearms with his brother. Echo knocks his temple against Fives’ and a moment of softness breaks the twins’ bickering.

“Fine, two.”

Fives never could refuse his batchmate.

You weren’t, and never will be, completely keen on Coruscant. Too much… difference. No, it’s not that, it’s just the deep tunnels into the ground and the rumours you hear sometimes, through your girls, through… well, anywhere.

‘Disease grows twofold as the lower levels of Coruscant are ignored for a Senate sickness’, or ‘The lower levels of Coruscant- most dangerous place in the galaxy?’. No, of course not. There’s police, you stupid news writer.

You pick idly at your nails, smoothing your thumbs over each metallic-blue painted tip to soothe your nerves.

Eva and Lirisa had planned for a club outing tonight. The concert earlier had gone perfectly fine, just amazing, really. Everything was on point, the dancing, the singing, the backup vocals, the crowd… it still tingles on your skin like a second skin. The thrill would never hit any different.

You’re hidden away in your dressing room back in your apartment, slumped over a chair like a swooning lady. Lirisa is fixing her hair around her three little head horns, a bright, vivid purple like her skin, frowning in the mirror over your shoulder. She catches your gaze after a moment, face folding into concern.

You stretch out in the plum velvet chair, legs in fluffy slippers spreading when she gets that look. That look meant questions.

“Why are you so down?” You frown, shaking your head, returning your gaze to the datapad in your hands. A news article about you paints the screen. Lirisa looks down, once, twice, realises, and snatches your chin away from it. “Stop reading it if it’s bad.”

“It’s not bad. It’s good.” She pouts, letting you go with a soft pat to the shoulder. You shuffle uncomfortably in your feather-trimmed robe, the sheer material not offering much of a comfort in the face of a wide-open balcony window a few paces away.

Eva appears seconds later, looking plump and perfect in her eye-snatching candyfloss pink minidress, feet hidden in peculiar fur-cuffed ankle boots. She shifts, eyes ducking against the ground, her tattoos across her nose, little black diamonds against pale green skin, vivid and stark.

“Oh, wow!” You exclaim, turning the spinning chair with a free hand. Lirisa squeals, rushing forward to tug at the hem of the dress, pulling the daring v-neck even lower. Eva hisses, batting away her friend’s hands.

“Don’t pull it down that far!”

“I wasn’t!”

A giggle and a sigh, then attention flickers back towards you. Your gut drops when they rush forwards, springing upon your wardrobe like it was their job- well, it was, but that doesn’t matter. There’s two options for dresses and you’ve already made your decision. A deep blue second skin, a dress that shimmered like a starlit night under the right light. The front was a simple scooped neck, low enough that your cleavage could make a gasp for breath, but not low enough you’d be recognised for a sleaze. The back is a square of sheer material until your hips, a little more than daring, a little less than risque, perfect for a night of dancing and drinking.

There were even little silver stilettos in the corner.

“No one will recognise me in blue, so stop trying to find other dresses,” you chide. “I’ve already made my decision.” A pout from Lirisa doesn’t move your hard-as-steel expression. Sometimes the Theelin girl had the ability to actually change your mind, but now, you sit there, waiting patiently for her to stop sulking. “Are we still going to that… um, that bar?”

“‘That bar’,” Eva mocks, turning you sharply to the mirror to start fiddling with your hair. It rests, untouched, until she starts pulling it up. “The clone bar.”

“Are we even going to be allowed in?” Eva nods, twisting a coil of hair around her finger. It’s not the same electric yellow it was on stage- the wig was long gone. “Who have you bribed this time?” You grin, glancing at her in the mirror. She shakes her head, disgusted at the pure suggestion of bribery.

(Wouldn’t be the first time she had… well, Eva had once tried to bribe a club bouncer with a tray of meiloorun fruit.)

“I heard from a reliable source in the GAR offices that a whole bunch of sexy, all-too-willing clones are on shore leave.” You sigh, tugging on a forlorn strand of hair. Eva grabs your shoulder, firmly. “Don’t pull, your hair is almost done.”

“Shouldn’t I get my dress on first?”

“You’ll only spill blumfruit juice on it.” You scowl. “And we’re leaving in twenty minutes, standard. I already called a speeder for us.”

“No paps?”

“No paps.” A pat on your shoulder and you relax. “Anyway, we’re going to have fun tonight!” Lirisa moves around in the background, now clad head to toe in what looks like skin-tight purple leather. She smiles, fondly, smoothing down a crease at her hip. The neckline plunges low below her sternum, but she acts as if she’s wearing Jedi robes with a swish and a sashay. You redirect your eyes when you get a rather tasteful flash of sideboob. “Looking good, Liri.”

“Thank you!”

“Is it a new suit?” A pause, a shrug. “Is it from my wardrobe?” You ask, eyebrow cocked in question. She nods, coyly smiling. “Fair enough.”

“Huh! If I took that you’d scream at me.”

“No, because I’d never confidently display so much sideboob at a club, Eva,” you mutter. Eva ponders it for a moment, but agrees, nodding. “Exactly.”

“Well, let’s just get to the club first, then we’ll decide how much ‘sideboob’ you’ll display after a few drinks.”

If there was one thing Eva was right about, it was the abundancy of rather good-looking men in the same place. Getting in had been easy- just flutter your lashes at the Coruscant guard on the door, he’d step aside and let you straight in with promises of a kiss later.

Inside was beautiful, purple and blue lights swinging low from a long-greyed ceiling, huge yellow holograms with all manner of languages on them- news, nunaball, flashes of the GAR-droids, the ones that present it. Then, even a flicker of your own face. A familiar beat begins thrumming ten steps into the bar.

Eva barks a laugh, hooking her pale green arm through yours, tugging you closer towards the bartender. She starts ordering shots in a rapid call, smiling politely at the droid behind it. You lean an elbow on the bright, turquoise counter, relishing in the sultry high notes of one of your latest tunes. Lirisa throws her arms around your waist, humming softly.

“Three.” Eva holds up her fingers. “Thank you.”

You flex your hands under the glow of a green-yellow menu. It’s fascinating, being suspended in a place like this and being able to take your eyes off the crowd for just a moment without being scared of being hustled. Eva touches your shoulder momentarily, her usual gesture of reassurance.

Your gaze slips from the bar- it’s fascinating, yes, but more fascinating are the similar faces flashing around you. Each one the same, but slightly different. Silver hair, shaved head, tattooed, long hair, dark hair, pale hair, wider smile, careful gaze. You wet your lips and catch the gaze of a trooper a few seats down.

He’s broad, like the rest of his brothers, but something else settles about him like a halo. Dominance, confidence. He’s got one cybernetic eye, too, but the gruffness of his expression as he moves from his seat has your eyes fixated.

Suddenly, you catch another gaze of another set of troopers some ways away.

Huddled in a booth, an entire squad is staring right at you. With a startled huff, you cross your legs, tugging gently on Lirisa’s leather sleeve.

“I think I’ve been made.”

“Where?” She looks over your shoulder, brown eyes searching against the near-darkness of the club. She raises an eyebrow, slowly. “Oh. Just troopers, it’s okay. They won’t bother you.” You frown, interlocking your fingers and moving, slowly, to lean awkwardly against the counter. Their gazes reside on your back, sticky like syrup, until someone speaks roughly at your side.

“You’re not a clone.”

You turn, matching the gaze of the gruff man from before. A glance over his armour tells you nothing- great. He’s patched in a pale, unforgiving black, and he moves, tilting his body to rest on the countertop.

“No,” you murmur. “I suppose I’m not.” Your fingers go immediately to your necklace, a thin chain of silver studded with transparent stones, to tug. It’s a habit. The trooper looks at you for a long moment, dark eye and silver eye roving until he smiles, a little. Something tells you smiling isn’t normally what he’s used to. “Is that a good thing?” A look through your lashes and a splutter of drink from Eva over your shoulder has you struggling to hold in a laugh.

The man’s eyes flit to the screens, then back to you.

“Is that you?” You purse your lips, glancing at the hologram. “Nice.” Nothing else is added before he prepositions: “Want to dance?”

It’s only a moment after he offers his name, ‘Wolffe’, that you agree, letting him lead you to a writhing pack of men, clones and civvies, a few girls of all species. Your fingers thread through his and with a giggle, you sit your drink- a sunfruit cocktail- now finished, on an empty table. A rivulet of excitement ripples through your stomach when he tugs you firmly to his chest, roving a strong-fingered hand over the small of your back.

He asks a soft ‘this okay?’, but you’re too far flushed with music and finally, relaxation. You throw your arms around his neck and sway to the upbeat bass. A few more moments and your head drops back with a soft sigh, Wolffe’s fingers catching against the thin seam where the sheer material turns back into oil-slick silken fabric. Your breath hitches.

“Never did get your name,” he huffs, nose brushing yours. You sigh, smiling politely.

“They call me Sugarplum,” you murmur, letting his hands on your hips move you a little more vigorously to the disco-beat. Wolffe grins, wolfish, before flipping you around, a hand flattening against your stomach.

The music continues, and you continue to let Wolffe roam his hands along your midriff until he’s heaving heavy breaths in your ear and becoming slowly less dancer-like. You had to admit, the clones seemed like they were lithe bands of silk ready to snap, but you were dying for a drink.

When the song starts to pulse out in favour of a quicker, sharper tone, you slide your hands against his and softly remove them.

“I need a drink,” you shout over the music. He swipes a hand over his sweat-stricken hair and nods, dropping himself into a booth. “Thanks for the dance.” You brush your lips against his cheek and dart through the crowd, desperately searching for a flicker of pink, or purple. Luckily, Lirisa’s still at the bar, pressed against it by someone in red armour, perhaps, but there nevertheless, and smiling, sober. “Liri and… friend.”

“This is Thire,” she calls, patting his hand. “Coruscant Guard.”

“Fancy.” You stare at him for a moment, trying to decide on his intentions when he gives the brightest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You feel your cheeks rush with heat. “Nice to meet you.”

“Plum,” Lirisa mutters. “How was your dance?”

“Oh, fine… you know me…”

“What, a prude?”

“No!” You bat her arm with a hiss. “Picky.” You flag down for another drink, dumping a pile of credits on the counter. Thire’s brows skyrocket, his face a portrait of shock when the droid picks through and takes only what’s needed. “Oh, I don’t know the prices…”

“That’s a lotta’ credits.”

Lirisa tilts his chin with one long, lavender finger and captures his mouth, eyes settling on you with a meaningful look. You swipe the credits up, dumping them back in the little silver shoulder bag she’s got on the counter. Oops.

You hear yourself in the speakers again.

“Huh. Whoever’s DJ-ing has nice taste.” Lirisa pulls away from Thire after a long moment, her lipstick a little smudged, but with a warm smile, Thire swipes it back into place. “Thank you, baby doll.” Thire darkens. “I’ve always liked ‘Popgloss’.”

“It’s not my best,” you murmur, eyes fluttering with shyness.

“This is you?” Thire asks, gesturing at the screen. You look at yourself, bearing a bright, fluorescent blue wig and matching lipstick. “That’s you?” He huffs a laugh of surprise. “Nice lipstick.”

“Thank her,” you reply, jabbing a thumb in the Theelin’s direction.

The droid slides a new drink over. You frown, staring at it. The glass is literally glowing, a white-ish liquid simmering inside.

“Courtesy of the 501st, ma’am.” The droid trundles away and you stare at the bright blue liquid with a smile.

“Boys in blue, huh?” Thire looks at the drink, then back at Liri with hooded eyes. “That looks like a mist-cocktail.” He turns, glancing over his shoulder towards where you’d seen the table staring at you. You follow his gaze, but only a few troopers remain. One of them raises a hand in a two-fingered salute, though. You smile coyly, waving in return.

With a careful touch, you raise the glass to your mouth and take a sip. It’s warm, warm down to your toes, and tastes amazing.

“Tastes great,” you say, a little surprised. “I should go thank them.”

“No, you should leave them waiting, maybe they’ll come up to you!” You scowl, shaking your head. Another sip of your drink and you turn, walking swiftly towards the table where only three troopers remain out of what was a lot more. One with long hair, another with lines tattooed down his face, grinning roguishly, and the last with a buzzed, blonde cut.

“Um, I just wanted to say thank you for the drink.” You fiddle with the draw, lashes fluttering of their own command. All three troopers are staring, two at your face, and the other quite firmly at your legs. “And, well… thank you for fighting. Your service,” you murmur, suddenly taken aback with shyness. Come on, superstar personality! Make your appearance.

The blonde grins.

“You’re welcome. On both counts.” His demeanour is remarkably similar to that of the Wolffe from earlier. Perhaps a Commander. “We’re quite enjoying your music tonight.” You chew idly on a thumb, smiling bashfully. “And we enjoyed Wolffe’s poor attempt at dancing.”

“Oh!” You snort. “He wasn’t that bad!” Eyes follow your hips as they turn, swaying back and forth as you try to plant yourself firmly and more confidently at one side of the round table. “Um, well, thank you anyway.”

“Thank you, Sugarplum.”

You make a wild getaway before you can embarrass yourself further or faint in the lap of the blonde, who was staring a little too sharply for your taste. The music seems to pulse louder with every step you get back to Lirisa, who is now firmly shoved against the counter and smothered by Thire’s mouth. Eva is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Eva?”

“She ran off with a Twi’lek lady.”

You smile, huffing a chuckle of disbelief, leaning forwards to finish your drink in two more sips, when slowly, you notice a presence approaching you from the side.

Hands, well-defined, lined with veins and a few here-and-there scars, draw your attention like an industrial magnet. His skin is bronze, a dark, deep gold, like his brothers, but he plants his weight on the bar and clears his throat softly before speaking.

“Hey,” he says, voice low, dark. You swallow, hard, turning your head. He’s quite a face. He’s got quite a face- sorry, he’s… got quite a face. Right below his hairline, there’s a little ‘5’ tattoo, nestled there, inked in night-black. You take another sip of your drink for courage.

Alone, it’s easier.

“Hello.” Your voice is a little uneasy, but the trooper smiles, his eyes shining with politeness. Your eyes flutter shut when another one of your songs bursts through the speakers, but the trooper’s grin only grows.

“I’m not boring you, am I?”

“No! No, sorry, I’m just… I don’t know.” His smile softens at the corners, less devilish, and he shifts his weight, spine arching with the movement. You let your gaze flicker along his lithe body, contained in blue-stained armour. ‘Boys in blue’, Thire had said. “Oh! You sent me the drink… it’s delicious.”

“Yeah? One of my favourites.” He moves a hand back through his dark hair, eyes ducking for a brief second, before meeting yours once more. You feel your chest swoop and you smile, wide, wider than usual. “Fives.” He offers a hand, a handshake, and you accept it, only for him to flip your wrist. His lips ghost your knuckles. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You can call me Plums,” you supply. “That’s what all my friends call me.”

“Friends?” A coy, cocked brow. Your chest flutters and you nod, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. You’ve probably got dark lipstick all over your teeth by this point, but the way Fives poses the question has you suddenly not-so-bothered. Lirisa’s knuckles jabs your spine twice, a signal. You’re pretty much alone now. She’d bring Thire back to her apartment, two floors under yours, and Eva was wherever that Twi’lek took her. “We like your music in the barracks.”

“Oh? Thank you,” you murmur, gazing into the bottom of your glass. “I wish you could all come to one of my concerts, that’s the only place I sound good sometimes. My studio stuff is a little-”

He suddenly tilts your chin with the knuckle of his finger, still grinning brightly.

“Don’t want to lose my beautiful view.” You chew helplessly on your lip, chest releasing a sort-of sigh, more like a swooning hum. “And I like both. All of it. The boys were playing a couple clips of your concert today.”

“Really?” You fiddle with the stem of your glass, not letting your eyes drop from his face, chiselled and kind, warm.

“Yeah. I like the pink, but if I’m honest, I like this blue on you even better.” He taps your lower arm, where the sleeve ends at your wrist. “We’re matching, see?” He gestures at his blue-painted armour. You suddenly smile, nerves dissipating.

“Seems like we are.” A smile shared, and Fives shifts forwards. His fingers skim your waist as he signals the droid for another drink. “You want me drunk or something?”

“How many have you had?”

“I can handle another. For you.” He raises a brow, eyes suddenly narrowing with a wild grin. “I suppose.” You rest a hand against his chestplate and he huffs a noise of near-surprise, before taking your fingers in his. He brushes his mouth against them and thanks the droid when he appears with another mist-cocktail, no, two. “What are these even made from?”

“Good question,” he murmurs, taking a long sip of his. You stare at him, unabashedly, for a moment, watching the light flicker through his long lashes, then the twitch of his mouth when he realises you’re staring. “Something you like?”

“You have the most beautiful profile I’ve ever seen,” you gush, turning his head with the tips of your fingers, smiling. His breath comes out in a slow whirl when you slide a fingertip down the bridge of his nose. “Like a statue. One of those ones on Naboo in the big fancy halls.”

“You callin’ me handsome?”

“I’m calling you more than that.”

He takes another long drink of his cocktail and you follow, letting it warm your stomach. You glance at his blue armour, touching the lines of his arm.

“Boys in blue?”

“501st Legion.” He bows his head. “At your service, I’m certain. In fact, half the GAR will probably fall at your feet, princess.” You smile, sheepish. “Don’t be so unsure of yourself,” he murmurs, touching a curl of fallen hair at your temple.

“Who said I was unsure? Maybe I’m just faltering in the sheer radiance of your beauty.” Fives laughs, a low rumble in his chest, finishing his drink in one swallow. “501st… are you a Commander?”

He shakes his head with a smile.

“ARC-trooper. Advanced Recon Commando.”

“Oh? So… elite of the elite?” Fives’ eyes flutter, sliding over your features in one long, languid sweep. “Am I stroking your ego?”

“I’d much rather you stroke something else.”

You hum, head turning. You want to pretend the crude line has made you suddenly disgusted, but when he fastens a hand around your waist, you’d rather fall into him, onto him, onto him. He radiates energy.

“Can you kiss me now?”

His eyes widen, at least a little, and he smiles, eyes lidded, gaze smokier than a Sullust sunrise.

“Can I kiss you? That can be arranged.”

Fives leans, capturing your lips in a soft, chaste kiss. He tastes of cocktails and fruit and something else sharper, darker, but you don’t care. It’s suddenly rather hard to care as he brushes a thumb along your ribs and leans you back further. Your chest hisses a content sigh when he tilts your chin, pulls back, then takes your mouth a little harder.

He’s soft as silk for a soldier with calloused hands, his touch careful, hesitant until you moan quietly into his mouth and he touches his tongue against the seam of your lips. You let your jaw open, and he slides his tongue along your teeth, grins, then groans when your hips cant into his.

“Fives, do you want… do you want to come to my apartment?” He huffs, almost as if he can’t believe his luck, mouth shining with moisture. His head dips, claiming your lips once more like he’s got unfinished business there.

His thumbs ripple over the creases in the dress at your hips, his index, middle, ring finger pressing into your ass, pulling you closer. He knows how to work himself, that’s for sure. You shudder, one hand threading into his hair, the other fastening firmly around his bicep like a vice. He slides his tongue into your mouth and sucks at your bottom lip with a chuckle. You muffle a choked whine, desire suddenly starting to yap at the gates like a feral beast.

“Yeah…” he replies, finally, eyes fluttering to kiss you again, twice, three times.

There’s gazes on you from the boys in the booth, you know, you feel them, but you don’t take a chance at them until you can lean back for a cool breath of fresh air. They all sit there, slack-jawed, wide eyed.

“Your friends are looking at us,” you murmur, fingers digging into his upper arm.

“Let them look. They’re not the ones getting an eyeful of this masterpiece up close,” he hums, nosing along your jaw. “You should be painted.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“The truth.”

“You’re the first one it’s true for.” You feel your heart thrum a little quicker, his fingers pressing hard into your ass, then relaxing. “You wanna call a cab?”

“Yeah. Yeah, come on,” you murmur. You’re more out of breath than you’d like to admit- than your ego would like to admit. Fives steals another cool kiss in the entrance to the club, greeting a few of his brothers in a language you don’t understand, before ushering you in his warm, huge hands, to the cab drop-off. His arms suddenly hook around your waist and you sigh, softly, contently.

After dialling in the address to your apartment, the cab takes only another long two minutes to show up, of which consists mainly of Fives drawing his tongue in teasing circles on your neck, and hot, heavy touches along your ribcage.

You step into the cab first, smiling politely to the driver, only to be pinned to the seat by a suddenly ravenous Fives. He pulls you up, over, onto his lap and keeps you there with a hand on your thigh.

“What do you want from me?” He asks, voice low, rough. “I want to be sure you want this.” A finger gestured between your chests and you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“How could it be possible anyone wouldn’t want you, Fives?” You tug gently at his roots, smoothing kisses on both of his cheeks with a coy smile.

“You haven’t met my brothers,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “They don’t want even to bet on me when we spar.” You sigh, stretching. “Do you normally do this?”

“Do what?” You ask, certain your eyes are probably blared with lust and something more primal, more dangerous. Fives smothers his face in your throat, nipping gently at your pulse, breath more of a growl now. “Invite handsome men back to my apartment? You should ask my friends.”

“The Theelin and the Mirialan?” You nod.

“They think I’m quite picky, so nine out of ten nights end with me alone, eating ice cream and watching limmie.” Fives laughs, stroking a thumb over the crease of your knee. “So, you’re lucky.”

“Oh, yeah,” he growls, thumbing at your bottom lip with a grin. You take the digit into your mouth with a hum. “I’ve hit the jackpot.”

The cab stutters up to the dock at the very bottom of the apartment block, and it takes Fives a moment to stare up at the towering building before you can pay the driver and usher him into the doors. Islair, the Nikto receptionist, raises his hand in a polite wave, before doing a double take at the trooper on your arm. He still smiles, though, when you step into the lift.

“You aren’t afraid of heights?” You ask, when Fives leans against the metal bar on the opposite side of the half-glass lift. It slides smoothly through the building, leaving Coruscant more and more distant with every floor climbed.

“No.”

“Good. We’re going to the fiftieth floor.” You smile, fluttering your lashes, crooking your finger towards him. He crosses the lift, boots thudding against red carpet beneath your heeled feet, before shoving you roughly against the wall. His lips break your resolve as soon as he presses them against yours, tongue sliding through into your mouth with a hard groan. He shifts his hips against yours and hooks your wrists beside your head.

“You… we have to make sure there are boundaries.”

“You’d be surprised how much I can take, Fives.” He huffs, a low, gasp of a breath, fingers running up, below your dress. “How much can you give?”

“You’re really riling me up, princess,” he whispers, voice sharp. “How long till your floor?” You glance at the numbers, ticking up through thirty.

“Not long, handsome,” you murmur, sliding the tips of your fingers down his stomach, along his codpiece, until he groans, planting two hands hard on either side of you He could almost bend the metal. “Relax.”

“Tell me to relax while you’re doing that?” He grumbles, smothering you in another rushed kiss when the lift pings, and the doors open. In one graceful swoop, he hauls you into his arms and waits for you to flick out your apartment key. You rustle through the black, studded purse in your hands and quickly draw it out, a shimmery, pearlescent card.

“Apartment Three,” you whisper. Fives hurries along the carpeted hall, lowering you to your feet in front of a rather decadent black door, watching as you flick your card over the scanner. A soft, delirious scent of vanilla hits him right in the face when it opens, and he lets you tug him inside.

There’s a moment of silence.

“So, this is my apartment,” you mumble, feeling his presence creeping behind you. His hands snake around your middle, to the hem of your dress and up once more. He takes his time, like he’s standing in front of a painting at a gallery, pushing himself along your spine. You arch your back, sighing softly when he cups your breasts in his hands and kisses your throat, once, twice. “You don’t care…”

“Nice place.” Is all he manages, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, hardened against the silk of your underwear, underneath your dress, but he knows- he grins, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” You turn, fiddling with the latches of his armour pieces, kneeling on the cool wood of the ground. His throats jumps, but you ignore it, finely, too, as you release the rest of his white and blue protection onto the floor. “There. All done.”

“Uh, uh,” he calls, wrapping a hand around your wrist when you try to escape. Your breath hitches. Your back hits against his chest. “Your turn, princess.” His fingers play with the hem of your dress, spreading out along the warmth of your thighs.

“Zip.” He leans back, moving a hand to slowly drag the zip along your spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder, your throat. “Beautiful girl.” You exhale, sharply, shifting the dress from your arms with a wriggle. “Fuckin’ Maker,” he huffs, reaching forrwards to skim his thumbs over your bare skin. You’re suddenly quite happy you wore the black, slightly sexy underwear rather than the black, completely mismatched pair you were rushing for a few hours earlier.

“You like it?”

“Who were you planning to snag at the club? Wolffe wouldn’t have lasted five minutes with you. He’s hard on the outside, soft on the inside.” Fives smooths the pads of his thumbs across your breasts, nipples hardened in the cups of your bra, before lowering his mouth to the crevice between them. He runs his tongue, slowly, carefully, along the cool silk of your skin. “Fox, maybe. No… no, he’d finish and kick you out. Rex? My Captain? My brother?” You gasp, cupping his face between your hands. “No. Too soft. Too slow.”

“What are you trying to say, Fives?”

“That I’m the brother for you.” You giggle, throwing your arms around his neck. “I promise, I promise from the bottom of my heart… I am the clone for you.” He offers a goofy smile.

“I trust you, Fives,” you whisper, brushing his nose with yours. “Do you still want to try it, though?” You stroke a finger down the nape of his neck. “Figure out whether I’m the woman for you?” He tucks an arm below your hips and hauls you up, up into the air.

“I already know.”

“You don’t even know my favourite colour… my favourite flavour of ice cream, my favourite meal!”

“All in good time. For now,” he busts open a door at random. “Good choice.” It’s the bedroom. A wide bed, perfect for ignoring alarms, and what seems to be, to Fives, a good throwing range. He tosses you onto the mattress, and you bounce, just a little, watching him from the head of the bed. “Comfortable, too.”

“Come here,” you call, springing onto your knees. Fives reaches over his head and tugs in one mighty pull, his shirt off. You swallow, dry-mouthed, when he displays deep bronze skin, six lines of ridged muscle, broad arms, broader shoulders. His grin grows.

“You like what you-”

“Yes.” You hook an arm around his neck and pull him back onto the bed, hauling him below you. Bare skin against bare skin, you tremble with every hot, silky-smooth touch he ghosts up your legs, over your knees, along the curve of your spine. You shift your hips against him, pressing purposely along the velvet length hidden in his blacks. Your fingers splay against his chest, sliding along his stomach, into the waistband of his trousers.

A husky gasp and a growl when your fingertips fuss through the downy triangle of hair at the very centre of those defined lines of muscle, a perfect V. He thrusts his hips up, planting himself at an angle on his elbows. You grin, wrapping a hand around his cock.

It’s broad, long, big enough to make you wince, and hot to the touch. You sweep a thumb over the tip, wetness pooling there somewhere, a drop, more than that, a rivulet running along the underside of the head.

“Fuckin’ hell.” You smile, capturing Fives in a hard, rough kiss. His teeth clack against yours, but he doesn’t care, all he seems to care about is keeping that pressure on his dick and keeping you right there, beside him. “Oh, Maker.”

“That feel good, soldier?”

“Pull rank on me and I’ll cum in your hand right now.” He grins. You sigh, tapping your chin with your free hand.

“What comes next, I wonder?” Fives growls, tossing you on your back in one hard motion. He kicks off his pants, exposing bulking, heavy thighs corded with muscle and a long, thick cock. You grin, going to crawl forwards, but Fives presses you to the bed with a hand.

“No, no. Just stay there.” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties. They’re lace and silk, elegant, and he tugs them down, slowly. “You’re beautiful.” You feel your body flush, Fives’ breath quickening against your stomach, your knees, the apex of your thighs, before he presses his mouth into your heat.

“Oh, Gods, give a little warning next time-” He squeezes the skin of your right thigh with a sigh, running his tongue up the liquid warmth between your legs, between your folds, along the petal-pink flesh, wet with desire. “Fives.”

“You’re sweeter than sugar, princess. Sweeter than anything.” He taps your hips and pins them into the bed, nose brushing your clit with dangerous precision. “So pretty, soft.” His tongue thrusts into you, gathering your slickness in one long motion. He moves his fingers slowly, carefully, along your skin, rubbing one against your entrance in a wolfish, evil way.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Hm?” Fives croons, biting softly at the skin of your thigh. “You say something?” He hums, licking his lips before shoving his face back between your legs. With the quick shift of his head, his finger eases into you, slowly, carefully. You groan, pushing your hand through his hair. His tongue is teasing at your clit, his finger shifting delicately inside you, slower than anything, but electrifyingly so.

“Fives, you tease,” you groan, eyes screwed shut. “Stop playing around.”

“You’re asking me to stop playing around?” He adds a second finger, stretching you to the knuckle. You hiss, a hand latching around his upper bicep like a vice. Fives grins. He pecks you twice on the hipbone, then returns his attention to between your legs. “I’m quite enjoying playing around.”

“You’re being a tease. I’d much rather give you attention- ah, fuck, fuck- too. Please,” you hiss, eyes shuddering back as he coaxes the oncomings of an orgasm out of you. A grin against your skin- you feel it. His teeth graze your skin, then his mouth latches onto you once more. Liquid heat burns through your gut, coiling you tight. “I’m going to…”

“Yes, pretty girl, give it to me.” He flicks his tongue over your clit. “Give it to me, Sugarplum. You got it, baby.”

You choke on a moan as your orgasm snatches you away. It’s a thrumming feeling, a wheeze that escapes through your lungs and burns you hot inside out. A grin spreads onto your face, your skin is vibrating, shivering under the still-relentless touch of Fives between your legs. He eases up onto the bed, then, smoothing your breasts into his hands.

“Perfect tits,” he whispers.

“How do you want me?” You ask, breathless, eyes still spotty-white from the blinding climax rushing between your legs, rendering you twitching, shaking.

“Get on your back for me?” He asks, pinching a nipple between two deft fingers. You keen, shuffling beneath him. Your hand snakes between his leg and slowly strokes his cock, carefully, quietly. Fives groans, capturing your mouth with his. A moan is lost into his tongue, wetting your lips then moving against them once more. He’s a battering ram- no mercy, a perfect soldier.

“Fucking hell, Fives,” you whisper, raking nails over his scalp. He moans. You feel your stomach drop to your feet. “You like that?” He nods, parting your legs with two rough, callused hands. Your fingers pull hard at his hair and he whines, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, sliding his hand between your legs once more. He plays with your clit, your hand around his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he rasps, nipping at your bottom lip. You let go of him, reaching up to slide your arms along the hot, hard planes of his back. Fives stares at you, just for a moment, eyes dark like smoke, before he grips himself and pushes against you. “Slow?”

“Whatever you want,” you whisper, mouth cracking open when he impales you carefully in one liquid thrust. “Oh, shit. Now is probably a good time to tell you I’m on suppressors.” Fives tries to speak, but his words are lost in a broken groan into the hot crook of your neck. Your nails push crescent moons into his shoulders, letting him stretch you carefully along his generous length. “Are you all your brothers… this big?”

Fives huffs a laugh, nose brushing your pulse.

“Weird question.”

“Yeah,” you gasp, fanning your face with a hand. “Yeah, you’re right.” You stifle a moan between your fingers, eyes ducking back into your head. “Fuck, fuck, Fives, just a little quicker.”

“Quicker?” His hips snap against yours with a sharpness you haven’t felt before. Your chest drops out, but he continues, thumbs digging into your hips when he tilts you upwards, finding the best angle. His fingers slide beneath the small of your back to suspend you there, perfect for his ruin, when he brushes his mouth over your nipple and ruts firmly into you. “That, ah- that better?”

“Hm, yeah, yes.” You slide a hand into the hair at the back of his head, eyes fluttering shut, mouth slipping open with every thrust of his hips, every shift of his cock inside you. “Yeah, baby, that’s better.” You scratch gentle nails over his back, admiring his warmth, before tugging carefully at his hair. He groans, pinning you into the bed.

Your eyes slide shut. Stars begin to speck behind them and you think he knows by the breathless laugh against your throat, then the broken moan into your jaw, your mouth. He tongues your mouth gently, bruising your lips swollen with the fervent touches.

“Fives-”

“Ah, yeah?”

“Touch me, just a little more,” you plead, nose brushes his as he pecks you once more, thumbing your right nipple, then finding your clit beneath a rough finger. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You like that, pretty girl?” He huffs, dragging his tongue along your throat. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Gods, yes, please!” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against your chest. Fives’ eyes disappear beneath his eyelids, his chest rumbling with soft, persistent groans every other thrust. You whine, pulling at his hair, scratching at his back.

“You’re a little… fuckin’... ah, keep pullin’.” You giggle, threading your fingers through his hair, kissing him twice on the mouth, once on the jaw, angling his head as you see fit. “Yeah, baby, that’s right. Tight little pussy.”

He squeezes your waist with one hand, still flicking at your clit with the other hand, desperate to chase your orgasm out of you, and it works, he gives you one in moments. You stiffen, back arching, fisting a hand in the sheets, the other smoothing over his neck. Your moan echoes in your bedroom, and Fives eggs you on with gentle praise.

“Good girl, yeah, keep… fuck,” he wheezes, hiding his face in your shoulder. His arms are so tight. “Can I move you?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you whisper, letting him shift you into a lower position, where he impales you so suddenly your breath hitches and you shriek, turning into a whimpering mess. “Oh, that’s so good!”

“That’s good?” He breaths, pupils almost completely lost in black-brown irises.

“Yes, Fives, it’s good,” you whisper, smothering your mouth against his with a giggle, a grin, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He grunts, releasing your clit to roll a nipple between finger and thumb. You hiss sharply against him, forcing your heels into his back to push him deeper, harder. “Harder, baby, please.”

He quickens his pace, the bed shaking a little under his force.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Sweet angel,” he reaffirms. “Heaven sent.” His fingers wrap around your free wrist, pinning it against the silken sheets below your head. Your back arches with the pressure, a grin spreading along your face. “Fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna cum.”

You hiss when he touches your clit, so eager, so painlessly prepared to give you what you want- another orgasm, more pleasure, anything. He coaxes it out of you, another climax, relishing in your writhing against him, your low whine in his ear, the shiver that follows, the sweat that slicks him head to toe.

“Fuck!” You cry, shuddering back into the sheets.

Fives’ hips falter, his eyes scrunching shut, his groans lower, deeper, until you wind a hand into his hair and kiss him once more, and his thrusts pause.

“Inside?”

“Yeah.”

He finishes, coating you with one hard grunt, a sharp sigh, his eyes finally opening to find yours, a grin eventually appearing on his tired features. You let him fill you, for a moment more, before he pulls away a little.

“Sorry,” he whispers, pulling out. You huff at the cool touch of air against the wetness sinking deep into your skin, and watch him do a quick double-take around the room for the bathroom. With a snort, you point at the door on the left. He punches the release and wanders in, clattering around.

“Under the sink, baby.”

“Yeah! I got it,” he calls, reappearing after the tap runs for a moment. He kneels between your legs and gently, softly, wipes the warm cloth over you until he’s satisfied you’re cleaned up well enough. “There, princess.”

“Thanks.”

He disappears back into the bathroom, and a wet slap suggests he’s just tossed the rag into the bath tub. An muffled ‘oops’ and there’s another sound of running water.

You stifle a giggle behind your hand, darting from the bed to snatch up his long-sleeve top. It had the Republic branded right in the middle, grey against the black, and you snuggle into it, sliding your arms into too-big sleeves. Fives reappears after a moment and grins, crooking a finger towards your shrouded form.

“Do you want me to go?” He asks, quietly, sincerely. “I’m assuming ‘no’ since you’ve stolen my shirt,” he hums.

“No, stay, please.” You usher him towards the bed, hands on his ass. You squeeze once with a snort and toss his trousers at him. He eases himself into them and pulls you into his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Better than okay.” Fives grins, craning his neck to kiss you softly on the mouth, the nose, the forehead. You stare helplessly at him, your heart suddenly quite warm, and collapse onto the bed. “Come sleep.” You pat the space beside you and watch as he slides himself in. “Never had a double?” His look of confusion is an easy tell.

“Nope.”

“Comfy?”

He turns, half buried in thick duvet and silk sheets. You can barely make out his nod but slide down beside him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He’s like a furnace- probably going to irritate you later in the night- but you relax against his chest.

“‘Night.”

“G’night, pretty baby.”

for the bbs always: @thegoodbatch @djangofetts @jangohshit @queenofheavenandhell

#fives x reader #fives #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #fives imagine #arc trooper fives imagine #fives smut #arc trooper fives smut #star wars #the clone wars #star wars smut #purely self satisfying

218 notes · View notes