#I wondered how much he planned to have his filmed moments before leaving serve as a sense of (temporary please temporary) closure | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungkxook · 4 years ago

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—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds.

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagine #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #jung wooyoung fluff #ateez fanfic #wooyoung imagines

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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Honey, I’m Home

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You’re not a normally an affectionate person but when Tom comes home from filming, you can’t keep your hands off him. He happily accepts your cuddles and fluff ensues

thank you to the anon who requested this! I deleted it on accident

Masterlist

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Honey, you’re home.” You ran into the room when you heard Tom’s announcement and threw your arms around Him. He stumbled back in surprise as he dropped his suitcase, not used to you showing affection. He wrapping his arms around your waist as you coiled your legs around his torso to keep yourself up, all while pressing kisses along his cheek. You pulled away briefly before grinning and pulling him into a long, well awaited kiss. It lingered much longer than usual before you pulled away, staying in his arms as your feet touched the ground again.

“Hi, darling.” He spoke softly as he rubbed your back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” You said as you took in his scent. “Never leave again.”

“I missed you most.” He smiled fondly, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I seriously doubt it.” You chuckled out of the corner of your mouth. Tom noticed you were still holding on to him and flushed a little. You’d hadn’t been dating very long, just a few months, but he was already well aware that you were not a very affectionate person. You were never cold to him, you just weren’t as into cuddling and touching as he was.

“What have you done today?” He asked you, keeping his arms firmly around your body.

“I’ve waited for you to come home.” You laughed. “And that’s about it.”

“Aw.” He grinned. “I’ve been counting down the minutes until I got to see you again.”

“Me too.” You leaned up on your tip toes to rub your nose against his. “Take me with you next time, okay?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He smiled and pulled you in to a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” You pouted as Tom began to walk away, feeling the urge to follow after him.

“The bathroom.” He told you, and you relaxed. “I’ve been in the car for four hours.”

“Oh.” You laughed lightly. “Right.”

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed your forehead before going to the bathroom. You sighed once he left and wheeled his suitcase into the bedroom, finding him washing his hands at the kitchen sink when you returned.

“There you are.” You came behind him and kissed his shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” He touched a hand to his stomach. “Do we have any food in the refrigerator?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged coyly. “Take a look.”

Tom gave you a knowing look before opening the refrigerator.

“Oh My God.” He looked at you over his shoulder. “You angel. You got the ingredients for a roast chicken.”

“Not just any roast chicken.” You came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “It’s that weird one you like with the apples on it. I was gonna make it for when you got home but I figured we could do it together.”

“You’re a genius.” He turned around and kisses both your cheeks. That’s why I love you.”

“I aim to please.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him. You let it linger longer than usual, but he wasn’t complaining.

“This is going to be so good.” Tom grinned once he pulled away. “I’ll start peeling the apples. Could you get started on the seasoning?”

“You got it.” You kissed him again before getting the chicken out of the refrigerator.

Tom went to the kitchen counter and began to wash and peel a few apples. After a few minutes, he felt your arms around his waist as your head rested on his shoulder.

“Hi.” You greeted as you kissed his shoulder a few times. Tom smiled to himself as he looked at you.

“Hey.” He said softly. “How’s the seasoning going?”

“All done. The chicken is marinating in it now.” You told him before peppering kisses along his shoulders and up his neck.

“Feels good, baby.” He mumbled as he stopped peeling the apples. He wiped his hands off on a paper towel and rested them on on top of yours.

“Well you’re doing such a wonderful job peeling those apples.” You giggled before kissing behind his ear.

“They’re almost done.” He told you. “What’s next?”

“We have to make the rice.” You said as you walked over to the cabinet.

“But we don’t eat rice.” He smiled, knowing what was coming.

“We eat quinoa.” You finished his thought as you handed him the quinoa. Tom chuckled as he took the quinoa and poured it into a pot.

“Hey.” You said suddenly, walking over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I missed you. I missed seeing your face everyday.”

“I missed you too, love. It’s not a good day for me unless my eyes meet yours.” He rested his forehead against yours as you scratched his scalp with your nails.

“Who knew you were such a poet?”

“Being away from you really put me in touch with my inner tortured artist. In other words, I cried every night.” He joked, making you laugh.

“Never leave me again.” You sighed as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. You swayed together in the kitchen for a moment, just staying in each other’s embrace.

“Not planning on it. I think you’re stuck with me forever, actually.” Tom told you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Sounds good to me.” You pressed a kiss to his neck just as your timer went off.

“Chickens ready to go in the oven.” You sighed and reluctantly pulled out of his embrace.

“I’ll put it in.” He offered. “How long?”

“30 minutes.” You answered.

“Okay.” Tom slid the chicken in the oven and shut the door. “I’m gonna unpack a little.”

“By unpack do you mean throw all your clothes in the hamper?” You raised on eyebrow at him as you squeezed his hand.

“Yes I do.” He pulled you by the hand into his body and gave you another kiss before retreating to the bedroom. You watched him leave before going to set the table, smiling widely when he came back into the kitchen.

“Hi honey.” You greeted as you set two plates on the table. “Did you unpack?”

“Yes. I’ll help you with the laundry tomorrow.” Tom promised, going to the oven to get the chicken out.

“Thank you.” You said as you set the drinks out. “I just want to sleep in and have a lazy day.”

“Trust me. Once I get in that bed with you I’m not leaving for a week.” Tom clicked his tongue as he pulled your chair out for you.

“Dirty boy.” You gasped as you sat down. Once you were both seated, you rubbed your foot against his leg just to keep contact.

“I meant for cuddles.” He whined, face flushing. “You’re very cuddly today.”

“Why thank you.” You gave him a poised smile while serving him some chicken.

“I’m not used to it.” He continued, trying to get an answer as to why you were especially clingy. “I know I’m a lover of snuggles and whatnot but you usually react like a cat being touched.”

“Aw. Just what every girl likes to hear.” You replied sarcastically as you held his hand on the table.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed your hand apologetically. “It’s a nice change.”

“Well I missed you.” You shrugged. “I didn’t get to touch you for two weeks. I’ve been building it up, you know?”

“I know the feeling. And the chicken was amazing.” Tom said as he wiped his face with his napkin. “Thank you so much for getting the stuff.”

“Of course. You work so hard. I wanted you to have a nice meal.” Your told him as you collected your plates. You kissed the top of his head before putting the dishes in the sink.

“I appreciate it.” He said as he turned around in his seat. “And I appreciate you putting my favorite sheets on the bed. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You walked over to him and draped your arms around his shoulder as you bent over.

“I’ll put the comforter in the dryer before we go to bed so it’s nice and toasty.” You whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek several times.

“How did I get so lucky?” He craned his neck to look at you fondly.

“I ask myself that everyday.” You kissed his neck and patted his shoulder before continuing to clean off the table.

“I’m gonna shower real quick.” Tom told you as he put the cups in the sink. “I feel gross form traveling all day.”

“Okay.” You frowned a little upon hearing he was going to be leaving again. Before he walked away, you tugged on his shirt and kissed him. He chuckled against your lips when he pulled away and let out a sigh.

“You really missed me, huh?” He teased.

“You have no idea.” You sighed. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.” He promised as he left for the bathroom. He showered quickly, also feeling the tug at his heartstrings from being away from you. He dried off and got dressed as fast as he could before taking a seat in the living room.

“Hey.” Tom smiled up at you when you padded into the room. You climbed into his lap and curled up against his body, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to stay in place.

“Hey.” You snuggled into his chest and took in a whiff. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.” He chuckled and rubbed your back in circles.

“Did you clean behind your ears?” You teased as you looked up at him.

“I did.”

“Good.” You looked down again and held him tighter. “They’re kinda hard to miss.”

“Hey.” He pretended to be offended, smiling when he felt your body shake with laughter.

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you toyed with the strings of his sweat pants. “Just teasing.”

“Are you okay?” Tom asked finally. As much as he appreciated all your affection, it was very out of character for you.

“Yeah.” You assured him. “Just missed you, is all.”

“You’re never this affectionate.” He pointed out. “Is something bothering you?”

“No.” You said and took your head off his shoulder. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No!” Tom practically shouted and pulled you right back. “I like it. I love it, actually.”

He bent down to press kisses all over your face, a giggle emitted from your lips each time he did. Once your laughter died down, you looked up at him and stroked his cheek.

“Does it bother you that I’m not an affectionate person?” You whispered as you traces his freckles with your fingernail.

“I mean, I’d love to be doing this all day every day, but I want you to be comfortable. That’s more important to me than anything else.” He told you. “My love language is touch but yours isn’t, and I’m okay with that.”

You smiled fondly at him and sat up a little so your faces were close.

“Tommy?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He matched your tone.

“This was the first time you were away, and it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?” He tilted his head as the setting sun lit up his eyes.

“I love you.” You smiled shyly as you told him. “And I don’t like being apart from you.”

“Aw, darling.” He put his hand on your cheek and rubbed his thumb softly against your face. “I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #iron man

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vympirestake · 3 years ago

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I LOVE Brahms(didn't like the second film😖) what do you think about Brhams SO who make a the doll a version of herself so it won't be alone anymore , and just filled with fluffy stuff(plus Brahms natural voice is sooooo sexy 😍😈😉)

I'm 🥺🥺

warnings: fluff

if anything could make brahms soft it would be seeing his sweet s/o taking such good care of his doll

showing it how to play piano, reading to it, even tucking it in at night all made brahms fall a little deeper in love with you

when he finally revealed himself, the doll had become somewhat neglected in your care and attention

thats not to say you forgot about it, its more that brahms requires a lot of attention and you simply didn't have time to handle both the doll and the man at once

your unintentional lack of care for the doll had begun to bother you, though

having taken care of doll-brahms for so long (and without anyone else for company) you got very attached to it

now seeing it alone and slumped over so sadly made your heart ache with a want to fix it

brahms does keep some doll supplies on hand, mostly for his own uses with upkeep and whatnot

for you, however, using those might be a bit risky as brahms would definitely find out your little plan way too soon

not to mention that he would likely be upset to find his (probably very expensive) materials had been used

so this can go one of two ways:

either you could buy materials from town to make a cloth doll

which would be great because a. its soft so therefore good for cuddle time and b. it would be fairly easy to make

or you could order a porcelain doll with the money from babysitting (given you won't need it as brahms isn't letting you leave anytime soon and he's definitely got cash) to keep with the style of brahms own doll

we do love a good matching couple

either way, once the mini you is in your grasp, brahms is in for a wonderful little suprise

*****

Everything was absolutely perfect.

The doll, shaped into your own likeness, that you had so painstaking prepared was finally ready. Now, seeing it placed next to the doll matching your husband's own features, you feel completed. Happy. And you just know Brahms is going to adore it, too.

Moving away from the newly acquainted couple, you make your way through the winding halls of your new home. It wont be long now before Brahms finds the two dolls. But you want him to be alone when he, eventually, does. For as much as you know he'll love it, you can never be completely certain on whats going on in Brahms's mind.

With that thought in mind, you find some menial housework to finish. Cleaning some dishes here, folding a few blankets there, simple things to keep you occupied for a short while. After having been in the house, and living with Brahms for long, you knew you couldn't know when he would show again. The gentle silence of the Heelshire manor that once kept you awake at night now lulled you into a quiet rhythm.

That is to saw, normally Brahms barely made noise when he walked, living in an old attic for the majority of your life will do that. But now his footsteps were heavy and clearly moving quickly through the manor halls. It was only a moment before the man was tugging your arm in the direction he came from, giving out small child-like noises and whines of your name the whole way. You, despite having just been throughly scared, giggled at his excitement and followed along.

"What is... this?" The dolls now sat before you two, Brahms finger pointed towards the newest addition.

"Well," yoy hesitated a moment before continuing, "that's a doll of me, Brahms." You took another moment again, watching as Brahms cocked his head to the side. "I figured since we're together, and your doll has been so lonely lately. I would give him his own, well, me."

You watched as the man before you processed this new information. He had also understood the doll has served its purpose and could now be semi-retired, given the current circumstances. But you weren't sure if he would like having a doll version of you around, especially considering how his own doll came into existence.

Before you could begin to explain yourself, Brahms lunged toward you. Nearly sending the both you flying to ground as he just about tackled you into a desperate embrace. Once the shock wore off you returned the tight hold you now found yourself in.

A quiet mumble then came from Brahms. "Thank you, I love them." His grip tightened then. Brahms had known completely that you love him. Though it wasn't until this moment, this simple action, that made him finally realize you love him and want to stay with him.

You let out a small huff of laughter, though at this point it could almost have been from sheer relief, and relaxed into Brahms chest.

It couldn't have been more than a moment that you two stood there enveloped in love and understanding before Brahms stepped away to finally inspect the newest addition to the manor. You watched with a wide smile how he so very gently felt the cloth of the clothes, then ran a delicate finger over the small cheek, before feeling over its hair.

After some time of looking over the mini-you Brahms finally looked back up. Despite the porcelain mask you could tell there was an aching smile on his face and you couldn't help but feel that you would do anything to make him smile like that forever.

#catch me rewatching the part where he yells at gretta to stay just to hear his voice again 😖#mine #x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #yeah i said husband #ofc brahms finds a ring of his mothers and puts it on your finger one day #thats it yall are married congrats #this is so fucking late but to be fair everything i put out in the near futute will be so mass apologizes #i do be slow

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years ago

Text

IOTA Reviews: Rocketear

The Rocketeer is a 1991 Disney movie set in 1930's America where a test pilot gets a jetpack and uses it to fight Nazis and— Wait, what? “Rocketear”? Oh, damn it!

Let's get into the eleventh (chronologically the seventeenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Rocketear.

We start off with Carapace and Cat Noir struggling to hold back some T-Rexes brought back to life by a scientist Jurassic Park style. Seriously, they reference the movie in the same scene.

Why wasn't this the plot of the episode again?

After managing to tame the dinosaurs with a whistle of all things, Ladybug notices something's wrong with Nino after he gives the Turtle Miraculous back to her. Apparently, he's wondering why Rena Rouge (who he knows is Alya) wasn't recruited with him today. Ladybug tells him that he was the only help she needed today. In reality, it's because Alya has adjusted to her new role of supporting Ladybug behind the scenes in her new form, Rena Furtive.

And I'm not a fan of the new form. I get the camo, but it doesn't really help her blend in when her suit is bright blue. I think it's based off the arctic fox, but that animal is able to camouflage itself because it's fur matches the snowy environment. I'm sure a bright blue jumpsuit won't stand out when she tries to blend in at all. Also, the fact that Alya can just change her hero form gives even less excuses as to why Ladybug's new form is only when she uses her Lucky Charm.

Alya is struggling to keep this a secret from Nino because they don't have a lot of secrets in their relationship. Marinette says she can kind of get it because she had to keep her identity a secret from her friend and has to keep keeping her identity a secret from everyone else. Basically, she's telling Alya to suck it up because this is what being a superhero is.

So the next time she sees Nino, Alya tells him she's no longer Rena Rouge, but not about Rena Furtive, which troubles her. The very next scene shows Alya showing Marinette pictures she took of her new costume and asking her which version looks better.

You could always try reviewing Akuma fights. I heard there's one blog that does it when they're not criticizing the famous director Thomas Astruc on social media.

Yeah, in case you can't tell, Alya was only able to rent her brain for a few episodes because she really doesn't seem as understanding about being a superhero as she was in earlier episodes. In episodes like “Optigami” and “Sentibubbler”, we saw Alya use more strategy and show discretion as Rena Rouge, seemingly taking her job more seriously, but then this episode just had to go and piss it all away. I also love how the first time the animators made Alya's skin the same when she's transformed is in a single frame for a joke.

Alya thankfully deletes the picture, but Nino overhears her talking about struggling to find more content for the Ladyblog, and decides to go to the movies with her to help take her mind off things. Nino, in turn, proceeds to give the same reaction to the in-universe Ladybug movie that Astruc gives to the PV.

Apparently, that movie's already getting a sequel and it has a teaser. So was the sequel animated at the same time as the original like Back to the Future Part II and Back to the Future Part III?

Nino gets pissed the next movie in the Ladybug Cinematic Universe will feature Rena Rouge and not Carapace... even though Rena Rouge debuted first. The teaser then shows Rena Rouge falling for Cat Noir (yet another creative liberty taken by the writers or something Astruc's self-insert threw in himself), and takes it like it's the real thing. Dude, the first movie said Ladybug was afraid of cats, and the director yelled at the person it was based on for judging it. He clearly has a hard time distinguishing fiction from reality.

Alya leaves Nino early so she can go on patrol, but Nino sees Cat Noir heading out as well. He then watches a video on the Ladyblog where Alya praises Cat Noir which is totally not Astruc projecting or anything.

I don't know what your definition of a prince is, Alya, and I honestly don't want to know.

So Nino takes this as evidence that Alya is in love with Cat Noir and decides to tell Adrien, who naturally laughs him off. And just before you think we have an episode where Adrien plays the straight man, Adrien decides to visit Alya because he's afraid he accidentally charmed Alya.

Yes, because Cat Noir is so charming, girls are just fighting over him, aren't they?

We then cut to a black and white film noir monologue by Nino (dressed like a detective with a fake mustache), who decides to spy on Alya. When Cat Noir asks Alya if she is attracted to him, she naturally laughs him off, though Cat Noir is thankfully a good sport about it, even giving her a hug to apologize. Unfortunately, Nino took this the wrong way.

The next day at school, Nino takes Adrien into his “office” (it's really an excuse to reuse the boiler room setpiece), and shows him the picture of the hug. Adrien says that Alya would never fall for Cat Noir because she's always dedicated to finding out the truth and telling her boyfriend everything. What's Nino's retort?

Okay, several problems with this bit. First of all, why would Nino even tell Adrien any of this? What would it accomplish? Why not say all this to Alya while confronting her about her alleged unfaithfulness? Second, Ladybug didn't give Nino and Alya their Miraculous at the same time until it was an absolute emergency. She outright said in “Hero's Day” that she didn't have time to recruit Nino and Alya separately.

Ladybug: I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. I know I'm revealing your secret identities but I don't have time to find a good excuse to give them to you separately. Rena Rouge and Carapace, I need you both!

Nino and Alya kept their identities secret from each other until then, with Alya even keeping the fact she knew who Carapace was a secret as well. Nino didn't find out because “they don't hide anything from each other” (which I plan to talk about later).

Other than that, I actually liked Adrien in this scene. It was really investing to see him try to justify the whole secret identities rule while Nino blatantly said there was an exception. This is the kind of stuff I wanted to see when it came to Adrien doubting Ladybug, not him destroying things in his anger.

While Nino rants about how Cat Noir “stole” Alya from him, Shadowmoth sends an Akuma his way, turning him into Rocketear.

And the design he has is just boring. It's just a blue jumpsuit with some black spots that look like teardrops, a teardrop-shaped head and a visor. I think the reason this season's been relying more on past Akumas and using more Sentimonsters is because DQ is terrible at character designs. I mean, compare this suit with Aigraon from Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (his Power Rangers counterpart is Wrench from Dino Charge).

The design does so much more with the teardrop motif, giving him a perpetually miserable face with tear lines going all over his body. Add that to a more diverse color scheme, and you have a much more visually stunning design. And this was created in real life, not rendered on a computer. I'm not sure if this is a budget thing or a laziness thing, but if it's the former, you really need to do better, animators.

The powers are meh, giving Nino the ability to fling explosive tears at enemies. It's a clever idea, and it makes sense he gets a power that parallels Cat Noir's, but I think maybe it would have been more interesting if he couldn't control the tears at all. Like, imagine if he was constantly crying like Blue Diamond, and with every tear he shed, Rocketeer could send it at whoever he felt was causing him misery, mainly Cat Noir, all while serving as a metaphor for people who blame others for their own personal issues. Better yet, make him look like the detective outfit Nino wore for the second act. It would have made him more unpredictable instead of making his tears generic projectile weapons.

Marinette and Alya see the fight and transform into Ladybug and Rena Furtive respectively, the former summoning her Lucky Charm, a projector. Is it just me, or has this been happening with Ladybug a lot recently?

Back to Rocketear, we get a good moment where Cat Noir intentionally lets the Akuma hit him so he can get a chance to resolve things diplomatically. See, this is a moment where Cat Noir's self-sacrificing nature feels heroic and not selfish like when he does it without Ladybug's permission to spite her. Unfortunately, it doesn't really go anywhere as Ladybug shows up and plays the recording Nino took (Alya found his phone earlier), while Rena Furtive uses her Mirage to give the audio to what actually happened that night.

Rena transforms back into Alya and embraces Rocketear, who apologizes to her for his behavior. And then he just... rejects Shadowmoth's power while looking like it wasn't that much effort.

At least when Chloe and Alya did it, we saw them struggling for a little longer. I guess maybe it's because Nino is motivated by his love for Alya, but I think it should have been fleshed out more. So Ladybug purifies the Akuma, gives Nino a Magical Charm, and Cat Noir is still unsure about his feelings for Ladybug at the moment, though they still pound it.

Back in his room, Adrien ponders why Alya and Nino get to know their identities while he and Ladybug can't, but Plagg points out it's because she's the Guardian. It's brief, but I do like seeing Adrien start to doubt Ladybug's judgment, and it looks like it'll foreshadow future episodes. This is a problem I've had since “Hero's Day”, and I'm glad the writers are finally acknowledging this double standard. I just hope they don't end up blaming Marinette for whatever happens later on.

Marinette, of course, apologizes for what happened between Alya and Nino, and I have to say... yeah, no. It's obviously Nino's fault here.

Nino really pushed personal boundaries in this episode, much like Marinette's friends in “Gang of Secrets”. Yes, honesty is a valuable trait, but sometimes, people have secrets they want to keep to themselves. Nino's idea of “not hiding anything from each other” is somewhat controlling, like he's demanding Alya tell him everything whether she wants to or not. The fact that he immediately assumed Alya was cheating on him without giving her freedom to make her own choices doesn't make him look good. Let's be honest, a more realistic outcome would be Alya choosing to break things off with Nino or at least lecture him about how she can do what she wants and keep the secrets she wants. But instead...

And that's how the episode ends.

Okay, Marinette just said she trusted Alya to make the right decision, but I highly doubt she meant this. Marinette strictly said Alya had to keep Rena Furtive a secret, and now she's telling Nino this despite the risk? The whole reason Marinette and Luka broke up was because Marinette had to keep her secrets from Luka, but now it's okay for Alya to be completely honest? How is this not a double standard?

This episode was just dull, and there’s not even much I can really say about it.. There were a handful of standout moments, and the stuff with Adrien was somewhat compelling, but Nino's behavior was just insufferable and dragged the episode down. The Akuma fight was weak, only lasting about four minutes at most, and while the Lucky Charm was more creative this time, the plot was just frustrating. It's really one of the weaker episodes this season.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch the better Rocketeer.

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intangibly-here · 4 years ago

Text

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

————————————————————

zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

————————————————————

“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames...

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink.

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands.

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist.

swallowtail.

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one.

and well, here he is now.

chop. chop.

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is.

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger.

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway.

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?”

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense.

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward.

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance.

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo.

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far...

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb.

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her.

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab.

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?”

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly.

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register.

“come again.”

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them.

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you.

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own.

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it.

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no?

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully.

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.)

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however— with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls.

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment.

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously.

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance.

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house.

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.)

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off.

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait.

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another.

right now, he needs you.

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him.

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his.

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?”

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

#zhongli #genshin impact #fluff #jealousy #zhongli x gn!reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #request #cecilia

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

Text

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria.

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products.

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else -

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF.

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

💙 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years ago

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Bobby’s Playdate Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Chapter 2 of4

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Fourth and Final Part Will Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren @loki-laufeyson965 @ohhhhmarkiloosecontrol @ghostypau @queeftheif @mousee555 @isimpforeveryonee @preferredrealty

He was being a right arse, and what was worse he knew it.

Tom grimaced as he stirred his bolognaise sauce. So, she knew who he was, and had all along – what did that really change? Why did it make him so uncomfortable that she hadn’t said anything? After all, he had known as well and he certainly hadn’t brought it up. Was he upset that she had known and hadn’t fawned all over him? Could he really be that shallow? He had liked that she was just herself, allowing him to be himself as well. What was it then that was bothering him?

The timer rang for the pasta and he reached over to grab the oven mitt that usually hung by his stove and grimaced. Of course, he had put it away in the closet because it had a big, red Avengers logo on it. All of that running around he had done, stressing out Bobby and working up a sweat, and it had all been entirely pointless. He felt like the biggest idiot of all time.

Which was the problem, of course. Tom was used to being multiple steps ahead of everyone. He wasn’t conceited about it, well, not exactly, but he was quite often the smartest person in the room. He credited his teachers and a topnotch education, as well as his family of course, more than his own keen powers of observation. He had simply been taught from a young age how to think. It was an invaluable tool as an actor. It also meant that he was often left waiting for others to catch up. He was not, decidedly not, used to being the one feeling foolish for being wrong.

Yup. He was a complete and total arse.

Here he had a beautiful woman in his home, when he had begun to despair of such a thing ever being allowed again, much less happening. She was smart, charming, funny, and kind enough to realize that being a celebrity must be exhausting and discussing it could get tedious. And how had he repaid her for her consideration? By running out of the room and leaving her doubtless wondering at his manners, if not his sanity.

Tom dipped a spoon in and tasted the sauce. This had better be the best meal he had ever made if he wanted to make up for the mess he had made of things so far!

“Everything okay in here?” Leia’s voice asked from the kitchen doorway as Tom was using a tea towel to carry the pasta pot to the strainer in the sink.

“Aside from you spending the evening with a complete prat, everything is fine,” he said with a self-depreciating laugh.

“You know, there are things called oven mitts,” she grinned at him. “Maybe we should go online and order you some.”

“I have them,” he sighed. “I put them away for tonight.”

“So you could experiment with first degree burns? Is that research for a role or something?”

“They were… branded.”

“Like a cow?” she blinked at him.

“No… like Marvel. Avengers branded. So, I hid them.”

“Tom,” Leia was obviously trying to hide a grin that tugged at the edges of her mouth, “did you hide all your movie memorabilia before I came over? Is that why your house looks like the display room from an upscale furniture store rather than a lived-in home?”

“Maybe,” he mumbled, face turning red as he looked back at the stove.

“That must have been a lot of work. How long did it take you?”

“Most of the day. What are you doing?” he asked at the strange contortions her face was making.

“Trying to visualize the reverse scavenger hunt. Hold on…” she scrunched up her nose and he could see her picturing his lunacy in her mind. “Okay, that was fun!”

“Glad I could amuse you,” he grumbled.

“As every good host would be!” she grinned at him. “And then Lulu went and ruined it by digging up the Loki toy. Well, leave it to the Trickster God to upset the best laid plans. But really, is it such a big deal that I know?”

Tom closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She really was being sweet about the whole fiasco of his running into the house. Perhaps, if he could regain some of his own composure, it didn’t have to be the biggest fumble in the history of first dates. He just had to take a cue from her and try to find the situation amusing rather than humiliating.

“It is not,” he said at last. “Thank you for taking it all so well. Now, dinner is almost ready, I just need to put it on the plates.”

“My I use the loo then?” she asked.

“Of course. Second door on your right.”

“Thanks. I’ll meet you back outside. Oh, and be careful – Lulu may look innocent, but she will steal any food off your plate if you turn your back on her!”

“Wonderful, then she and Bobby will have even more to bond over,” he remarked, rolling his eyes.

“Between the two of them we’ll be lucky if there’s any food left for us.”

“Good thing I made extra then.”

“Oh, before I go – there are still hand towels in the bathroom, right? They didn’t get squirreled away for having horns on them or something?”

“No, the hand towels are purely Only Lovers Left Alive, and I assumed that was enough of a deep dive to keep any but the most ardent fan in the dark.”

“You’d be surprised, people love a good vampire flick!” she teased, as she headed off down the hall.

Tom took another steadying breath. So, she not only knew of him from the Avengers franchise, and from the London stage, but she had seen at least one of his indie films as well. Which meant, he suddenly realized, that she had seen more of him than he had realized. Squirming a bit, he plated the food and carried it outside. He would be sure not to bring up high rise, he decided. He had heard rumors about people pausing the playback on a certain scene, and he preferred to stay in the dark about her exposure to that.

By the time Leia joined him out at the table, Tom had managed to calm down a bit. He would have needed to tell her about his job eventually any way; at least now he could enjoy the rest of the evening without the fear of her reaction hanging over his head. The food had served up nicely, and he poured a friendly serving of wine into each of their glasses. Bobby and Lulu were already sniffing around at his feet, hoping for clumsy hands to drop offerings to their greedy mouths.

“Back off you two hellions,” he told them good naturedly. “Haven’t you already done enough damage tonight to the possibility of my getting a second date?”

***

Leia froze in the doorway, eyes going large. Had she heard that right? Had Tom just used the word date to describe the evening?

She had hoped it was a date, of course. She had even called it one to herself and her dog as she was getting ready. Still, she had not quite been able to convince herself that it was anything more than what he had sold it as – a playdate opportunity for their canine companions. After all, a handsome, charming, world famous movie star such as him could date anyone. Why would he want to be with her when the entire glamourous world was his for the taking?

Looking down, she realized that her hands were shaking. His befuddlement at the discovery of his identity had been charmingly adorable, and it had the wonderful side affect of allowing her to feel less awkward herself to see him so out to sea. It gave her back a modicum of power. That was gone now with one word from him that she was not even meant to hear.

“Oh, hi!” he smiled, seeing her in the door and standing up like the perfect gentleman he was despite their outside, casual location. “Dinner’s served.”

“It smells divine,” she told him, and rolled her eyes inwardly at the gushing word.

“Well, I am a God you know,” he smirked, and then blushed and looked embarrassed.

What was happening? They had been so comfortable outside in the park! Just two regular adults enjoying each other’s company and the relatively fresh air of suburban London. Now though, now that she knew he meant it as a date, and he knew she knew he was an actor it was all awkward.

“So, do you have any mischief in mind for tonight?” she asked.

“I suppose that depends on how the night goes,” he gave her a devastating wink.

Wait, was he flirting with her now? Ack! She didn’t know what to think, but her body certainly responded to that comment. Wanting a distraction, she shoved a forkful of pasta in her mouth and let out an involuntary moan of pleasure at the delicious taste.

“Is it okay?” he asked, despite her clear approval of his efforts.

“It’s amazing!” she told him, as soon as her mouth was empty. “Jesus Tom, on top of everything else you can cook too?”

“Eh heh heh heh,” he laughed, obviously delighted. “I’m afraid I am full of flaws, but I will do my best to hide them from you for as long as possible. I’m glad you like it.”

“You’ll have to give me the recipe!” she demanded, taking a long drink of the wine that paired perfectly with it.

“Ah no. If I do that, what incentive will there be for you to come back?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” she looked up at him over her wine glass. “After all, Lulu is having such a good time, she would never forgive me if I deprived her of more free time with Bobby.”

“Right. Yes. Lulu and Bobby.”

“It’s why we’re here, after all,” she shrugged, not knowing why she was pushing it so hard.

“Oh, I almost forgot!”

Tom shot out of his chair, startling the dogs who both started yipping in irritation. He jogged into the house, and a moment later came out with a beat’s pill speaker in hand. Placing it on the table, he fiddled with it until music straight out of a café in Venice started crooning out of it.

“The perfect final touch!” he said proudly.

“I can almost see the canal in the distance!” she told him with a laugh.

“I would pole you out, but I’m afraid my boat is not handy.”

He suddenly blushed again, and Leia had a quick flash of where his mind had gone. They both turned crimson and occupied themselves with the food for a few minutes in charged silence.

Leia could feel the tension sparking between them, but she had no idea how to act upon it. She could not think of any time in her past where she had been in a similar situation. How could she have been, when she had never met a man in her life like the one sitting across from her.

The song switched to a slower song, still Italian, and she noticed that Tom was tapping his fork against his plate in rhythm with it. He noticed her gaze and chuckled, eyes twinkling.

“You should see me with spoons,” he told her.

A moment later, he was on his feet again (really, he seemed incapable of sitting still tonight) and placing his napkin on his chair. Holding out one hand to her he raised his eyebrows in question.

“May I have this dance?”

As Leia hesitated, he face fell. Stepping back, Tom put his hands behind his back and dropped his head apologetically.

“I am so sorry,” he rushed to say. “I completely forgot. Of course, we are in the middle of a pandemic. The last thing we should be doing is dancing. Hands touching, standing close together. I am so, so sorry.”

“Tom, Tom!” Leia interrupted his contrition. “Stop apologizing! If I was concerned about catching the virus from you, I wouldn’t be eating the food you cooked! We both got tested, remember?”

“Are you sure, because you didn’t look –“

“I was worried about crushing your feet,” she admitted, stepping towards him. “I am not exactly what you would call graceful.”

“Well, I am hardly Baryshnikov,” he demurred. “But if you’ll allow me…”

He offered his hand again, and this time Leia took it. It was the first time they had touched, and she almost jumped at the spark that passed from his fingers to hers. His grip was firm, and he drew her in so that she was held firm against his chest. His other arm came around to rest his hand on her lower back, and she had to remind herself to breath as she was held in his embrace.

“Look at me,” he said as she obeyed instantly. In part it was because it was what she wanted to do, but it was also a reaction to the note of command in his voice. Even though it was soft, there was a note in it that was to be obeyed. “Good girl.”

As he led her around the little yard in what she realized was a waltz, Leia felt her last bit of restraint melting away. She wanted this man desperately and there was no denying it. His hips moving against her, his hand burning a hole through her dress, his low singing along with the song, it all had her ready to drop to her knees and beg him to take her.

“I love dancing,” he said, stating the obvious. “Especially with the right partner.”

“Sorry you’re missing that,” she tried for humor.

“Quite the contrary,” he didn’t rise to the bait, looking her straight in the eye and keeping his voice serious. “I can think of no one else I would rather be dancing with. You must know that you are all that has made the last month bearable. I look forward to our afternoon walks more than I can say.”

“Me too,” she whispered, tongue swiping over her lips. She saw his eyes flicker to them and then return to hers slightly darker.

Her breath caught and she was certain that he was going to kiss her when a loud crashing noise brought them both up short. Spinning around, they saw Tom’s plate laying on the ground, Lulu and Bobby shamelessly sharing the spoils of their raid like a modern day Lady and Tramp.

“Bobby! Bad dog!” Tom barked, advancing on them.

“Oh, Lulu! You naughty girl!” Leia scolded at the same time.

As Tom advanced on them, the dogs took off in the direction of the tree, trailing sauce in their wake. Tom stomped after them, eyes narrowed while Leia picked up the plate and mopped up some of the mess with his napkin.

“Bobby, stay!” Tom snapped, snapping his fingers.

Bobby dropped to his haunches with a whimper while Lulu headed back towards Leia and the remaining food.

“You too, sit girl!”

He snapped again and Leia, on sheer instinct, set the plate down with a clatter and sat on the chair, hands folding in her lap and eyes looking up towards him, Lulu sitting at her feet.

Tom’s face, facing her, went completely still for one long moment. Leia could feel a nervous energy rise in her stomach until a slow, Cheshire cat smile spread across his face. The dogs forgotten, he looked at her with a sparking intensity that made her weak as he crossed to where she sat.

“Well,” he drawled, “isn’t that interesting.”

#Tom Hiddelston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #bobby hiddleston #Bobby is the best wingman!#pandemic #quarantine #dating during covid #falling in love #fluff #mild angst #flirting #Tom is ridiculous #puppy love #Bobby's Playdate #romance #bolognaise #dancing

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jatphatones · 4 years ago

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Just Soothes the Soul | Owen Joyner x Reader

Hello! Okay so first off huge fan and secondly, at the moment I am IN LOVE with the idea of cute, dorky/domestic fiancé Owen. I was wondering if you could do a fic about how him and reader have to get ready for an eventful day (Owen doesn’t want to get out of bed/keep his fiancé with him) however that night they are at a party for their friends but all they want to do is spend time together... however It is a little harder then they thought it would be?

Hi! So I casually came up with an Owen x reader fic idea when I was talking to my friend (randomly about weddings and how we would embarrass our roommate at hers in like 15 years) but a cutesy fic were reader and Owen are either dating (and having a good time at somebody’s wedding reception OR they are having a grand old time with friends and family/the cast (in the future) at their own reception.

A/N: so I decided to mix two requests together and I also just watched Risky Business for the first time today so this is what came out of it. I haven’t had time to edit it, but idgaf it was so much fun to write. Enjoy xx

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, drinking, typos

Masterlist

||||||

When you look to your right, there’s a familiar, warm tingling in the back of your mind at the sight of the ruffled blonde hair splayed out on the pillow next to you. Its presence comes around more often now that the vacancy on your left ring finger has vanished. The engagement ring sitting prettily on your hand serves as a reminder that the figure drooling next to you will be drooling next to you forever.

As the morning haze starts to clear from your mind, you check your phone while Owen sleeps away. He’s been home for only just a week after wrapping up filming for one of his shows and you know that he needs about that much time to recover and settle back to normalcy. Yet, with one of your college friends getting married, you reluctantly stretch and start mentally preparing for the day. A slight grunt snaps you out of your planning and the shift in the blanket indicates that your fiance is starting to wake up as well.

“Good morning honey,” you whisper, turning to face the snuggled up man, piercing blue eyes hidden behind his heavy eyelids. His eyes flutter open when you start to card through his hair, pushing it off his face and letting the sunlight touch his cheeks.

“Morning,” he grunts. He lets out a muttered apology when he tries to pull you into his side but ends up knocking the wind out of you when his arm clumsily lands on your stomach. When you finally cuddle into his chest, he lays a lazy kiss on your forehead and yawns. “What time is it?”

“It’s time for us to get ready for Katie’s wedding,” you inform him. His bare abs clench and then relax when you start drawing random circles on them. Your perfectly manicured red nails contrast against his pale skin.

He groans, knowing exactly how much energy today is going to take. Owen’s excited for it, don’t get him wrong, but with the way your eyes are half-lidded from sleepiness and your calming touch, he didn’t even want to consider leaving your bed.

“Do we have to go? Can we just stay here all day? We can still send them their wedding gifts because that’s all engaged couples care about anyways,” he grumbles, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

“No, we can’t just send them their gift and bail,” you scoff playfully, “besides, you know Katie would murder me if I didn’t come.”

“True, and I don’t really like the idea of my fiance dying before I ask for wedding gifts myself.”

“Me neither,” you look up at him and see a tired smile emerge from another yawn. Not able to contain yourself, you reach up and place your lips on him, reveling in the gentle caress of his lips. He reveals his more awakened state by deepening the kiss until he’s hovering over you and tangling his tongue with yours.

“Mmmmm, I know what you’re trying to do,” you whisper against Owen’s mouth. He ignores your statement and dives back in. You play along for just a few more seconds, but pull away before you get too lost in his tender kisses. “That’s enough lover boy. We gotta get out of bed.”

Owen hangs his head in defeat, unknowingly making some of his blonde hair fall into your mouth. You push him off with a sputter, playfully scolding him for being so difficult. Yet, even with his petty pout and determination to keep the bed warm, Owen can’t resist your invitation to a shower. He just about trips over the blanket while scrambling right into your bathroom with you.

“Aren’t you glad we got out of bed this morning?” You say into Owen’s ear. He only gives you an eye roll as he claps along with the rest of the crowd.

Katie and her now husband make a grand entrance into the reception, loved ones left and right cheering for the happy couple as they walk to the front of the hotel ballroom. When the crowd dies down, light chatter fills the air as everyone starts to dig into their food.

You’d barely had time to talk to Owen in between all the catch up with friends. While you caught up with your college friends, he caught up with the boyfriends. Even now, as you sit side by side, you’re drawn into separate conversations. That doesn’t stop your fiance from leaving a loving hand on your knee while you two happily engage with other people.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Brody, one of your other college friends, catches your attention and all of a sudden the whole table grows curious at Brody’s beckoning.

“What’s up?” your curiosity grows into dread as a shit eating grin spreads across your old friend’s face. You start to anticipate the worst trouble he could ask but it doesn’t work.

“Have you not told Owen about your notorious title in college?”

There’s mixed reactions around the whole table. Laughter and giggles clash with the taunts and jeers, but you focus on the haughty but questioning smirk painted on Owen’s face. He squeezes your knee when you groan and place your hands on your warm face.

“I don’t think she has. Pray tell what it was, babe?” Owen teases, anticipating a very good story behind this mysterious title. You send Brody daggers, but he shrugs it off with ease.

You sigh and mutter it to Owen. His mouth opens in shock as he announces your answer.

“Whiskey Business?” he starts dying with laughter like everyone else and you scrunch your nose.

“Babe, stop laughing,” you whine.

“Oh my god whiskey business that’s hilarious. How did you get that name?” he asks once he settles down and catches his breath. Too embarrassed to explain, you signal for Brody to answer which he gladly obliges.

“Little miss Y/N over here got so drunk drinking whiskey for the first time...was it sophomore year? Yeah, sophomore year. Anyways, she got so wasted that she thought she could do the Tom Cruise slide from ‘Risky Business’ and ended up crashing into the beer pong table, spilling all the beer. We don’t know what it is about whiskey, but she will end up trying to do the slide every time she drinks it. Hence, Whiskey Business.”

“That’s amazing,” Owen responds, looking at you in a whole different light while you suffer in your seat.

“Thank you, Brody, for exposing me,” you snap lightly, not really that offended by your friend. He only raises his glass to you as Owen still stares at you in awe. Everyone else chuckles throughout this whole story and eventually gets back to their own conversations.

“How come you never told me about this?” Owen asks once he finally has some alone time with you. He throws an arm around the back of your chair, boxing you in so that you can’t escape answering his question.

“Because it’s embarrassing and honestly such a cliche. Drinking college reputation? Not exactly something I’m bragging about,” you say, distracting yourself with the food in front of you rather than the growing mischievous glint in Owen’s eyes. You know exactly what he’s going to say next.

“So would you like some whiskey? It’s an open bar,” he suggests with too much cheerfulness in his voice. Already dying from revealing your cringy past, you just about choke at your fiance’s suggestion.

“Nuh-uh,” you vigorously shake your head. Throughout your relationship with Owen, you’ve gone along with most of his shenanigans. It’s safe to say that the pair of you are truly partners in crime. However, this time is not the place nor the occasion to play with fire and whiskey. Before he can persuade you, he’s interrupted by announcements and speeches.

If you knew Katie, you knew that her wedding festivities would be wild - and she did not disappoint.

The champagne flowed, the dance floor shook, and abundant laughter filled the space between party songs. And you - you were vibing. And if your use of the term ‘vibing’ was not an indication of your current state, then let me be more direct: you were bubbly off the champagne.

At least that’s what Owen would describe if he had the chance to talk to you since the speeches. After the tear-jerking, heartfelt speeches, you and your girlfriends left the table as per the summons of the new bride. The boys provided each other company for the longest time as the girls happily entertained the bride and groom. Owen longed for your presence after his third serving of gin and tonic, but he was barely able to hold your hand before you were whisked away for more wedding festivities.

Likewise, you have the same problem. Right after you catch the bouquet, you wanted to find Owen and tell him how fitting it was that an engaged woman caught the bouquet, but your fiance was nowhere to be found. Your friends became a distraction as they pulled you to the open bar and shoved flute after flute of champagne into your hands - which worsens your current predicament even more.

“Y/N!”

“Baby!” You turn away from your circle of dancing wedding goers and finally spot Owen stumbling his way to you. You can’t even say that he looks worse for wear - if anything he looks better for wear (you’re not even making sense anymore). His loosened bow tie and rolled up sleeves makes you swoon more than the multitude of champagne flutes does. His previously perfect hair style is all tousled up now and when he runs his hand through his hair, you don’t even register your hand pulling him into your body until he collides with you.

“Woah! Hey there,” Owen offers his charming smile and it’s probably whiter than the bride’s own dress. You might be looking through rose tinted glasses right now, but that doesn’t take away with how absolutely gorgeous Owen is as he grips your hips steadily.

“Hey there, handsome. Haven’t seen you in a while,” you throw your arms around his neck and place a quick peck to his lips. He reaches down, not satisfied with the kiss, and pulls you in for a better kiss - one that shows how much he missed you even when you were in the same room.

“Mmmm, what have you been up to?” Your half-lidded eyes remind Owen of this morning and how beautiful you looked in the sunlight. He craves that again, but also loves how beautiful you look under this light too.

“The guys have been keeping me occupied this whole time. Your friends are absolutely wild. Explains a lot actually,” he smirks, tightening his grip on you and making the both of you sway despite the fast pace of the current dance song.

“What does that mean?” you scoff, your own smirk threatening to come out.

“You may be a little bit more tame now, but I have an idea of how wild you were in college. I wished I knew you then.”

“I don’t. Then I would have definitely embarrassed myself in front of you somehow.”

“And you don’t do that now?” Owen quirks an eyebrow and you chuckle because you know he’s right. As much as he is clumsy and dorky, so are you.

“So…” Owen trails off, you wait for him to continue, but from one little squint from his left eye and the way he bites his lip, you know exactly what he’s going to say, “would you like a glass of whiskey?”

“Fine! You’re lucky I’m already loved up on champagne and that you look so good right now.”

“I’m just kidding you know? As much as I would love to know your infamous dance moves, you don’t have to listen to me.”

“No, it’s okay baby. I haven’t had a good glass of whiskey in a while and besides, it’s an open bar.”

Owen shivers as your soft hands fall from his neck and run down his arm, grabbing his hands and leading him to the said open bar. His surprise at your steady walk turns into happiness as you turn around and throw him a funny face just for fun. When you arrive at the bar, you throw your best charming smile at the bartender and ask for two whiskeys. As soon as you get what you ordered, you push the glass into Owen’s hand before sipping at your own.

“If I’m subjecting myself to this, you will too because you’re my fiance.”

“Till death to us part baby,” you smile at him as he takes a healthy swig of his drink. Now that you’re both standing next to one another and sharing a drink, it’s easy for the rest of the world to fall away until it’s just you and Owen. You both easily fall into conversation, talking about everything and nothing.

“If I had to give a speech at Charlie’s wedding, I would probably just say I pray for his wife,” Owen says after finishing his drink. He signals the bartender for the same order.

“No, you wouldn’t,” you giggle, finishing up your drink and welcoming the next one, “you would talk about how much you admire him and then say you would pray for his wife.”

“You know me so well.”

“Duh, that’s why you asked me to marry you.” You both cheers and drink your glass. By the time the third whiskey is consumed, the party is still going and you and Owen were having a blast with each other.

You observe the dance floor during one of the lulls in your conversation, watching your friends still dancing the night away. Meanwhile, Owen catches Brody’s eye and raises his glass to him. Brody, understanding the situation, immediately goes to the DJ booth and puts in a very special request.

Your head whips towards Owen as soon as the opening notes of “Old Rock and Roll” plays overhead. Owen doesn’t have time to act innocent because you already have his hand in yours as you pull him away from the bar. You bring him right to the edge of the dance circle that clears as per the instructions of your college friends who know exactly what’s about to happen.

Now, after the disaster that was the first time you drank whiskey, you’ve perfected the iconic move despite inebriation. Even in heels, you elegantly slide into the middle of the dance floor with no shame and all the confidence. You happily dance by yourself in the middle of a packed crowd, but then you feel a presence behind you.

“Old time rock and roll!” Owen belts out, throwing his arms out wide as he slides in just like you did earlier. Everyone around you cheers and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. He dances with you, spinning you around, dipping you, all of the moves that he can think of. Owen, impressed by how committed you are to the song, happily matches your energy and starts moving even crazier with you following his lead. Soon, everyone starts dancing and singing along, the party never stopping for a second.

“Nice moves Whiskey Business!” Owen yells once the song starts to close. You throw your head back in laughter. Your head wasn’t swimming from the alcohol, but rather the euphoria Owen brings with every swing of his arm and goofy step he takes in lieu of you.

“Right back at you,” Owen takes your hands one more time and spins you around until you land right into him, hands landing on his chest. His broad hands cover yours, thumbing at the engagement ring he proposed with all those months ago. The warm tingling feeling from this morning is back in full force as Owen catches his breath under your palms.

Being with Owen is easy. In the years of friendship and then relationship, life with Owen became lighter - like he’d lifted a burden you never knew you carried. Then again, he always presented himself as the solid stone that you can rely on. Whenever there was a need for a good cry, he offered his shoulder. Whenever there was a need for a celebration, he offered his hands to lift you off the ground. Whenever there was a need for a partner, or, specifically, a dance partner, he was already standing right next to you, holding your hand.

You could say that the wedding or the prospect of your wedding has made you all sappy. But maybe it was just Owen - your partner in crime, your fiance, your forever whiskey business dance partner.

||||||

A/N: I wrote the word whiskey so many times that it started to look weird to me lol. I also know that it can also be spelled whisky btw. idk if that matters to y’all. Anyways, if you haven’t seen my previous post, I will be posting a new request every day this week. I’ve posted Behind the Love yesterday so check that out and get ready for more! - Titi xx

Taglist: @aunicornmademedoit @pixiethefirecat7 @badwolf00593 @kinda-really-lost @phantoms-julie @lolychu@n0wornever @reg-peters @celestialmolina @calamitykaty@thecharlietomygillespie@everything-is-alright @merceret @teti-menchon0604 @jemimah-b99 @notsosmexy

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner fanfic #owen joyner fic #owen joyner imagines #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen joyner x oc #jatp

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amorgansgal · 3 years ago

Text

We Are Made One with What We Touch and See

This was written for the @rdrbigbang and I had the great pleasure to work with @merryandrewsworld who has made some gorgeous artwork, and has been a really lovely person to talk to and bounce ideas off :D It was a wonderful experience and I loved writing this piece. You can read it on Ao3 as well.

Summary: Molly finds her life increasingly frustrating. She works most days in the Linden Bar and her love life with Dutch is disappointing at best and toxic at worse. She spends her days angry and alone, until Arthur Morgan and Micah Bell wander into Dutch's bar with a new friend of theirs who captures her attention.

Warnings: Implied sexual content. Alcohol.

Molly slammed the bottles into the small fridge behind the bar. She was clenching her jaw tightly and knew her curly red hair was already escaping the bun she had put it into this morning. She couldn’t believe Dutch had asked her again to open up, even though she had closed the bar the night before. Karen had called in sick, but Molly had a sneaking suspicion that the woman was actually out at one of her precious film auditions.

She straightened up and stretched her back. She wasn’t even sure how she could put on a smile and joke around with the customers, when she felt so sour, tired and pissed off. The other girls who worked at the Linden Bar seemed to think that her dating Dutch meant she was favoured and got to slack off while he was around. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Living and working with him meant he was all too aware of her schedule; she couldn’t pretend to be busy or have plans when he demanded she cover a shift.

She had previously complained to Karen about it, but there hadn’t exactly been any sympathy. ‘Well… they do say don’t shit where you eat.’

The Linden bar was quiet. Unsurprising, it was still early afternoon and the regulars wouldn’t make an appearance until later. She thought about wiping down the leather sofas and chairs. She was meant to do that. But why even bother? Half the time Sean spilt shit on them anyway.

She sighed irritably, cleaning after a bunch of men was hardly what she had envisioned her life would be like. But then she didn’t really have any other plans. She rested on the bar and tried to think about what other jobs she could do. She had never really been one for sitting in an office, but then she couldn’t really say she was a people person or wanted to work behind a bar again if she could help it.

She had won a few writing competitions while at college and her teacher had always said she had a natural gift with words, but apart from ‘No, I’m not serving you’ and ‘You can fuck right off’ she didn’t get much chance to use them! Perhaps she should write again. It didn’t necessarily have to be anything great or Shakespearian, but it could be a good way to express how she felt and what she was thinking.

Then again… maybe not. Last time Dutch had found one of her poems he had been insulted by it. It wasn’t even fucking about him, but of course he had to make it about him. After he had calmed down, she had managed to explain it was about an ex and she had written it while dating the ex. But that seemed to piss him off more and he demanded to know why she wasn’t writing about him! As though everything she did had to involve him to some extent.

The door to the bar swung open and Molly scowled. ‘We’re not open, so you can-!’

But when Arthur stepped into the bar and gave her a quick smile, she rolled her eyes and gestured to the bar seats. ‘Fine. But I’m not serving whiskey at this time.’

‘Wouldn’ expect you to,’ he replied. The dark leather jacket he always wore crinkled as he sat down. ‘’specially with this troublesome lot.’ He gave a quick nod towards the doorway again and Molly audibly sighed as Micah walked in, a mocking smile on his lips. Just behind Micah she could see another person strolling into the room and Molly sucked in her cheeks, she sincerely hoped the rest of the gang was not just going to turn up and make her life harder!

‘Now, darlin’, that ain’t a way to treat a paying customer.’ Micah smirked.

‘Last time you were here Dutch covered your tab, if I remember correctly,’ Molly shot back.

Micah raised his hands defensively. ‘I paid the man back. I know when to pay my dues.’ He sat down next to Arthur and gave the man’s knee a squeeze. Arthur shifted his leg, but the smile on his lips gave him away.

Molly turned her attention to the other person who was with them and found herself somewhat lost for words as she took in the tall, blonde woman who had sat down silently. The woman’s sharp brown eyes were fixed on Molly. Her forehead was pinched in a fierce scowl highlighting a small red scratch above one of her eyebrows.

Molly looked away quickly, somewhat embarrassed that she had been appraising the woman so closely and that the thought of pressing her hand against the woman’s cheek and wiping away her frown had been so appealing.

‘Oh yeah, Molly this is Sadie. Sadie Adler,’ Arthur said, tearing away his gaze from Micah. ‘Sadie, this is Molly.’

‘You don’ piss her off too much sometimes she’ll even serve your drinks with a smile,’ Micah said.

‘You’re lucky I serve you drinks at all, Micah.’ Molly muttered, then turned back to Sadie. ‘Nice to meet you. What you doing running around with these two then?’

‘I’m a bounty hunter,’ Sadie replied coolly, her voice was husky and rough. Molly wondered if it was due to a smoker’s habit or just the way the woman spoke naturally.

‘What can I get you then?’

‘Whiskey?’ Sadie smirked.

Molly reached down to the fridge and pulled out two beers for Micah and Arthur. She wiped her hands on a towel and grinned at Sadie. ‘For you, I’ll make an exception!’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Sadie nodded and accepted the glass of whiskey that Molly had poured for her. Molly tried to look anywhere else as Sadie swallowed back the hard liquor and placed the glass back down on the bar. She barely heard Micah’s griping.

‘Bounty hunting, that must be exciting?’ Molly said as she refilled Sadie’s glass. This time Sadie seemed content to sip it.

‘Mm-hm, can be. Can be dangerous. Can be boring, especially if I’m chasing someone down who’s just skipped on a bill or something. Now bartending, that must be exciting!’ Her eyebrow quirked upwards and Molly snorted.

‘Yeah, I love nothing more than cleaning up after these boys,’ Molly jabbed a thumb towards Arthur and Micah.

Sadie let out a short huff of laughter. ‘Well then, I don’t think our jobs are that different!’

‘Sure, pouring this lot drinks is exactly the same!’

Sadie pulled out some money from a wallet and passed it over to Molly. ‘Buy one for yourself, think I’m going to like talking to you.’

‘Tha’ makes a change,’ Arthur muttered sarcastically, and was treated to an elbow to the ribs from Sadie.

Micah’s eyes lit up as Molly put the money in the till. ‘You know what Dutch says-’

‘What? And you’re going to run off and tell him?’ Molly scowled.

Micah raised his hands. ‘I’m just sayin’, you ain’t meant to-’

‘Well, it’s none of your business whether I do or don’t!’ she shot back. She was so goddamn sick of Dutch controlling everything she did, even when he wasn’t around one of his lackeys was watching her every move.

‘Micah, why don’t you and I head out for a smoke, and leave the ladies to talk?’ Arthur suggested. For a moment it looked like Micah might refuse, but he then got up and sloped off the bar stool.

‘Fine, Morgan.’

Arthur smiled at Molly and gave her a quick wink, before he and Micah disappeared through the back door. Molly poured Sadie another drink, then grabbed a glass of her own and served herself. Sadie raised her glass and Molly carefully tapped it with her own. She threw back the liquor feeling the sharp, hot burn against her throat and smiling as the warmth rushed through her.

‘Guess they’ll be a while smoking.’ Sadie smirked.

‘Surprising how long a cigarette can take.’ Molly found herself grinning at the woman.

Sadie shifted in her seat and a few loose strands of her hair rested on her cheek. That same temptation to brush away the blonde hair almost overwhelmed Molly and she found herself leaning heavily on the bar, as though she would reach over to do so.

She quickly rested her cheek on her hand instead, though realised that may not have been the best idea as Sadie’s eyes drifted down to her chest. Molly thought about getting back up, but found she quite liked how the woman’s dark gaze ran over her body. It had been a long time since anyone had really looked at Molly with anything akin to desire.

‘So, how long you known Arthur?’ Molly asked.

‘Few weeks, he helped me out of a tight spot.’

‘Oh?’

‘Sometimes bounties don’t want to come quietly.’ Sadie grinned and finished off the whiskey in her glass. ‘How long have you known Arthur?’

‘Long enough, he’s been a friend of Dutch’s for… well, think forever. They knew each before I started… started dating Dutch.’

‘Ooh, dating the owner, huh?’

‘Don’t.’ Molly refilled her glass. She wasn’t quite sure if Sadie would be paying for all this whiskey, but considering the woman had made her feel better she was quite happy to empty all the shelves here.

‘So it ain’t going well?’

‘It’s going fine, it’s just…’ Molly fiddled with the cap on the bottle and looked down at the bar, wiping away a few drops of condensation from the dark wood. She looked back up to find Sadie watching her intently. She grabbed the bottle and put it back behind the bar.

‘Well?’ Sadie asked.

‘I… I don’t think I should be talking about that kind of thing right now… I mean, you don’t want to hear about that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you probably got better things to do than listen to me complain.’

Sadie’s smirk resumed its place and she got up from the barstool. ‘True, but I think you could also do better things.’

‘Like what?’

‘Come for a ride with me, it’ll clear your head.’

Molly sighed and leaned back. ‘Sure, the best thing I can do is piss off Dutch and leave the bar unattended. Besides, who’s going to let those fools back in?’

Sadie shrugged. ‘They’ll figure it out.’ She leaned over the bar and offered a hand. ‘Come on. Who’s going to visit a bar in the early afternoon?’

‘You’d be surprised,’ Molly muttered.

‘Come on, twenty minutes, they won’t even realise you’re gone.’

‘Why do you want me to go so badly?’

‘Because you look goddamn miserable and because this bar is kind of shitty, I’ll take you to a better one.’

‘I thought you said we would be gone for just twenty minutes.’

‘Why you planning on spending longer with me?’ Sadie grinned.

‘No… I… well… a drink takes longer than twenty minutes.’

‘Does it?’

‘A good one at any rate,’ Molly smiled and looked down at her boots. She glanced back up at Sadie, who reached her hand over to Molly once more. To Molly’s own surprise she found herself placing her hand into Sadie’s and letting herself be guided out of the bar. The blonde-haired woman smiled and wrapped an arm around Molly’s waist. Molly averted her eyes and felt her cheeks warm with a heady blush. ‘Least let me lock up.’

‘Sure, I’ll wait for you outside.’

Even as Molly locked the backdoor, the cash register and back office she found herself wondering what the hell she was doing. How could she be so damn stupid? This woman had barely said two words to her and had already convinced her to leave the bar and run off to God knows where! Hell, she had locked Arthur and Micah out, they would have to scale the fences if they wanted to escape. Even when Arthur would let things slide, Micah seemed to get some malicious enjoyment for tattling on her. But if there had ever been a time for saying ‘Fuck it!’ it was now.

***

The sense of freedom she got with her arms wrapped tightly around Sadie’s waist, her chest pressed against the leather jacket and feeling the sharp, icy cold wind rushing through Molly’s hair was something she hadn’t even realised she wanted until she was on Sadie’s bike.

By the time they finished at a bar on the other side of town, it was late in the evening, and Molly was in no doubt that she probably had a hundred calls and texts from Dutch. But she’d done the wild thing and switched off her phone.

They’d drunk far too much and then Sadie insisted she was starving and took them to a smoky little food truck that apparently sold the best BBQ food. Sadie brought them both ribs and fries covered in cheese, jalapeños and crispy onions.

For a very brief moment Molly looked at the dark crimson nail polish on her fingers and remembered how Dutch hated it when her hands got wrinkled from washing up the glasses. He was always insistent she kept her hands soft and clean. Sadie’s were rough, her nails short and clear of any varnish. When the woman pulled her from the bar, she had grabbed Molly’s hand and held onto it tightly with long, strong fingers.

‘Go on, we have napkins,’ Sadie urged her.

‘Shouldn’t really…’

‘You shouldn’t have drunk all that whiskey with me, yet here we are!’ Sadie smirked and then tore a strip of meat off the barbequed rib.

***

They drove up to the hill that overlooked the town. The only noise they could really hear was the thrumming, distant roar that came from the highway and the quiet chirps of crickets. The moon rose overhead, a thin slither of silver against the dark night sky. Molly breathed out quietly, it was an excited, shaky breath. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. When was the last time she felt free, that she felt she could move her body without it being judged or resented?

Sadie’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her back slightly from the edge of the cliff. Molly turned her head. She wasn’t sure when and how and why it happened, but suddenly Sadie’s mouth was on her own, her breath heavy and desperate, the hand on Molly’s waist pulled her closer to Sadie and the other hand was clenched amongst Molly’s curls. She found herself braver and bolder, nipping at Sadie’s bottom lip until Molly’s tongue slipped into Sadie’s mouth. A fierce taste of mint, it was almost harsher than any gum or mints that Molly had ever tasted, marred with the slight tangy savouriness of the BBQ. Molly moaned into the kiss, wanting more, but a little afraid to ask for it. There wouldn’t be any going back after that. No going back to her old life, no return to Dutch or the Linden Bar.

***

Sadie’s fingers softly stroked along Molly’s back, as though mapping her out. Molly turned her head and smiled as she felt Sadie’s fingers trace the letters of her tattoo.

‘Didn’t see this earlier,’ Sadie muttered.

‘Why would you see my naked back earlier?’

‘You showed me your other one.’

‘That was on my shoulder, Sadie. Course you can see that one.’

‘We are made one with what we touch and see,’ Sadie read the words aloud. ‘Pretty, where’s it from?’

‘It’s a poem by Oscar Wilde.’

Sadie’s hand slid around Molly’s waist and found her right arm again, she ran her fingers over the tattoo that graced Molly’s wrist, a small yellow flower. ‘Think I like this one the best though.’

Molly smiled. ‘It’s a cowslip. I got it when Dutch called me a useless cow.’

‘That you certainly ain’t.’ Sadie dipped her head down and pressed a kiss against Molly’s lips. Sadie’s hands ran down her waist once more and then further down Molly’s thigh. She moaned against Sadie’s lips.

‘We can’t do it again,’ Molly murmured.

‘Why not? You got anywhere else to be?’

‘Hmm.’

Sadie took advantage of her hesitation and kissed her again, before wriggling down to her waist. ‘I think we got plenty of time.’

#molly o'shea x sadie adler #oshadie #molly o'shea #sadie adler #arthur morgan x micah bell #arthur morgan #micah bell #dutch van der linde #rdrreversebang2021 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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becomewings · 4 years ago

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The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 1 / 4

» pt. 2

Introduction

BTS Universe Story, a mobile game published by Netmarble, was released on September 24, 2020. While the majority of the app is essentially a sandbox and engine for users to create their own interactive stories, it also includes official and canon BU content. The first eight segments were introduced between the release date and December 2020, gathered under the title The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>.

“I’m Fine” is half of the I’m Fine/Save Me ambigram introduced in the Love Yourself era. Notably, all of the BU content available in the game so far falls between events of the webtoon Save Me (also called HYYH0 in its logo) and The Notes 1—chronologically, that is, while bearing in mind that time resets to the morning of 11 April Year 22 whenever SeokJin fails to avert a tragedy among his six friends. I want to assure anyone who is unable to play the game that you are not missing any new, major plot beats from the overall BU narrative. Instead, the stories provide more insight into the motivations and consequences of SeokJin’s decisions in the earlier time loops, as well as more depth to individual characters and their circumstances.

The goal of this guide is to summarize each of the eight stories and highlight noteworthy details, especially if they are not yet present in other BU media. Within each story (which I often refer to as an arc, due to their character-focused nature), episodes must be played successively, but the stories themselves can be played in any order. I will present them over a series of posts in the order they are listed under the <I’M FINE> heading. The Prologue and NamJoon’s arc are free to play; the rest are paid content. Please note that due to the app’s Terms & Conditions, I will not include in-game footage here. The images in this guide are sourced from the official trailers/videos and the live action MVs as appropriate.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

Game Mechanic

Before diving into the summaries, I would like to address the primary mechanic of the game: the user’s control of character choices at designated moments in the stories. It’s a primary marketing point that the player can influence the progression of the narrative, with a frequent in-app tip also declaring, “stories’ endings can vary depending on your choices.” The latter is not strictly true—and it cannot be true due to the structure of the game. Choices are presented within most (not all) episodes, but each episode is an isolated unit: episode 2 provides the same content regardless of what you choose in episode 1. Since the consequences of your decisions are not cumulative, each episode reaches the same ending, and each decision inevitably rejoins the “main” story path (effectively reducing the script size).

So what is the point of this mechanic? While the system is not nearly as complex as what major platform titles are capable of nowadays (I suspect due in large part to the story creation portion of the game), it does foster a sense of interaction with the narrative that isn’t present in static visual media like comics or film. The episodes with choices also have incentive for replay to discover the impact of changing a character’s dialogue or action. Sometimes the differences between the outcomes are inconsequential, but other times you unearth new details, interactions, or memories that are missing in the other path.

I say this partially in reaction to all of the comments and tweets I read for the game trailers and even Smeraldo Book twitter’s choose-your-own-adventure style teasers with The Notes 2 excerpts released last summer. Many users expressed excitement, through words or memes, about finally being able to give the boys the happy ending they deserved. I don’t fault anyone for wanting that happy ending—I wish for it, too. But no matter what the rather overzealous marketing has claimed, I don’t believe that the canon ending of BU is ever meant to be in the audience’s control. But I do feel that this mechanism fits the BU narrative. It echoes the “countless loops” SeokJin has experienced in an effort to save his friends, the choices he must make at every crossroad, and the butterfly effect those actions have on all of their lives. I think it is reasonable to interpret the simple branching paths in the game as alternatives SeokJin has explored across multiple loops in his struggle to find the “right” way forward. I’d love to hear if you have theories of your own!

Prologue

The prologue is a brief episode introducing SeokJin’s repeated struggle and failure to save his friends. He wakes up yet again in his bed on 11 April Year 22, the beginning of the time loop. After reflecting on the tragedies that keep befalling the others, SeokJin realizes that he has only tried to fix the problems he can see. He wonders: “Have I tried to understand the root of my friends’ misfortunes? How much do I really know about my friends? Maybe I was never brave enough to confront their real scars and the worlds they’ve been living in. But I need to do it. Because it may be the key to saving them all.”

How to Offer a Hand

In this story, SeokJin attempts to prevent NamJoon’s arrest after he gets in a fight with a rude customer at Naeri Gas Station, his place of work. The first episode opens on the night of 11 April Year 22 with NamJoon curling his fists, glaring as crumpled bills lie untouched on the pavement. (The money looks similar to the shot from the I Need U MV.) SeokJin reaches for his shoulder, but NamJoon shrugs him off and strides away to punch the customer who deliberately dropped the bills for him to pick up. The gas station owner runs over at the customer’s furious shouts and orders NamJoon to apologize. He refuses, and police officers soon arrive and charge him with assault. No one listens to SeokJin’s protests that the customer started it first. The man sneers as NamJoon enters the police car. “Do you even have money for a settlement? Hey, you’re done for.” NamJoon is sentenced to prison again, and SeokJin hears glass shattering before the loop resets.

Rising from his bed on the morning of 11 April, SeokJin reflects on his failed efforts so far. He has hit the customer’s car, called for NamJoon in the middle of the incident, and stopped the fight himself, the latter of which caused his friends to avoid him later. The fight has even escalated; the details are unspecified, but the audience is provided an ominous shot of SeokJin speaking to a police officer alone at the scene. NamJoon is not the kind of person who would normally respond to that kind of provocation with his fists. SeokJin realizes that he cannot merely stop the fight but must discover and fix the true cause of it.

With this in mind, SeokJin heads to Naeri Gas Station during the day and tries to engage NamJoon. This is their first time meeting since they both returned to Songju, although SeokJin has experienced it in many loops already. “It’s been a while,” he greets (as he does at the end of the Blood Sweat & Tears Japanese version MV). Before SeokJin can dig deeper in their conversation, NamJoon is called away by his boss. SeokJin enters the small employee break room which serves as NamJoon’s living space when he’s not at the container, hoping to find some clues about his friend’s life. SeokJin locates something bundled in newspapers. If the player chooses to open it, he sees a strange shard of glass inside that may belong to a car or motorcycle headlight. He continues on, finding the book Cosmos by Carl Sagan and a notebook. SeokJin hesitates over the invasion of privacy but decides to read it since he needs all the information that he can gather. The journal entries detail NamJoon’s daily life since returning to Songju: his work at the gas station isn’t too bad despite the occasional rude customer; he purchased a book and hopes to get more in the future; he picked up a second job at a wedding hall to help catch up on bills; his brother NamHyeon got in trouble again, leading to more expenses; and his dad’s health has worsened, with hospital bills after an emergency surgery rising to levels that the family cannot afford. SeokJin knew that NamJoon was the de facto head of household due to his father’s illness but was unaware that it was to this degree. He feels sorry for NamJoon yet is also impressed by his maturity, for NamJoon never writes how difficult his situation is.

NamJoon arrives and asks what SeokJin is doing in the room. If the player chooses to answer “reading” instead of “just sitting there,” SeokJin privately observes that the conversation flows more easily when they talk about books. NamJoon says he must leave and declines when SeokJin offers to wait for him there. SeokJin knocks over a pile of books along with money and receipts as he stands. He thinks it is unusual that NamJoon picks up the books before the money. The books seem to be more than a hobby to NamJoon, holding special meaning. Walking to his car, SeokJin wonders if it is pride or determination not to falter that keeps NamJoon from journaling his grievances. He realizes that money is a constant source of frustration and misery to NamJoon, and that’s why he can’t stomach being insulted over the customer’s dropped money. SeokJin’s new plan is to prevent NamJoon from picking up the money. He also calls Palgok County Hospital and offers to pay the patient bill for NamJoon’s father. Anticipating that NamJoon will be angry if he finds out, SeokJin says the payer is Songho Foundation.

That night, SeokJin returns to the gas station with the excuse that he forgot to fill up earlier. The luxury car arrives with a honk, and NamJoon hurries over to assist. He shakes with anger when the customer drops the money on the ground. “Why aren’t you picking it up? You don’t want it? What’s with that look? Pretty arrogant for a part-timer, aren’t you?” goads the customer. SeokJin intervenes. Whether the player chooses to have him advise NamJoon not to pick it up or to order the customer to pick it up himself, the end result is the same. SeokJin asks the customer, “Why are you harassing a pitiful part-timer?” The customer drives away, and something about NamJoon seems off. His face is expressionless, not mad or humiliated. “SeokJin, you…” He stops. “Never mind. Thank you for your help.” The words sound difficult for him to speak.

SeokJin believes that he has saved NamJoon, although this ending feels sloppy. He continues on in the loop to rescue JungKook and later YoonGi, but uneasiness plagues him. Though he meant to help NamJoon with his actions, SeokJin wonders if he hurt him instead. On 5 May Year 22, he returns to the gas station and follows NamJoon when he leaves work early. NamJoon enters a bookstore, and SeokJin sneaks in after him to watch from afar. He overhears employees talking about NamJoon, worrying that he might dirty the pages of the book he’s perusing. NamJoon is too absorbed in the book to notice one of them calling for his attention. SeokJin recalls a memory from their school days when he found NamJoon reading alone in their classroom hideout: he asked why NamJoon read so diligently, and his friend explained that he found it comforting to empty his thoughts of everything else while focused on the book. In the present, SeokJin wonders how he forgot how much books mean to NamJoon. He sacrifices some of his food and transportation budget to afford them, but they enable him “to endure the weight of the world he’s forced to bear on his shoulders.” After realizing this, SeokJin wants to apologize for carelessly sympathizing with the reality that NamJoon has weathered alone.

The next episode is from NamJoon’s perspective, revealing his excitement over being able to purchase a book for the first time in two months. He wants to buy two but can only afford one. The employee at the register sighs and asks why he leafed through a book he wasn’t going to buy. NamJoon apologizes, and she mutters, “So dirty.” He notices his reflection, clothes worn and smelling of gasoline, and realizes she’s talking about him, not the book. He tries to shake off these depressing thoughts, but he is still not accustomed to this treatment despite experiencing it regularly at work. As NamJoon begins to exit the store, the security alarm goes off. The employees demand to check his bag despite his insistence that he didn’t steal anything. Their certainty of his theft angers him. NamJoon allows them to look through his bag, and they are suspicious of the like-new book in it which he brought from home. One begins to call the police until SeokJin appears, vouching for NamJoon by saying he saw everything. The employees accept that the alarm malfunctioned and excuse their suspicions as a mistake.

Outside, SeokJin asks NamJoon if he is all right. NamJoon is thankful but wonders how SeokJin materialized right when he needed him. “How’d you find me here?” he asks aloud. SeokJin explains that he happened to notice him while walking through the neighborhood. NamJoon wonders if it’s because they said goodbye on a weird note last time. He thanks him and turns to leave. SeokJin calls after him. “I’m sorry. I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you that day at the gas station. It was a mistake to have called you pitiful. If my rash actions hurt you, I’m really sorry.” NamJoon accepts his apology, believing it to be sincere, and says that things would have turned out a lot worse if SeokJin had not intervened. Thunder rolls overhead, and NamJoon uses the impending rain as his excuse to depart. He declines SeokJin’s offer of a ride and runs home, feeling his friend’s eyes on him.

Before he can settle down to read at home, NamJoon receives a call from his cheerful mother. She thanks him for paying off the entire hospital bill. NamJoon is perplexed and asks what’s on the receipt, since he didn’t pay it. His mother wants to leave it be, but he insists that they investigate so they don’t get in trouble or sued. She reads that the Songho Foundation is credited as the payer. NamJoon calls the hospital, introducing himself as the guardian for Kim YoungMin, but they can’t transfer him to the administrative department at this time. Disappointed, he looks up the foundation’s website, unable to recall why it sounds familiar. He wonders why a scholarship foundation in the city would get involved with him. Spotting photos of a recent launch ceremony on the site, he recognizes a few people: Songju High School’s principal, the familiar-looking face of the foundation’s chairman, and SeokJin. First, NamJoon forces a laugh, and then it’s difficult for him to breathe. He thinks that SeokJin really had pitied him at that moment. The only thing keeping NamJoon going is the idea of getting through life on his own strength. Why does he have to live like this?

The last episode opens on 5 May back in SeokJin’s perspective. He is confident now that he has saved NamJoon, although it occurs to him that a better alternative may have been to simply pick up the money himself instead of stepping forward. (This decision is enacted in a later loop and depicted in the Euphoria MV.) While reflecting on what comes next to save his other friends, he receives a text from NamJoon. “What’s your account number? I’ll pay you back for the hospital bills. I don’t need your help. I’ll handle my concerns on my own.” Heart sinking, SeokJin wonders how he found out. With a sense of foreboding, he tries calling NamJoon, but no one answers. SeokJin texts him back, pretending that he doesn’t understand, and tells NamJoon to call him. SeokJin’s second attempt connects while he’s gathering his car keys to visit the container. “That’s enough. Just send the account number over text,” NamJoon instructs. SeokJin coaxes him to talk for a moment, and NamJoon asks flatly, “Are you going to apologize again?” SeokJin attempts to salvage the situation, but his friend turns cold when he insists that NamJoon is misunderstanding and that he just wanted to help. “So, why? Why are you helping me?! Yeah, you’re always a good person. You’ve done nothing wrong and I’m the one misunderstanding.” SeokJin apologizes again. NamJoon refuses his request to meet in person. “No, I thought maybe there was a reason for everything you did… But I guess I misconstrued it. I’ll pay you back, so I’d prefer if you stopped contacting me.” Long after the call ends, SeokJin stands holding his phone, feeling that the glass is going to break at any moment. He wants to believe that it’s not over, but hope is slipping through his fingertips.

The episode finishes in NamJoon’s perspective. On 8 May and 9 May, he accepts part-time delivery work and reflects on his three jobs. Whenever he thinks he’s at his breaking point, he focuses on his new goal of returning SeokJin’s money. On 10 May, NamJoon wakes up to his buzzing phone and is called in to work. On a scooter, he passes by a bus stop and notices graffiti. (This is the same bus stop, with matching graffiti, that appears in the Highlight Reel.) Mesmerized, he wonders if it’s TaeHyung’s. As soon as NamJoon looks up, the scooter’s brake fails, and he crashes. The shattered glass on the cold pavement reminds him of the headlight shard and the kid who looked like TaeHyung. (So the piece of glass SeokJin saw in April was really a memento NamJoon retrieved from the scene of the crash in the mountain town, where the delivery boy whom he privately called TaeHyung died. This event is described in NamJoon’s 17 December Year 21 entry in The Notes 1.) NamJoon’s vision grows blurry, and the distant sound of an ambulance doesn’t come any closer.

The arc concludes there, but it obviously marks another reset for SeokJin. It is interesting to note that in this failed loop, NamJoon suffers the same fate that he narrowly avoided in the snowy mountain town before returning to Songju.

Please stay tuned for the next Highlights post featuring JungKook and YoonGi!

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #armysource #dailybangtan #bts universe #hyyh #bangtan universe #bts universe story #bts universe story highlights #seokjin #namjoon #namjin #bts theories

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writesowhatnext · 4 years ago

Text

would’ve preferred a pillow fight // fred weasley

Summary: Ginny knows about the reader’s crush on her brother and she’ll be dammed if she doesn’t stir the pot a little

Request: Request where you're in Gryffindor and having a slumber party with some of the girls. You play truth or dare and are dared to say something embarrassing to Fred who's in the common room with his friends. When you get down there, you struggle to say it and Fred being the ass he is, is just smiling because you're just there flustered, and in your jammies haha

A/N: I loved this request so so much because I treasure Fred but also girls yes please and also bestfriend!Ginny is my favourite she’s one of my fave characters literally the films did her so dirty

Reader: female

Warnings: female reader, making out, swearing

Introducing Ginny Weasley to Truth or Dare might’ve been your greatest mistake to date. In your defence, you thought a muggle game might be fun for Friday night at the girls’ dorms. You, Ginny, Luna (who you’d managed to sneak in with a nifty spell Ginny had learnt from Fred and George), Lavender and Parvati had been meeting up for weeks now, all dressed in your lamest pyjamas as you goaded and teased each other, but you were beginning to get bored after your third round of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. And so, perhaps foolishly, you decided a change of pace would be nice and a muggle game you remembered from your time before Hogwarts would be fun. That, you quickly realised, was an oversight on your part, especially given Ginny knew everything about you, including your massive crush on her older brother Fred, a fact you hadn’t yet lived down.

“Okay,” Ginny hummed, spinning the empty bottle of firewhiskey between her fingers, watching it turn before it slowed to a standstill, pointed directly at Lavender.

“Christ,” she huffed, sighing shortly before shrugging. “Dare, I suppose.”

You faced Ginny, chewing your bottom lip as you watched a mischievous grin stretch her lips. Her eyes met yours and you saw, for a moment, the familiar glint of trouble that you so enjoyed in Fred’s.

“I dare you…” Ginny rubbed her chin, a caricature of contemplation. “To snog Parvati.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back to pick up your half-full cup of firewhiskey in your hand.

“W-What?” Lavender asked, her skin tinting pink as Parvati’s mouth dropped open, her dark eyes glancing from person to person.

“That’s not fair,” Parvati insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, not daring to chance a look at Lavender. “It’s not my dare!”

Ginny raised her hands in a faultless gesture, her shoulder raised as she kissed her teeth.

“She asked for dare…”

You snickered at her innocent expression, your smile widening when she looked at you, her intentions obvious.

“A dare’s a dare,” you shrugged as Lavender, turned to you, all but pleading.

“A dare’s a dare,” Parvati repeated, mocking you with all of the very little venom she could muster. You laughed, throwing your head back before you glanced at a very confused Luna, her eyebrows drawn together and her pale blue eyes wide.

“Fine,” Parvati muttered, her long, thin hands grabbing Lavender’s face, kissing her square on the lips.

You and Ginny burst into a round of applause, clapping as they awkward kiss turned a little more heated. Your cheers and whistles died off very soon, but their snogging did not and suddenly, you were submerged in silence as the two girls made out with each other, not showing any signs of stopping. You sipped your drink, looking at Ginny’s exasperated expression with raised eyebrows from over the top of your goblet. She looked at you and rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mock annoyance.

“They don’t seem to be as reluctant as they were,” Luna mused, leaning back as she pulled at her feet, her legs spread wide either side of her. You scoffed, biting your lip to contain your laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Ginny said loudly, kicking at Lavender with her foot. “I’d say the dare is more than fulfilled.”

Lavender flushed at her words and even Parvati, ever the firecracker, had the good sense to look bashful as she pulled away, tucking her sleek hair behind her ear.

“Right,” Lavender said, earning a chuckle from you and Ginny at her swollen lips and fazed expression. Parvati glared and so you both settled down, pursing your lips in a rare form of submission for the two of you. You looked around as Lavender spun the bottle, catching Luna’s eye and winking as she smiled at you. Her face lit up and you couldn’t help the rush of affection that flooded through you.

“Brilliant,” Ginny cackled, her voice full to the brim with an enthusiasm that made your stomach drop. Turning back to the bottle, your face soured to see it pointing straight at you. As you looked at Ginny, her freckled cheeks lifted high thanks to her massive grin, you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered, only making her beam.

“What was that?” she asked, leaning forward against her crossed legs, tilting her ear towards you. “Truth, did you say?”

You kicked her, earning a giggle from Lavender.

“I think she said fuck, actually,” Luna replied, nodding in confirmation. Even you had to laugh at her tone, twisting your mouth to the side as Ginny leant towards you, her face alight with excitement. You really did hate her, sometimes.

“What’ll it be then, Y/N?” Parvati asked, tucking her feet underneath her as she smiled. “Truth?”

“Or dare?” Ginny said with her eyebrows raised and the evil hazel of her eyes ridiculously electric.

You leant back, knowing that you’d have to accept your fate either way. Prolonging your decision, you rubbed your hands over your face and groaned.

“Come on,” Ginny huffed, pushing at your knee with her foot as she grew impatient.

“Fine!” you said, sitting up and throwing your hands up. “Dare.”

Ginny smirked, something you knew would never mean good things.

“Anyone else want to take this one?” she asked, knowing full well their answer as she looked to each of them. Lavender shook her head, a picture of innocence as Parvati smiled.

“I think I’ll leave this one to you,” she said, turning to Luna.

“I’m sure Ginny has a really interesting dare planned,” Luna replied, smiling at you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and pushing at Luna with your hand, knowing she knew full well just how interesting the dare would be.

“Go on,” you sighed, resting your hands on your knees, gently picking at the fabric of your pyjama bottoms. “What is it?”

“I dare you to tell my brother that he’s cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at her before a wonderful idea popped into your head and your face relaxed, only serving to make her suspicious.

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

You wondered for a moment where Ron would be- probably in the common room with Harry if you knew him at all. As you made to walk to the door, Ginny lifted a finger.

“Hold on,” she said, her innocent smile anything but. “You have to tell Fred.”

You could practically feel your face drop at her words and even at his name, the butterflies you felt whenever he was around fluttered around your stomach. “And you can’t tell him why you told him.”

“You know, Ginerva, you’re a right cow sometimes,” you said, hitting your forehead against the door, listening as the girls behind you stood up, ready to follow you.

“I know,” she replied happily, so much so you wanted to pinch her. With a dramatic sigh, you pulled open the door and began your descent into the common room, praying to Merlin that Fred wouldn’t be in there. It was just your luck, you thought, as you peeked around the corner, spotting Fred sitting around the fire with George and his friends as well as Harry and Ron. Your stomach sank at the sight.

“Do I really-“

“Yes!” three voices insisted far too quickly. You scowled.

“I think that’s part of the game, Y/N,” Luna said gently, not at all encouraging as you stepped into the common room, forcing yourself to be brave.

It wasn’t until you got closer to the group that you fully clocked why Ron and a couple of the other boys were giving you such strange looks. You stalled a few feet away, suddenly aware of your messy hair and oversized “Resting Witch Face” t-shirt.

“You alright there, Y/N?” George asked, turning around in his chair. His tone was mocking but you could see the concern in his eyes, not wanting to tease you too much if you were having a meltdown, a mistake he’d made many a time before between you and his sister. Your insides flipped as you looked at the back of Fred’s head, feeling slightly sick as he turned around, facing you with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t you look lovely,” he snorted, dark eyes full of mirth. You didn’t even have the stomach to roll your eyes as you approached, avoiding looking too long at any of the boys’ faces.

“Fred, can I talk to you?” you asked, hoping you could do the dare away from prying eyes and listening ears. You turned to look by the stairs, glowering at the heads stacked on top of each other, peeking out from around the corner. Your eyes lingered on Ginny, making a face at her smug expression. Fred followed your eye-line, frowning. He hid the smile that tugged at his lips, suddenly clued in as to why you were acting so strangely. The flash of red hair disappearing behind the stairway to the girls’ dorms had been clear enough. He did love a dare.

“Of course,” he said, leaning back with one elbow resting on the arm of the chair and an expectant look on his face. You paused, flicking at the hairband on your wrist when it became obvious that he had no intention to take your hint. It was just like him, you thought, to make your life harder without even knowing it.

“Right,” you said, looking briefly at his amused eyes before redirecting your gaze, the stares of the seven-or-so lads around you feeling very heavy on your skin. “So, I just wanted to say… Well. What I wanted to say is…”

You frowned, swallowing and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes?” Fred said, leaning forward expectantly with a smile. You questioned for a moment whether he’d been in on the whole thing. “I’m getting the feeling she wants to say something, aren’t you, George?”

You let yourself steal a glance at George as he spoke, nodding and smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. “I do get that impression, Fred.”

“What is it you wanted to say, love?”

You frowned at the sound of the term of endearment in Fred’s voice, your mouth going dry.

“I wanted to tell you… that, um, that I think you’re quite, uh, cute.”

You locked your jaw after the words tumbled out, feeling your face heat up instantly as you looked dead ahead, not daring to take a glance at Fred. You could just imagine his gob-shite expression: he’d be chuffed beyond belief, his eyes bright and a lopsided-grin on his lips. A handsome one, too.

“Cute, eh?” he responded, his surprisingly quiet tone drawing your attention. As you looked down, you found that you were almost right about his expression. The only difference really was that in real life, his eyes held much less mischief and were a much sweeter brown.

“Yes,” you said shortly, frowning, your voice barely audible over George and Ron’s sniggering. You swallowed, finally coming to the conclusion that you’d never hated Ginny more than at that moment.

“Any particular reason why you wanted to tell me that now?” Fred asked, his eyebrows raised and a smug smile dancing on his lips.

“Nope,” you shook your head, pressing your lips together and desperately trying to avoid his eyes. He hummed.

“No reason at all?”

You shook your head again, swallowing even though your mouth felt like the Sahara.

“Well, I should probably be-“ you began, turning to leave only to have your wrist caught by one of Fred’s large hands.

You looked down at him, shocked by his grip and immediately warm at the feeling of his skin against your own. An annoyingly amused smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he beckoned you closer with his hand. Against your better judgement, you leant in, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear the thumping of your heart in your chest. His face, you realised as a lump made its home in your throat, was so close that you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Has it got anything to do with my sister hiding round the corner over there?” he whispered so no one else could hear, raising a teasing brow. Something stirred inside your chest at his expression and the way the words rolled of his tongue and shakily, you inhaled, biting your lip.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you answered, but the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

“Of course, you don’t,” he mused, eyes scanning your face, looking for something you didn’t quite understand. He held you close by your wrist for a second, too long, you thought briefly, surveying your face. He released his grip abruptly and hummed before leaning back into the chair. You stood up straight quickly, breathing a little too heavily from the close proximity, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

With your new-found freedom, you all but sprinted back to the girls’ dorm, almost tripping over the rug as you rushed to somewhere where Fred wasn’t seeping into your every thought.

“Oi!” he yelled when you were almost out of the woods, only centimetres away from Ginny. You turned on your heel to see Fred leant lazily over the back of the armchair with a cheeky grin rivalled only by Ginny’s.

“I think you’re pretty cute too.”

He shot you a wink and you thought, for a fleeting moment before your friends attacked you like vultures for details, that you had it a lot worse for Fred Weasley than you’d previously imagined.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@loveisblindness

@decadentwastelandtrash

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@rexorangecouny

@staringmoony

@ickle-ronniekins

@harrysweasleys

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

Photo

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) 司岚 SR 「欧洲纪行」 Clarence SR [Journey to Europe] Painting Story Translation: Of the Stonehenge and the Acropolis

*For All Time Master-list / Clarence’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Card is from the [Ruins & Civilizations] series. *Yes, Clarence speaks really good English...

“Telling a story of a distant place.”

From England to Europe, he's just like a walking encyclopedia. But it's Clarence, so I suppose perfection is the norm; right?

Three weeks later, I got my Visa and started my journey to Ancient Civilization.

First, I'll fly to Europe.

The first stop will be the prehistoric site of the United Kingdom.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Regret didn't truly strike until I reached Stonehenge, and it did. Hard.

Being part of a TV Program wasn’t any sort of holiday at all; the work schedule starts the very moment we take off, and there wasn’t much time to rest either.

Starting last afternoon, we'd taken a plane to the airport in London, Heathrow, flying through the large part of the night; and then followed up with a bus ride to Wiltshire before we could even regain our bearings.

I felt a little dizzy and faint just gazing upon this large pile of rocks under the scorching rays of the sun…

▷Choice: Jet-lag sucks…

Despite having fallen asleep on the plane here, the jet lag still made me rather uncomfortable…

▷Choice: Long-distance flights suck…

The air was too stagnant for my taste, given that it was a long-distance flight. Plus, the economy-class seats were way too narrow. Hence, I didn’t sleep well at night...

Thinking about it now, Emerald had truly taken care of me well during all of my previous trips abroad. He’d buy me a flight ticket under the business-class, and even reserve plenty of time before the actual trip itself, enough so that I could recover from the jet lag.

I read the lines of the script that was to be recorded for the TV filming in a dead tone.

MC: Stonehenge is a renowned prehistoric monument made of bluestones in Europe. It was built between 4000~2000 BC, spanning an area of around 11 square meters…

Thankfully, my main job was painting. If I had to memorize this entire script, I'm afraid I'd fall asleep way before any of these words stuck to my brain…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

With that in mind, I snuck a glance over at Clarence, who was preparing to be on camera.

I heard that he'd come to Europe once during high school as an exchange student, and that his English capabilities were exceptional.

Hence, that was why he was in charge of explaining the whole story of the Ancient European Civilization.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

He listened intently to the Director's instructions, smiling as he stepped before the lens.

Clarence held an information booklet as he started delving into the explanation in front of Stonehenge.

What happened was truly something out of the realms of my expectations. Clarence had started with a paragraph of English narration.

Clarence: What can it be？

Clarence: The place was all doors and pillars, some connected above by continuous architraves.

Clarence: It is Stonehenge! Older than the centuries; older than the d'Urbervilles.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Clarence: In one of Britain's masterpieces, "Tess of the d'Urbervilles", this was the final destination of the runaway, Tess.

Clarence: The farmer girl Tess, who believed in god, laid to sleep peacefully atop the remains of the Altar built by the Druids.

Clarence: It is so solemn and lonely— after my great happiness with nothing but the sky above my face.

Clarence: It is at the very end of life, that all prayers, regrets, and pain comes to an end. Tess laid atop the Altar built by the Druids with only the sky above her head.

Clarence: That's right. This is the place where Tess had laid to sleep, entering a peaceful slumber. The people of ancient times had built their Altar here more than 2000 BC ago.

Clarence: As time passed, people started believing in the other gods and speaking other languages. Yet, the story of the vast sky that hung overhead and the towering rocks, are something that has been passed down from generation to generation...

Using "Tess of the d'Urbervilles" as an intro, Clarence delved into the main explanation of Stonehenge.

He subtly turned the topic back around, explaining the significance of Stonehenge in the histories of both architecture and astronomy alike.

He walked into the center of the stone monument as he spoke, explaining the principal axis of the pillars that made the Stonehenge. And about how the old path would fall in line with the morning sun of the summer solstice.

Meanwhile, the other two pillars paint in the direction of where the sun sets during the winter solstice.

Clarence's explanations were simple and easy to understand. It was intriguing enough that even I got enthralled by it despite how sleepy I initially felt.

Director: Amazing! Truly amazing! Your speech is way better than the script, Clarence!

Director: St. Shelter's University really did find a competent and suitable person for the job!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I finally got the chance to talk to Clarence upon returning to the hotel in the afternoon.

He told me that he liked this whole plan about the Ancient Civilizations because he was once an exchange student here in Europe; hence, his familiarity with the European Ruins. He said that these ruins had managed to witness human civilization; and that this world only became much more interesting due to the footprints that humans leave behind.

——This view of his was similarly shared by Emerald himself.

Clarence: I was actually the one who suggested the next site to the Director and his team.

I glanced at the plane ticket.

MC: Athens, Greece…? Are we going to see the Acropolis?

▷Choice: Athens is where the European Civilization originated from!

MC: The European Civilization originated from Greek. And I heard that the Acropolis of Athens is a marvelous historical place to behold.

▷Choice: I once saw a show called “Saint X”...

MC: I once saw a show where all the Saints of X lived within a sanctuary, which happened to be the Acropolis.

MC: So, I think that the Acropolis should be a marvelous relic of history!

Clarence smiled wordlessly.

Clarence: You'll know once you get there.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After a day’s rest, we flew off towards Athens, Greece.

We then took a ferry from Piraeus Port to Rhode Island.

MC: I can’t believe that the Acropolis isn’t the historical relic of Greece… Fine. I should have known. I mean, you were smiling! But you never did reply to me...

MC: Still, how strange. What other historical remains are there on Rhode Island that are more valuable than the Acropolis itself?

Clarence: The Acropolis is indeed the largest ruin in Greece. However, I personally doubt that the ruins of civilization need to be shown through such grandeur.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I was absolutely dumbfounded when Clarence walked right back to Rhode Island’s Port.

There was nothing else here… Other than the ordinary port and Castle erected by the later generations.

Clarence took one glance at the script before turning back up to face the cameras while explaining.

Clarence: This is Rhode Island. Standing here now, I can only see the peaceful harbor and the buildings built by the later generations.

Clarence: In 282 BC, a bronze statue of Helios, the Greek God of the Sun, was erected here. However, the statue was destroyed by an earthquake a mere 56 years later.

Clarence: Though it lasted for only a short period, it was still long enough for it to be recognized by Antipater, a traveler of the old, as one of the “Seven Wonders of the World”

Clarence explained about "Rhode Island's Sun God Statue". Based on his description, it was a colossal statue that towered at the height of 33 meters. It was made entirely out of bronze. The torch in its hand acted as a lighthouse, and its two feet, each on one end of the shore, served as the Port’s entryway.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Based on Clarence’s descriptions of the place, I let my thoughts wander, bringing me to Ancient Europe. The grand statue seemingly reappeared before my eyes.

I raised my head to look at the statue. It stood between the blue sky and the sea, the torch in its hand blazing furiously, lighting the way for any passing ships and directing them towards the harbor...

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Clarence: After the fateful earthquake, the ruins of what remained of the God of the Sun laid there in silence for another thousand years.

Clarence: After that, Rhode Island was conquered by the Arabs, and the remains of the statue smuggled to Syria. The site of glory that was once behold became no more.

Clarence: Mankind creates miracles, yet destroys them all the same.

Clarence: We create prosperity alongside the development of Civilization, yet at the same time, we destroy what’s beautiful and well in light of our greed and desire.

I now know why he’d suggested Rhode Island instead for the filming location for the “European Civilization”.

The Acropolis was the origin of European Civilization.

However, the statue of the God of the Sun in Rhode Island tells us all, that no matter what Civilization it may be, it can all just be as easily erased by the hands of the very humans who built it.

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #司岚 #Si Lan #Clarence #鳥海浩輔 #toriumi kousuke #Toriumi Kohsuke

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btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

Crossfire | KTH

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 3.5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, violence, kidnapping/being restrained (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: so things heat up a bit in this chapter... I hope you guys enjoy the faster pace, it felt right to me but there are more scene cuts etc so I hope it works :) and huge thank you again to everyone reblogging my work! I see you and it really helps me out xx

Taehyung wondered if you noticed.

He knew you were often asleep long after he left, but he wondered if you remembered the times he had woken up with an arm over you, or when you had both moved closer in the night, or the way he would let his sleepy eyes wander your face before he decided to face the world.

Or maybe it was all lost in the haze of sleep for you, belonging only under the covers and in the dark.

He wondered if you ever heard his singing again. Whenever he sang in the mornings, though he had always enjoyed doing it for himself, he thought of you. He hoped you were listening.

After the excitement of hitting the jackpot with Soonjae, you spent your days with Tae’s books again. You had served your purpose, assured by him that they didn’t need more than one inner member for the time being. You doubted you would have found anything on the last member of the list, ‘Jintao’, anyway.

Days and books passed. So did nights with Tae.

It became clear to you that his way of expressing himself was quite physical. Though you enjoyed his touch, and initiated it yourself, you knew that to him, it was just the way he was with friends. Nothing more.

But it didn’t matter to you, as you enjoyed yourself in his company anyway.

Another meeting was called. This time it was much more fruitful, and a date was set. Since the last one, members they had already gathered from Shinhyuk’s gang had been able to pass on information to root out more members, and so on.

As Jin confirmed that Soonjae had successfully been bought out with a healthy mix of blackmail and promises of freedom, you glowed. The boys weren’t shy to thank you as well, even though they had doubted you at first.

Jungkook had found out about a deal Shinhyuk himself would be present at, though Jungkook was not required. And they were using the shop Shinhyuk had gained after his earlier attack, so he would be in the middle of their territory and at their mercy.

This was their chance to turn the tables on their enemy.

The idea was to capture Shinhyuk at the deal, and with him gone, the rest of the gang would be ready to fall apart. Their allies could move in, easily taking the area Shinhyuk had dominated for so long.

During the subsequent movie night, you and Tae shared a private toast with plastic cups of coke. To your hard work, though you insisted he share some of the credit.

As you chucked away the litter in the kitchen that night, out of breath after just a minute, you rediscovered your pack of red pills. You certainly hadn’t been taking them consistently.

That night, the rare occasion came when you could not get to sleep. Lying in the dark, you gazed over at Tae, just a lump under the duvet as he slept. You had shared in the excitement and hopefulness with the others earlier, but now you couldn’t help thinking-

What would happen when it was all over?

If they succeeded, and you could go back home, what would happen to you?

Last time you had interacted with Tae, and it certainly couldn’t be classed as more than that, you had gone straight back to normal afterwards. He had been charming, and of course he was attractive, but it had been easy for you to stay away, knowing his friends and their reputation.

Or at least you thought you had known.

Now you had met them all, shared takeaways and movie nights, and you and Tae had shared far more. You couldn’t forget about it. You wouldn’t want to.

“Are you excited?”

Pressing your lips into a smile, you gave Taehyung a nod. Not the most enthusiastic of responses.

Today was the day.

That evening, if everything went according to plan, Shinhyuk would lose everything, and you would be free. You could see your dad again. Go back to your place.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited, but the excitement was swamped by everything else you were feeling.

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok,” Taehyung took your silence as denial and shuffled closer to you where you were reading a book against the headboard, eventually laying his head on your shoulder. And though it thrilled you, you stiffened. Trying your hardest not to react, you stared down at your book without absorbing any words.

Tae had opted to stay home from college today, even though the raid was to be in the evening.

Together you had made a ‘fancy’ lunch of pancakes, watched a short film and now you were anticipating the hour when he would have to go. Today had felt too full of goodbyes. You knew, however, that there was still one more to come, when he would leave to fight once and for all.

“You’ll get to go back home!” he attempted again to lighten the mood, but his words only made your heart heavier.

Sighing, you put your book aside, tilting your head to lean on top of his.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see my dad.”

“Trust me, you’ll be happy when you see him again.”

“You’re right,” you sighed again, “I just… he got us into this whole mess – not that I don’t understand why.”

Taehyung considered you for a second.

“Not everything was his fault. He just did it because he loves you. He wants the best for you.”

“Why are you right about everything?” you laughed, making your shoulders shake and dislodging Tae’s head from its spot.

Sitting up fully again, he shoved your shoulder gently in retaliation. There he stayed, face slightly obscured as he sat forward while you rested back.

After a moment of silence, his impatient hands flipped his phone over.

“The others are setting off,” he informed you. You had learned that the eldest four were going to lie in wait, Taehyung and Jimin going in later as backup. Jungkook was at one of Shinhyuk’s other bases, known simply as ‘angel’, out of suspicion’s reach.

Taehyung didn’t have long.

“Do you think…” he started, voice low and quiet, “do you ever think that even though everything that happened, with your dad, though it was messed up… maybe something good came out of it?”

You stared at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t have met all of you guys otherwise,” you admitted, “it’s been fun with you.”

Nodding, Taehyung finally turned, positioning himself in front of you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw him look down, taking a deep breath.

“You know, when we had that project together, it was never more than a crush,” his eyes came to meet yours and your heart thudded in your chest. He was so close to you, watching you intently, “but, Y/N, I really like you. And it’s not good, what happened, but I’m glad you came to my door that night. And I know I’m going to miss you after all this so I had to say something, maybe I’m crazy but-“

“You’re not crazy,” you finally found your voice after staring in awe at the boy, at the words coming out of his mouth, “I-I feel the same. I want this to be all over with Shinhyuk, but I don’t want to stop seeing you. I don’t want to go.”

You were sure the look in his eyes was mirrored in your own.

Shakily, he exhaled.

The two of you were so close now, the air around you static, holding its breath as you leaned forwards, closing the distance.

Until your lips met, you hadn’t known how much you wanted it. Taehyung’s hand came up to cup your jaw softly, the other travelling to your waist as you savoured the kiss, blissfully sweet but filled with longing.

Chasing more bliss, you tilted your head, transforming the kiss from something gentle to something more, and all too soon it was over, leaving you both panting, foreheads resting together, breathless smiles on your faces. Returning the gaze from Tae’s dark eyes, you looked back with just as much awe.

His eyes dropped once more to your lips. Your own parted in anticipation as you watched him dart his tongue out subconsciously.

Then his phone buzzed.

You both hesitated, but pulled back. Today of all days, you were aware the messages would be important. As he reached across the bed for the phone, his hand enveloped yours, happy now he could finally hold it when he wanted.

The screen lit up, showing only two words from Jungkook.

Code Black

One of Hoseok’s hands rested on the wheel. The car was engulfed in shadow, the four boys silent as they watched their target across the street.

Before, it had looked unassuming, just another local business in the row of shops crammed together. Now, the sign had been ripped down, leaving a gap in the otherwise continuous row of neon and paint that made up the front of other businesses. Both front windows were shattered, painting spiderwebs over the black canvas of the dark interior.

Tonight the road wasn’t busy. It was easy to spot as the car pulled up outside, two men in suits leaving it and entering the shop.

“They’re early,” Jin muttered, but they prepared anyway.

The deal would be over quickly, Shinhyuk just coming to pick up and inspect his new haul of weapons.

Sticking to the shadows, Yoongi led the way, easily blending in with the streets in his slouchy black clothes. Hoseok tapped his foot as he watched his friends leave one by one.

The men inside jumped when Yoongi threw the door open, holding his glock confidently in front of him. Namjoon and Jin flanked him, pulling out their guns as well, leaving the two men outnumbered, one behind the counter of the shop where the package was due to be, the other’s hand flying instantly to the holster on his belt.

For a moment, the only sound was a car starting up outside.

Then the second man turned around, gun raised, and fired. Yoongi ducked, running forward at a crouch as the glass door behind him shattered, two more shots going off as the other suited man fired and Namjoon retaliated.

Another shot flew past his shoulder as Yoongi dived over the counter, tackling his opponent, quickly handing him a fist to the face, hand fisting his collar.

From the other side of the shop came the grunting of the others as Namjoon and Jin took the first man down. In the struggle, he started yelling.

“Backup! Backup!”

Jin ripped an earpiece from the man’s ear, tossing it across the room.

Once they had both of them under control, Jin pressing the face of the man that had shouted into a table, arm in a lock behind his back, Yoongi pinning the other down with his gun lying uselessly in the middle of the shop floor, Namjoon strode to the counter.

“Where is Shinhyuk?” he demanded, looking between both men, neither of which were the intended target.

Not a word came in reply.

Maintaining his composure while the other two looked between each other in panic, Namjoon reached across the counter to lift up the large duffel bag that lay there. He frowned.

Placing it on the top, it made no sound, and pulling open the zip revealed the bag to be full of rolled up newspapers.

“What is this?” Namjoon’s fury bled through his words as he rummaged in the bag, coming up empty handed. A few balls of newspaper rolled onto the floor, but no one else dared move.

Looking at the man below him, Yoongi found he looked as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

“Where are the weapons?” he shook the guy, glaring at him until a reply left his lips.

“I-I don’t know, Shin said we had to come and pick them up-”

The buzzing of a phone sounded, and Namjoon pulled his out.

Code Black

He whirled around, but no one was to be seen outside. Only their own car.

Jin stepped back, releasing his captive.

“What is it?” he asked Namjoon.

“Jungkook. It’s a trap,” the blond ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the space in panic. They were in a dead end.

Yoongi was standing too now, and followed his leader in a heartbeat when he moved to the door.

“Where the fuck’s our car?” one of the men spoke behind them.

“’E’s left us,” the other responded in shock, “no one’s coming.”

Turning, Yoongi found them both standing, lost, staring at the empty road outside and the fake bag of ammo.

“You should get out of here,” he warned, stepping into the night.

“Bring him in.”

Shinhyuk had turned off his screen the moment he saw bangtan approaching the shop. He had sent disposable men; whatever happened to them now didn’t concern him. Catching the rat did.

Now, he strolled into the room where Jungkook was held.

“Well played, Jeon,” he snarled, “Very subtle.”

The boy glared back at him with ice in his eyes.

“I know you stole the file,” he continued, then to the guards flanking him, “search him.”

Struggling against his bonds didn’t help, but Shinhyuk’s smirking face had riled Jungkook up enough that he didn’t care about the metal digging into his skin. He didn’t know where his friends were. He had only had time to send out that one message as the guards had come barging in to get him.

At least he could take pride in the amount it had taken to get him under control. There were several nursing wounds upstairs as they spoke.

As rough hands patted at him, pulling his clothes and making their way into his pockets, Shinhyuk kept talking.

“I had my suspicions, Jeon. You proved them today. You were the only one I told about the deal, the perfect opportunity for bangtan to try and make a move, but it was just a fairy tale,” his lips curled up into a wolfish smile, “there were never any weapons. There was never any deal.”

He looked on, chuckling, as the search concluded, but the result pulled the smile right of his face.

“No file?” Jungkook took his turn to smirk.

“I know you’re the rat, boy,” Shinhyuk advanced, pushing his face right into Jungkook’s space, “but if you aren’t, how will your pretty friends know where to find you?”

Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

He was the bait.

Shinhyuk’s laughter rang out through the room, haunting him even after the man had slammed the door behind him, leaving Jungkook struggling against his bonds alone in the cell.

“Code black – Jungkook’s been found out,” Namjoon began addressing the tense boys gathered in his front room.

“They’re holding him at angel,” Taehyung added. He clutched his phone with white knuckles, having just been using it to speak to the leader of that specific base, the first rival that had defected to their side.

“Right, we can easily get in there and get him back,” Jin spoke remarkably calmly.

“Not so easy, actually,” Tae’s voice was dark, “Shinhyuk’s there too now. He’s waiting for us to come in.”

Every one of them was sitting forward in their seats, wracking their brains for a next move after they had been played and taken off-guard. Jimin lowered his head, running both hands through his hair.

“What if we turn up in one of Shinhyuk’s cars?” Hoseok suggested, “we can call on some of the drivers.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon nodded, “we still have the element of surprise on our side. He doesn’t know we’ve infiltrated him.”

“But let’s just get in, get Jungkook, and go,” Jimin said.

“Right,” Namjoon agreed, “today doesn’t have to be our victory anymore. Let’s just get Jungkook back and safely.”

Together, they stood, filing out of the room in silence.

You couldn’t stop reliving your kiss with Taehyung all evening. He had been gone a while, leaving in seconds after he checked his phone, hurriedly telling you something had come up.

Worried though you were, you knew all you could do was wait. It wasn’t easy trying to stay patient after you and Taehyung had finally confessed to each other, and you wanted nothing more than to continue where you left off.

Equally, your mind wouldn’t stop running through all the worst case scenarios. How would you know if something bad happened to him?

Trying your best to preoccupy yourself, you read for a bit longer, pushing away the nerves over what could be happening out there right now. Every time your mind drifted from the page in front of you, you told yourself there was nothing you could do. The plan was a good one, and now all the boys had to do was pull it off.

Somehow that didn’t help.

As darkness fell, you quietly made your way downstairs, closing the curtains while staying out of sight. You didn’t even turn the living room light on.

Already you were a little out of breath, so you stopped and rested on the arm of the sofa.

That was when someone knocked on the door.

Turning towards the sound, you started walking, but stopped yourself only feet away from the front door. Tae’s friends sometimes knocked, but they all had their own key too.

A second knock sounded, louder this time.

Frozen on the spot, you debated with yourself. Who on earth could it be? Maybe something had happened to Tae, and they were here to tell you…

The banging resumed, this time with a shout.

“Y/N?”

You gasped. That wasn’t one of the boys, but it sounded a lot like-

“Jake?” you muttered under your breath, approaching the door to look through the peephole.

Sure enough, there was your college friend on the step. He was looking down at something you couldn’t see, but it was him alright.

Cautiously, you lifted your hand to the catch and opened the door a crack.

“Jake?”

His hands flew behind his back, making you frown at him.

“Y/N…” he pushed at the door, which you let fall open just a little bit more, “I can’t believe I’ve found you, it’s all gonna be okay, yeah? We’ve been looking for you for so long…”

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry…” you shuffled in the doorway. He was standing close to you, eager to be let in, but you stood your ground, “I couldn’t get in touch, but I promise I’m fine I just-“

“Y/N, you aren’t thinking straight,” he pushed forward again.

This time you weren’t strong enough to stop the door opening. You stepped hurriedly away from him as he crossed the threshold. You wanted to sit down again, but you didn’t feel comfortable with Jake in the house.

“We were so worried at college Y/N, and so is your dad” he begged, holding his hands out, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

Frowning back at him, you didn’t move, so after a second he walked closer instead, driving you further down the hallway.

“Jake, please leave,” you told him.

What he was saying didn’t make sense. Your dad was under Shinhyuk now, your college friends couldn’t have possibly contacted him-

“Let’s go home, Y/N,” he said.

But you knew your ‘home’ wasn’t safe anymore. Your eyes darted to the open door behind him, wondering if you could run. Then you saw something.

Two long metal pins were jammed into the lock at the front of the house. He had been trying to break in.

All you knew when you started running was that you weren’t going with Jake. Rushing through the kitchen door and slamming it hard in his face, you dashed out of the side door, straight onto a small alley between two houses. Not letting your feet stop, you ran as fast as you could, away from the main street and further into unfamiliar paths.

Behind you, the door slammed as Jake gave chase, but instead of calling out to you, he shouted, “this way!”

Then more footsteps joined him.

Blood whooshed through your ears, chest constricting after only a couple of corners, but your pursuers gave no sign of letting up. The stab wound seared in your side, and for a moment your vision went white. It was only a split second, but you knew you were in trouble.

Not now, not now…

You willed your legs to keep going. You had to get away.

Then the bang of a gunshot deafened your ears and you ducked blindly, stumbling forwards before picking up the pace again.

One more shot hit the wall by your ear, making you flinch away.

Sparks were filling your vision, and you could barely breathe, but you pushed yourself, knowing danger lay behind. Your eyes screwed shut against the pain as you forced yourself to run, when a bang sounded, followed by a new, burning pain slicing through your shoulder.

You were unconscious before you hit the asphalt.

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