#and you all hated inquisition when it came out don’t let me catch you saying it was sooo good

[assblastergaster]

while i understand the complaints about the tone of DA:V (especially because the game suffers a lot from those EA/bioware writing team cullings and three different development cycles) , i think it’s a kind of “in-canon” acceptable explanation for a lack of things like elf/dwarf/qunari racism, slavery in tevinter, mage bigotry is just the rush the characters are in to solve this crisis. your team is simply not interacting enough with other people for long enough to get to know their complexities. it’s not the most satisfying explanation—but i think it explains a lot.

like the other games are on similar time frames (except DA2) BUT with the constant idea that no one really believes that the world is ending. however, after the events of inquisition, the entire world has been forced to deal with the ramifications of solas’ shit and the literal veil tear across the sky that was seen across the world. and the southern chantry (the only one with real power) has been gone for 10 years, meaning the EVERYDAY pressures to hate mages have gone, especially after people realized free mages don’t just randomly turn into demons all the time. the game literally starts with the Magisterium exploding half of the world’s largest city, the blight rising in the south, and the antaam invading the east (predicating on the fact that Seheron has fallen into chaos). like in origins, i think there’s an uneasy alliance between everyone right now regardless of magic or not.

racism and slavery are poorly addressed, regardless of an explanation, but semi-reasonably we can also conclude that this is because your rook/companions is not literally traveling through the world like the previous MCs were (given eluvian travel), and you spend little time in each area to interact with people who aren’t literally your contacts (who you know aren’t racist/magephobes) or your enemies (a given). now, a lack of all the previous conflicts between races mentioned even in passing, or between NPCs, and a complete lack of moral grayness of the companions regarding the issues magic/race, is just bad. but, of course, i think that this is a result of the writers’ working conditions. EA doesn’t want a game with complex, interwoven storylines that deal with horrible topics that you may or may not come to terms with—they want money. so the DA writing team doesn’t get the time they need to add these layers, and are instead made to focus solely on the complexities of the Evanuris and their history.

yes. this is copium—to the nth degree—but i refuse to be a pussy bitch who whines that this game shouldn’t be canon at all. that’s stupid, and be real. all of the games, even in the last DLC of origins, have been absolutely hated at first. no one likes the way the writers go with anything, because they have to choose a single path in the twisted, complex world we all have grown to know. there are parts of this game that i would rather just imagine didn’t happen (taash’s story being handled so amateurishly for one, the whitewashing of the crows, etc.), but the ultimate story is not bad—and it doesn’t “undo” nearly as much lore as many people have claimed it does. Solas either is made to, or chooses to, undo mistakes that set the modern Thedas into motion thousands of years ago. he rids the world of the artificial doomsday he created, to bring it back into a state it was before them (potentially bringing back titans in some way), for the next game to face the ancient evils that existed in their world BEFORE what we knew to be true.

the games have always been leading up to this. Mythal as flemeth is a classic example of—you think you know, but you do not. The evanuris didn’t know what ancient forces they were messing with and still were brought to their knees by themselves—which is literally the plot of Origins.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Me, Us, and You

Synopsis: You've been used one too many times, and find comfort in the arms of those you love.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of being used as an emotional outlet

~ * ~

“Hey… why do people like using me?” Foul Legacy looks up from the chunk of crystal he was batting around, tilting his head curiously. You catch his gaze, inquisitive and concerned, and sigh. “…Sorry. It’s nothing.” He frowns with a quiet trill. Not good- he’s seen this habit before, your way of pushing down your emotions, never speaking a word. Legacy shakes out his fur, rising to his feet and crossing the room before plopping down beside you, chittering in worry. His claws knead against the carpet, nudging and pushing up against you gingerly until you finally huff out a laugh and weakly shove him back. “…You get what I mean." He does. Far too well. He’s seen it happen, from behind a corner as Childe; idly twirling a coin between his fingers, walking up to meet you at your favorite restaurant, or merely happening to pass by on the street.

One, two, three. Then more. The number of times that you’ve been treated as a mere outlet. You’re too kind for your own good, too patient, too understanding. Why can’t you get angry? Why don’t you tell off the people who start using you as an object to vent their emotions to- or at least tell them no? Instead you just smile and nod, offer your advice even when you don’t know what to say since you don’t even know your own feelings and what they mean, but you try so, so hard to lift them up, help them feel strong, better, braver. And they do. They smile again, nod, laugh. Sometimes they take your advice, sometimes they just want someone to agree with them. Whatever the case, they leave lighter, and you leave with a new burden in your arms. It’s fine. You don’t mind carrying it for them, as long as they’re happier- you insist that it makes you happy if they are, too. But inside it still hurts, knowing you only exist when someone needs you to listen. When you need to fulfil a certain role or do something for someone.

They started getting used to it, too. Pulling you into conversations as innocently as a lamb only to pour forth a tidal sea of issues and frustration. They cry and rant and yell and scream and then pat you on the back with a smile with a see you soon and talk to you later. One even paused, looking at your tapping fingers, your focused expression, and told you to write things down. So you could remember them for later, if more things came up- we wouldn’t want you to forget, now would we? A pause, a strained smile, as you fished a notebook and pencil from your bag. It made dread coil in your chest, a heavy weight over your heart. That’s right. You only matter as long as you have use.

There’s a croon, and you blink, shaken from your daze. Foul Legacy stares down at you, crystalline eye wide and anguished. No. No, no, no- he hates that you think of yourself like that, as someone, something to be used. He crawls towards you, cupping your face in his claws and letting out a soft, saddened warble. His wings twitch and flutter, curling in your direction as if he wants nothing more than to cuddle you close and shield you from all the dreadful things in the world, because he does, his instincts scratching at his skull and hissing, biting, gnashing the source of your hurt, trying to vanquish it in battle and make it disappear. Protect. Heal. Love.

Legacy squeezes you a bit tighter, pressing your head against his lavender fluff, grown soft with how much you brush and fawn over it. You think he’s beautiful- you’ve told him before, time and time again. Beautiful, lovely, wonderful- why can’t you see how amazing you are, too? How much you help, how much you matter? Even if anyone else can’t see past their own nose, he knows how much you deserve to be showered with gratitude and affection. His gentle nuzzles shift and crackle lightly, turning to soft skin, scarred hands massaging your arms. Childe presses his forehead to yours, his despair on par with Foul Legacy’s, murmuring frantic words of reassurance filled with tears. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all you ever call your feelings, your wants and needs. You’ve spent so long supporting others that you can’t even remember anything you desire, truly, nothing at all. He caresses your cheek, looking deep into your eyes with an oceanic gaze. Please, tell him something you want. Anything. Please. You shudder, and desperately reach your arms to him. Childe meets you halfway, wrapping you in a firm, tight hug and pressing his face against your shoulder.

He wants to give you everything, yet he knows what you need most is someone you can just exist with, not to help, not to complete a task for them, but just to be in their- his- presence. If you listen to his woes, ever, not even the Archons would be able to stop him from listening to yours, because you deserve it. Friendships go both ways, the world seems to have forgotten. Childe was your friend first, and he’s your friend now, and your love, your Harbinger, your sweet, monstrous Foul Legacy, and he adores you with every fiber of his being. Childe peppers kisses over your face, one hand human, the other armored talons, both him and his Abyssal half comforting you. Yes, they get what you mean. They get what you mean all too well, aching and weeping and watching you suffer again and again, wringing yourself dry for people who toss you away once their problems are solved.

But not with them. Never again with Childe and Legacy, forever by your side. You have no tears left to cry, but they still hush you, gently. Shh, shh… it’s alright. Everything will be okay. Childe sighs as he pulls away, tracing your features with a finger and holding back his own sobs, steadying his voice against his resentment towards the world for your treatment. “Talk to me. Talk to us. Please.” For us, we love you so.

[desswright29]

FEMININITY

Pairing: Shuri Udaku X Confused reader

Word Count: 7.2k 😳

Contains: Fluff, Smut(18+), Reader has a child

A/N: This story kicked my ass so I really hope y’all read and enjoy! An homage to what’s beautiful about being with a woman.

Queen: I needed to get away. I’ll be in your city. Can I come by to see you guys tonight?

You look down at the message and smile. Shuri. You two became fast friends when you began an internship at one of the outreach centers. You ran through the ranks easily which caught the attention of the Princess, and caused you two to form an easy friendship. After your internship was over, you got a job at Stark enterprises with a glowing recommendation from the now Queen of Wakanda. You and Shuri remained friends, though you didn’t see eachother as often due to both of your busy schedules. But every once in awhile she came around to unwind from her chaotic life.

 Angel: Anytime Queen. We’ll be glad to have you. 🥰

You text back and sit your phone down. You turn around to your seven yr old son sitting at the Kitchen table, eating his breakfast like a big boy. “Guess what little guy!” He looks up from his food, and smiles at you beaming as he senses your excitement. “Shuri’s coming by today!” His eyes widen as he bounced a little in his seat.

 “Shuri!” He said voice filled with joy “Mommy, You think she’ll bring me something cool!” He asked. Eyes big and bright, already anticipating his new gadget. “Who knows kiddo.” You say with a smile. “Finish your food and have an awesome day in school and we’ll see.” You already knew she’d definitely be bringing him something. She was particularly impressed with your son and loved giving him things that would eventually cause you grief. 

  “Zahir, Let’s go little one!” You yelled to him from the living room. He came hopping down the stairs. You’d gotten yourself and your son ready for the day, and were out of the house in record time, now you were eager to tackle your day. You dropped off Zah with a hug and kiss and headed to work, all smiles and waves as you headed to your office with a bounce in your step. Asia, your work bestie, saw you coming as she got coffee from the break room. Her brow raised over top of her cup as she took a sip looking at you suspiciously. Your eyes connected and you continued walking right past her. “Oh no you did not!” She yells after you as she jogs to catch up, falling in your step.

 “My aren’t we chipper and ready for the day!” She says to you sarcastically doing a happy little wiggle. You look at her and roll your eyes. “ I’m always happy to be here. I love my job nosy.” She scoffs. “Uh huh, speaking of nosyyyy, I hear the Queens in town.” She smiled big, cutting right to the chase, typical Asia. You raise a brow avoiding eye contact. “British?” You say inquisitively as you both enter your office. She closes the door behind you both.

“Bitch, you know what Queen I’m talking about. The one that’s got you walking through the office smiling and waving like Ms. America!” She mocks you smiling big, waving, laughing, and pointing, amplifying your earlier interactions. You laugh “I was not doing all that. You’re so extra!”

“Whatever girl, that’s not what I’m here for. Have you heard from her?” She sat in one of the leather chairs infront of your desk making herself comfortable. You follow her lead sitting in the the chair behind your desk. “ Yes I have she’s stopping by tonight.” Asia squeals. “Oh hell yea! I’m coming” You raise both brows and shake your head “Absoluetly not! Don’t bring your ass to my house Asia.” 

“You’re right, I don’t wanna be in the way.” She said wiggling her brow and rolling her body. 

“Get a life.” You say trying to hide your grin. 

“Damn girl! Leave it up to you to pull a fine ass African, stud Queen. Where they making those at? Talk about one of one.” You try to hold back your laugh. “I really hate you, who says shit like that Asia. And Shuri is not a stud, she’s a Stem, and we are very much FREINDS and that’s ALL.” You say with emphasis.

“Ah Ha! You said that shit like you believed it. That was cute. It’s giving Letitia Wright.” She laughed, and you flicked her off. “I’m just saying, Stud, Stem, whatever the fuck she wanna be, I’m straight as an arrow and she could fold me in half and strap my ankles to the headboard! Do you hear me! I’d be turning all the tricks! The neighbors would know my na-“

“Aight! Damn Asia you always take it far. Get out of my office so I can start my day.”

“That’s cool. I’ll do that. But you better hop on that strap before somebody take your seat hoe. Give that baby a stud daddy!” She gets up out of her chair. 

“ Please, Leave”

“BYE! Bougie bitch.” She whispers the last part under her breath as she walks out. 

“I heard that!” You yell.

“SO!” She yells back.

You shake your head laughing. You smile and continue your day happily anticipating the night. 

————————————————————————

You looked in your mirror placing your locs in a high ponytail leaving two locs out in the front. You’d showered and changed into a form fitting black short set. The shirt rose just above your naval showing off your waist beads. You sprayed on your “Killian Love Don’t Be Shy”, glossed your lips, and headed to your kitchen to check on your sides before putting the steaks on the grill. You turned on your speaker and danced around as you cooked. Shuri loved your cooking. You smiled as you thought of how she always reacted to your meals. Zah Sat in the living room playing games on his Nintendo Switch, when you both heard the door bell ring. 

  You both stopped what you were doing and raced eachother toward the door. Your son ran past you pushing you out of the way. “Boy!” He got to the door and smiled at you. “Beat you Mama!” He laughed, and opened the door. You didn’t have time to react before your heart dropped to your stomach. There she stood with that sexy ass smile, hands behind her back. Her undercut was fresh, beautiful curls sat neatly atop her head stopping right above her brow, right ear adorned in several earrings, and she had a single gold chain around her neck. She wore a dark grey shortsleeved compression shirt with matching sweat pants. Her lean muscles more pronounced than the last time you saw her, tattoos gracing her arms making her even more of a work of art. She looked at you and smiled with a wink before squatting down in front of Zahir. 

“SHURI!!” He yelled running into her arms, that she held out for him, as she dropped the bag she’d had in her hands. “Wow little man! You’re getting so big.” She says pulling back and ruffling his individual twist. “Yea, Mommy says I’m a big boy. I got muscles too. “He says stepping back flexing for her.

“Ooooweee!” She reached to touch it and snapped her hand back fast. “Dang kid! You almost broke my finger.” 

“Yep, I’m gonna be really strong and fast like you!”

“Oh you’re coming for me huh little panther?” She says as she picks him up and throws him over her shoulder as she stands and walks in the house. Using her foot to close the door. He laughs and kicks as she holds him tight while walking over to you. It felt like your world slowed down, like she was moving in slow motion towards you. Your eyes trailed her body. The way she moved, the way she paired her femininity with masculinity was feminine in its own right. Only something a woman could master so gracefully. With her hands being full, she could only lean down and press a gentle  kiss on your forehead in greeting. You wrapped your arms around her and Zah, Her scent immediately enveloping you; vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of burnt cherry. She was intoxicating. 

“Hey Shuri poo!” She pulled back and smiled. “It smells good in here.” You roll your eyes and smack her arm playfully. “It’s good to see you too Shuri” She looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the swell of your hips a while longer than they should, she smirks. “Always a pleasure Ms. Y/l/n.” She walks away, drops her bag next to the couch, and then takes Zahir off her shoulder into the air and slams him into the couch. “Shuri! Don’t start that rough sh- stuff already!” 

Shuri looked at Zah with wide eyes. “I know what she was about to say, do you know what she was about to say.” “Shuri! Don’t get put out immediately. Give yourself time.” She bunches up her lips in skepticism. “ Girl, please. We could take her right Zah! We could beat her up and take over the kingdom.” “Yea! You don’t want none mommy!” Shuri laughs. “Tell her Zah Zah!” You bite your lip, and shake your head at the interaction. “It’s been thirty seconds and I’m tired already.” You say walking back into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile listening to Shuri and Zahir continue to wrestle in the living room as you finished up cooking. 

  Zahir excitedly runs into the kitchen with Shuri trailing behind him, she’d taken off her shoes and made herself comfortable per usual. “Mommy! Mommy! Look at what Shuri made me.” You look down at the gauntlet on his wrist. As he aimed it at you and shot little foam balls. You stare at Shuri blankly as you get hit repeatedly. She looks at you, lips folded clearly holding back laughter judging by the furrow in her brow. 

“Wow! Another well thought out gift that won’t drive your mother crazy! Way to go Shuri!” You say with false excitement, narrowing your eyes at Shuri. She burst into laughter. “All in a days work!” She says with a salute. You smirk rolling your eyes, and turn back towards the stove. You feared your eyes would roll out of your head by the end of the night. Zahir ran out of the kitchen to continue launching balls from his gauntlet all over your clean home. Shortly after he leaves you feel arms wrap around your waist, as Shuri nuzzles her head into your neck. You lean back into the hug, laying your head onto hers.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” She askes as she moves her hands up and down your sides, then lower to began caressing your lower back with her thumbs. 

“Ofcourse not. You’re not doing anything I didn’t expect. He loves it when you visit you know.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke the side of her face, as you close your eyes body melting into her touch.

“Yes, I know, I wish I could be here more often. He’s a blast.”

“Yea? It’s almost like he’s the only reason you come.” You say teasingly.

Shuri turned you to face her taking your hands in hers, gently placing them around her neck. She wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you flush against her as she placed her forehead against yours. 

“You know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’ve missed you, Ntomb'am (my girl), You look so appetizing.” You blush looking into her deep brown orbs. 

“I’ve missed you too. You look aight” You say, laughing at your own joke. Shuri gasped in exaggerated offense. “Aight!? Damn you’re cold. I’m truly, truly hurt. Really.” She says, staring into your eyes, both of you getting lost until you were interrupted by the chime of her kimoyo beads. You both unwrap yourselves from eachother and you turn fast trying to slow your heart rate, as she steps back to answer the call. 

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Nothing I just missed you, called to see how everything went today.”

“It went great! You know I walked out with them in the palm of my hand.” You hear a little giggle from the other end of the call. 

“Ofcourse you did. You’re brilliant!” Shuri smiles, you internally roll your eyes. Turning around to plate your steaks. 

“Thank you! You’re so sweet to me. I’m getting ready to eat dinner now, and then I’m gonna lay down. It’s been a long day. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow though. Ok?”

“Ok babe! Talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up and you looked at her as you turned off the stove, eyebrow raised. 

“Riri?”

“Yea.” She says walking back over to you placing her arms back around your waist. 

“She sounds nice. You two together now?” You ask. 

“Why? Do you want me?” A glimmer in her eye and mischief on her face. Those words made your pussy quiver. 

“Shuri, don’t start.” You removed her arms from your waist. 

“I’ve already started sweet girl.” She stepped back licking her lips. 

“Dinners ready” You say trying to hide the effect she was having on your body.

She smiled and nodded. Eyeing you knowingly.

“Hm. Ok Y/n.”

  Your relationship with Shuri was….well… complicated. You see, Shuri and you were indeed only friends (much to Shuri’s dismay) because you were “straight”. Atleast, that’s what you’d told yourself all of your life. That is until you met Shuri. From the moment she’d entered your workstation in the lab of the outreach, she’d created thoughts in your mind you had never imagined experiencing before. Casually put, she confused the fuck out of you; and as time passed it only got worse. You’d insisted she keep her distance so that neither of you crossed any lines, figuring that would quell the desire. But, the longer the time apart, the more intense your want became. So, when you would see eachother, touches would linger, hugs got longer, turning into gentle caresses, and intimate forehead kisses; but never further than that. 

When she informed you of her budding romance with Riri Williams you’d thought you’d feel relieved, like you move on, but jealousy hid itself deep in the pits of your stomach; And that’s how you intended to keep it. You couldn’t have feelings for Shuri. You were straight and she was no experiment. She was human, and a damn good friend. You couldn’t loose her.

 Shuri called Zahir in to eat and then helped you set the table. You all sat down at the table to a dinner of steak, creamy potatoes, broccoli, and homemade rolls, like a happy little family. Moments like this made you fantasize about what it would really be like to be the Queens woman. Whenever she stepped into your home it felt as though everything was complete. Her and Zahs connection made your heart swell, watching them together gave you butterflies.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head over there? “ You were snapped out of your thoughts and met with Shuri’s curious gaze across the table from you. “Nothing really just zoned out a bit,” You lie. Zah giggled. “You said mommy’s head is pretty.” Shuri laughs with him. “It is a pretty cute head kid, you gotta admit. That’s where you get it from”

“You two are so childish” you say. “I am a child mommy.” You all laugh together.

 Once you all finish eating, you start clearing the table and preparing to wash dishes. “Alright Zah, it’s time to get your toys all put away so I can give you a bath.” “Aww, mommy I want to stay up and play with Shuri.” He says with his lip poked out. “No sir, you have school in the morning and Shuri will be leaving soon. All of your toys need to be up by the time I finish the dishes.” You told him sternly.

“I don’t wanna!” He screams at you, stomping his foot. Your brows furrowed as you walked up to Zah. “Little Boy-“ 

“Woah! Allllright little one.” Shuri said swooping in and picking him up, saving him from your wrath. “How about I stay? You go in the room and pick up your toys, let mommy give you a bath, and I’ll come in and hang out with you until you go to sleep. And in the morning I’ll be here to make my famous pancakes. How does that sound?” 

“Yes!” Zah shouts.

“Only if it’s ok with mommy, and you have to apologize to her and promise me you’ll never speak to her like that again. That wasn’t cool little guy.” Zah looked at her and nodded. “Ok I promise” Zah wiggled out of Shuri’s arms and walked over to you hugging your legs. “I’m sorry mommy. Can Shuri please stay?” They both look at you with puppy dog eyes and lips poked out. You look back and forth between them and let out a sigh.“Ok, Shuri can stay.” 

“Yes!” They both say, and give eachothers high fives. “Go before she changes her mind.”

Zah runs out of the kitchen at lightening speed. “Zah slow down!” You yell after him. Shuri looks at you with a grin like Cheshire Cat. “You two are gonna be the death of me. And how do you plan on explaining where you are to everyone? Where are the Dora?”

“Y/n, I am the Black Panther a security detail is hardly needed. I am also an adult. I can go and come as I please.” You look at her skeptically.

“Y/n it’s fine.” She said dismissively. “And I already came prepared to stay.” She said using her head to point towards the overnight bag on the floor in the living room. “Really Shuri.”

“Really, really. Now let me help you with the dishes.” You moved over and allowed her to help, knowing there was no point in saying ‘no’ to her. As you guys finish up the dishes, “Can’t get enough” by Tamia started to play over the speaker. “OOO I love this song! I learned the dance too. Come dance with me.”  She said as she turned up the speaker. 

“Oh now I gotta see this.”

“You doubting me?”

“Not at all Panther” You leaned back against the counter looking at her. Humor filled your eyes as you waited for her to dance. Shuri’s eyes lowered as she placed her bottom lip between her teeth with a smile, and began to dance. Just when you thought you couldn’t get anymore attracted to her, watching her smoothly get through the complicated line dance, made your stomach flutter. “Come on entle, don’t leave me hanging!” She says, stopping to sway her hips side to side and raise her arms up in front of her, making a come hither motion with both her hands. Your body floated over to her, grabbing her hands as you danced together laughing, having a blast until the song ended. 

“Ok, ok I see you, you smooth with it.”

“ I’m African, of course I am!” 

“Oooook conceited.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She says licking her lips. “If you know, you know right.” She walked up to you grabbing your hips. Pushing you back into the cabinets, looking you deep in your eyes, licking her lips. She was laying it on thick tonight and you weren’t sure how much longer it would be before you crumbled under the pressure. You pull away quickly. “I gotta get Zah ready for bed.” She stood smirking. “I’ll finish up in here.” She calls after you. It was gonna be a long night.

————————————————————————

You’d now gotten Zah all washed up and dressed for bed. Shuri sat beside his bed,after a game of hide n seek and reading him his millionth bedtime story. You were down stairs enjoying the quiet with a glass of wine and “Living Single”.

“Alright Zah Man, you gotta go to sleep little guy. You don’t want to be sleepy in the morning. You can’t be the smartest kid in the world if you don’t let your brain rest.” Shuri says. 

“Ok. But can I ask you a question?”

“One more and then its sleepy time. Promise?” She held out her pinky. Zah nodded. 

“Promise.” They locked pinky’s. 

“Now what’s up little one.”

“Shuri can you live with us? You make my mommy smile a lot and you’re the coolest! I wish you could be here forever.” Shuri looked at him a moment, gathering her thoughts trying to figure out what to say. She stood and walked over to lay back on the bed with him as they both looked at the ceiling. She sighed.

“ You know if I had it my way, you and your mommy would be in Wakanda with me. You are such a brilliant little boy. I’d be proud to have you in my lab teaching you all that I know. Maybe one day your mommy will let me take you. Hm? But, right now you have to be here in school, your mommy’s work is here, and I have to be in my Country. I’d love to be here more often, but I’m busy making sure the world is safe for you. I promise to see you and your mommy more often though. Ok?” Shuri looked over at Zah who was obviously fighting sleep now, his blinking slowing down. 

“ Ok.” He says in his sleepy little voice. “I love you Shuri.” Shuri picks him up and lays him on her chest, her eyes watering a bit. “I love you too, Zah.” She says rocking him to sleep.

————————————————————————

   Shuri lay a bit longer with Zah. The conversation they’d just had overtaking her thoughts. In all honesty, Shuri was taken with you. Had been the moment she’d laid eyes on you. She wanted nothing more than to come home to the both of you everyday. But, you were “straight”, so she respected your boundaries. It seemed that as time passed though, those boundaries became lax. Almost as though you felt the same. She’s tried to let this go, but it’d become so much more than a crush, and she couldn’t fathom that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Maybe she was setting herself up to be hurt, overthinking the signals. Either way, Shuri knew she was in love with you, and it felt like you loved her too. 

   She sighed, placing Zah gently on the bed and quietly making her way out of the room after placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. As she made her way to the living room, she stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at you as you sat brows furrowed in concentration, as you tapped away at your laptop. She took note of how effortlessly beautiful you were. How just the sight of you made her heart pick up in pace. How being here with you and Zah made her feel at home. She quietly walked down the stairs, sneakily walking up behind you, she placed her hands on your shoulders. “You work too hard.” She says as she began to massage the tention out of your shoulders. You let out a low moan at the pleasure of her touch. 

“Says the Scientist Queen Panther.” You look up at her and smile. Shuri lets out a chuckle, as your eyes close and your head lulls forward giving her better access to your tense neck and shoulders. She bent down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t forget masseuse.” You let out a hum, as she kissed you right bellow your ear. She stopped massaging and walked around the couch to stand in front of you.

 “Is there a deadline?” She asked referring the work you were doing. “No. Just staying ahead of the game.” “Good, you’re done for the night. Relax with me.” She removed the laptop from your lap, and placed it on your coffee table. Plopping down on the couch and grabbing your legs to place them on her lap, you bit your lip as you watched her beautiful, tattooed hands go to work on your feet. “So what’s been up here? Have you started seeing anyone yet? “

“Why do none of my friends beat around the bush. Right into it huh?”

“No point. Answer the question.” 

“No. I mean, I’ve been on a few dates. They were just… Shit.” You shrug nonchalantly.

“Hm” Shuri turned to look into your eyes as she massaged you.“ I just had quite an intresting conversation with Zah.” 

“Hm? Really? What about?” Your eyes started to close again. Her hands were like magic. You couldn’t help but wonder how they were in other a-. “He says I should move in with you guys” Your eyes snapped open, and her eyes were still locked on you. “He says I make you happier. Do I?” She says, she scoots down slouching more in her seat resting her head back on the couch, not taking her eyes off of you. Quite frankly, Shuri no longer wanted to pretend so here it goes. “ I-I enjoy when you’re around? Yes.”

She snickers “You enjoy when I’m around huh?” She turns her head away from you staring straight ahead a moment before turning her body toward you fully. “Y/n. I gotta be honest. I want to move forward with Riri. I really like her. And she likes me. Like really likes me. She’s beautiful, intelligent, she makes me laugh, she’s easy to talk too, and she knows what she wants. Everything I could ever want or need in a woman. I deserve that.” You remove your feet out of Shuri’s hands and off of her lap placing them underneath you. “You’re right. You do deserve that. So what’s stopping you?” Shuri stares as though she’s looking through you.

“That.” She points at your eyes wiggling her finger back and forth between each eye.

“What?” You say, following her finger before swatting it away in irritation.

“The jealousy in your eyes when I mention her. The little eye roll in the kitchen earlier. I saw it.”

“Shuri-“

“Y/n, how do you feel about me? And before you answer, you should know that I see you. The way you look at me. How your body reacts to my touch. You haven’t been able to have a serious relationship since we met eachother. It’s been years. So what I need is for you to be honest with yourself.” You look at Shuri trying to figure out what route to take. You could continue on with your silent crush, or you could lay it all out on the table. You sigh and choose the latter. You stand and began to pace. 

“Shuri, you mean the world to me. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before let alone a woman. It’s scary. These feelings I have for you..i-it’s crazy how you make me feel. Just a look from you could bring me to my knees Shuri. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you look at me and touch me, It’s all so overwhelming. I honestly don’t know what I feel  or why I’m feeling it, and feelings are involved. I don’t want to experiment with you to try and figure out whatever these feelings are and then I loose you completely. Fuck! I’m so confused.” You continued to pace avoiding eye contact with Shuri. Nervous tears streaming down your face. 

  Shuri gets up from the couch walking over to you, grabbing your face with both hands wiping at your tears, and pulling your body up against hers. Wrapping your arm around her waist with one hand, she grabs your chin and lifts it until your eyes meet hers with the other. 

“ You’ve never asked if I wanted to be used.” You looked up at her, your confusion apparent. “I don’t think you’re confused. I think you know exactly what you want and it scares the hell out of you. But, see we’re at an impasse here. I can’t move on because you and that little boy have my heart, and believe it or not, you can’t move forward because I have yours.” You try to look away and she turns your face right back to hers.

  “Let me take care of your body. Express to you how I feel physically, emotionally, spiritually. I can show you how it feels to be loved by a woman. And if you don’t want it after I’m done. I promise you’ll still have me as a friend.”

You look up at her, heart racing, terrified at what she was proposing. This could potentially complicate your friendship, or you could end up in a relationship with the intimidatingly beautiful Queen you called friend. Both were equally scary for you. But, with her standing infront of you offering up her body to the science of your chemistry, you couldn’t resist. You nod.

“Take care of me.” Shuri smiled and nodded. Slowly she leaned in capturing you lips in hers. Her hands began to massage you everywhere releasing your tension. You’re heart beat against your chest as you finally kissed the lips you’d dreamed about. You let out a shaky breath against her lips. This was so much better than a dream. You couldn’t have imagined the feeling of being in Shuri’s arms like this in your wildest dreams. The first brush of her lips against yours took your breath away. Now as you stood kissing her, your hands entangled in her curls, you felt your knees give way. Shuri felt it as well, Her strong arms tightening around you as she moved backward to the couch. 

She sat as you straddled her lap your lips never breaking contact. She placed her hands on your plump behind pressing you into her, signaling for you to move. You began to grind against her as her hands moved to your hips helping you as she rolled her body up into you. Shuri breaks the kiss, lust now pooling out of her eyes.

“ That right baby. Keep moving for me.” She slapped your ass. “Here’s how this is gonna go sphalaphala sam (my pretty one). I’m going to make love to you. Well. Very Well. I’m going to make your body feel things it’s never felt before. I’m going to fuck your mind, your heart, and this pretty little pussy all at once. This will feel spiritual. I’ll be gentle this time, but If at any point you want me to stop just say it, and I will. Do we have an understanding?” At this point your body was screaming for her. You were salivating and would do whatever she said. 

“Yes” You moaned, and Shuri smiled. 

“That’s my good girl. Keep going.” She leaned foreward and removed her shirt. 

“Look at you. So sexy in this tight ass set and those waist beads.” She eyes you with her hands still on your ass, still grinding into you as you rolled your hips onto her. “Nah you’re not confused mtuwam. You know exactly what you want huh beautiful?”  You opened your mouth but the words got stuck in your throat. You could only let out a soft “Ah”.  

“Awww, My sweet Y/n, you need me don’t you. Tell me what you need?” You were panting, rocking against her, pussy tingling from the friction. 

“I-I n-need you to t-touch me.” You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were here crossing a line with your friend that could change everything. But you were here now and there was no turning back. 

“ You sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes! Yes. Please Shuri” Looking into her eyes, you were now putty in her hands. She bit her lip, and raised her brow as though she was not convinced.

“Please baby. I n-need it so bad.” You whisper leaning in ghosting your lips over hers. You could feel heat seize your body as she smiled against your lips.

“Yea?” She whispered back. “I know baby.” She reached inbetween the two of you rubbing your pussy through your shorts. “She’s talking to me. Leaking through your shorts, so wet and warm. I can smell her. She’s calling out to her Panther.” She rubbed with a little more force as you continued to grind. “ You hear her..” She leaned up to your ear and whispered “Panther, Panther,” as she pressed into your pussy making it squelch.

“Fuck! Shuri please!”

“Shuri’s not here any more babygirl.”

“Ha uuuhn! Panther!”

“You learn fast sthandwa. Let’s take this to the bedroom hm?”

“Please”

  She picks you up carrying you to your master suit. Closing and locking the door behind you guys. Once you two exited this room nothing would be the same again. 

“Griot play my “Y/n” playlist” 

“Yes, Panther” 

You looked at her shocked as “Anywhere” by 112 began to play.

“You made a playlist?” 

“What can I say. I am always prepared” She grabs your hips and kisses you walking you over to the bed sitting you down. She breaks the kiss once again. Backing up,she begins removing her sports bra. “You see, the best part about being with a woman. Is the body.” She removed her sports bra. “The curves, so soft and supple.” Her voice so soft and  seductive drove you crazy, as you were now met with her pretty breast “Do you want to touch me Y/n?” You nod, mouth slightly ajar as you took in Shuri’s breast. 

“No, no sweet girl. Use your words”

“Yes, I want to touch you.” Shuri proceeded to walk up to you, still wearing her sweat pants, while her upper half was completely bare except for the gold chain that contrasted so beautifully against her mahogany skin. She grabs your hand placing it up against her soft yet toned stomach. She let out a sigh as you moved your hand upward. Up, up, up until you were cupping her breasts. Shuri bit her lip as you pinched her nipples. 

“Can I taste them?”

“You can do whatever you want babygirl.” You lift yourself up and catch her nipple in your mouth. Suckling like a new born cub. She throws her head back. “Mhm. That’s good my pretty girl.“ The taste of her skin in your mouth and the sound of the moans that came from her made your pussy pulse. You hum with her nipple still in your mouth. Shuri pulls on the band of her sweat pants. 

“Take these off for me Sthandwa, finish undressing me.” You happily oblige. Reaching forward pulling Shuri’s pants and underwear down at the same time. She giggles. “Eager hm?” She stepped out of her pants and laid back on the bed. “Strip for me, slowly, I’ve been waiting for this, and I want to savor every moment.” You got off of the bed slowly and began to seductively strip for Shuri, determined to put on a show for her; not knowing she had plans to put on a show of her own. She slowly opened her legs and began to play with her pussy, eyes never leaving you. “Watch me while I watch you” She moaned. You were placed in a trance. 

You let your shirt come up over your head, as she began rolling her body into her touch biting at her lips. Her soft moans driving your senses wild. The light layer of sweat building up on her begining to make her body glow in the moonlight. Her breast heaving up and down as she let out heavy breaths moaning your name. Her toned thighs spread wide for you, folds glistening, a stream of light hitting it perfectly putting her on display. She was all woman, and that excited you. Your shorts collect one last release of your want before being pulled down your thighs. 

“You knew what you were doing with those tight ass clothes and waist beads.” Shuri smirked. “Straight my ass. Look at you. Mouth and pussy drooling for me. There’s nothing like a woman huh? Ahhh!” Her head falls back in ecstasy as you stand there caressing your breast, and teasing your nipples; completely naked, physically, and emotionally. You were entranced in her pussy, your sight not leaving her drenched core. The sounds calling out to you. “Shit! I could cum just from how desperate you look right now. Is that you want intel? You want to watch me cum for you?”

You nod but quickly correct yourself “Yes. Yes Shuri I want to see you cum please.”

“No.” Your eyes glance up to meet hers. “Tell me pretty girl. Tell me to cum for you.” You look at her. You smirk feeling a bit bolder. You lick your lips. “Cum for me beautiful.” Your voice was low in octave filled with lust. Shuri’s eyes widened briefly at the sudden change, before you watched her stomach contract and her body began to shake, as her once methodical strokes became sporadic. “Oh B-bast! Y/n! I’m c-cumming for you! Uuuhhnn!”

  As you stood and watched her cum, you knew for sure you were hooked. You wanted to hear her scream your name like that all the time. The girly tones of her voice awakening  something inside of you. She was a woman.

“Come my love. Touch me, feel what you do to my body.” You walk over to the bed and hover over Shuri leaning down to kiss her lips, as you reached down and touched another woman for the first time. You moan into her mouth at the feel of her. Her slippery folds encasing your fingers. Meshing around them perfectly. “That’s all for you baby. Now let me show you what I can make your body do for me.” The look in her eyes was devious. As she sat up positioning your body to straddle her thigh. “Grind for me”You began to move your body against her. Shuri wanted to ignite all of your senses, so she grabbed your waist and brought you closer wrapping you in a hug, pressing her body up against yours completely. 

 The feeling of her bare breast pressed against you felt so erotic, as she held you close and placed kisses all over your chest. “Oh Shuri.” You moaned in a whisper. She handled you so gently moving her hands down to your plump ass massaging into it as she helped you get off on her thigh. It felt as though she was worshipping your body. She kept one hand wrapped around your body and the other she brought inbetween the two of you, finding your pussy she began to rub. “Ah fuck! Baby!”

“You like the way I take my time baby. No rush. I want you to feel good in places you never knew you could.” Before you knew it you were laying on your back as she kissed and sucked down your body, making her way toward your pussy. She held up your thighs caressing them as she prepared to dive into her meal.  She licked and sucked all around your pussy, before finally making contact with your clit. “Fuck Shuri!” 

“Mhmm” she moaned into you as she devoured you. 

“Oooo eat this pussy Panther!” She smacked the inside of your thigh. Then she wrapped her arms around both of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Devouring your pussy. “S-Shuri ha hooo my g-god!” You were very sure you were seeing heaven, and then she placed a finger inside. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head “M-more. P-please Shuri more!” You reached down grabbing her by her curls grinding against her face. She placed another finger inside of you, and you felt like you were floating. “OMG! Uhn! I’m gonna cum Panther!” Shuri said something but you’ll never know what it was between euphoria and her mouth being filled with pussy. 

  You came hard in her mouth, she continued eating, getting you all cleaned up. And then she kept going. “I want some more pretty girl. Can you give me more.” 

“Uhn! I d-don oh Sh sh pleasassee!! “ your words were failing you.

“Yea you can give me more.” She palms your ass. Getting back up on the bed laying on her back. “Come sit on my face. Drown me in that shit baby. Use me.” She opened her mouth wide sticking out her tounge ready to be your seat. You carefully lower yourself onto her face, but she grabs your thighs holding you down as she ravished you. You started moving your hips faster getting close to another orgasam. “Oh baby I’m gonna cum again! Fuck me Panther! Drink me!” Once again the band snapped and you were cumming, but this time liquid sprayed from your pussy as you squirted on Shuri’s face. She took it like a pro drinking you up.

“Good fucking girl! You’re my good girl huh Y/n. You taste so good.” She said as you fall to the bed trying to control the shaking from the after shocks. “You’re doing so good for me. You’re going to give me one more. Can you do that for me? Want to watch me cum on top of you? ” You look up at her tears falling from your eyes. You didn’t know if you could, but you’d damn sure try if you could see Shuri cum for you again. “Mhmm” is the only sound you could get out. Shuri understood loud and clear. 

Shuri sat up, grabbing your legs pushing them all the way back, she straddles you in a squat.  “As bad as I want to strap you until you’re unconscious, I want their to be no misunderstanding that it is a woman is fucking you like this” She begans to move against you, feet planted firmly on the bed, the muscles in her legs flexing. “Mmmm!” You let out a long groan from the overstimulation. “Shshsh. Don’t worry baby I got you.”  She slowly whined her body against you in a circular motion. You looked down at her, chin still covered in your cum, body glistening in sweat. “ Ahhhh! fuck” she moaned throwing her head back. You followed a large bead of sweat  that moved down from her long sexy neck, to her chest, down the valley of her breast, slowing at her waist that whined expertly above the backs of your thighs. It was femininity in all it’s beautiful, ethereal, glory. You snapped. “Oh My God Shuri! You’re so fucking sexy!” You reach and grab her waist moving underneath her as best you can. 

She looked down at you like a goddess on her throne. “ You never felt like this before?”

“I c-can’t t-take it. You’re d-driving me crazy. Please! I want you! I need you Shuri. I want to be yours! Please Let me be yours!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face, as you were full out crying now. The whole experience was overwhelming. 

“Nobody’s ever known your body like this b-baby? Uuhn! Made you c-cum s-so much? Knew exactly how touch you huh?”

“N-no, n-no, nobody baby! Nobody m-makes me feel like you Shuri! I’m gonna cum again for you!” Shuri fell to her knees, causing her pussy to grind harder against yours as she picked up the pace. “Oh Fuck! Go ahead b-baby let it go, I’m right behind you!” As if your body ran on her command you opened up the flood gates cumming into Shuri’s pussy, as she followed behind. 

“OH GOD SHURI! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU! I’m so in love with you.” You cried. She collapsed on top of you shaking and breathing hard from her intense orgasam. You both held onto eachother tight. You wrapped your legs around her waist as she nuzzled her face into your neck. You heard the sniffles before you felt tears dropping onto your neck. 

“I know sthandwa. I’m in love with you too”

[athenasparrow]

Update! @jilymicrofics

I am prepared for the hate 😈 I'd say come congratulate me on reaching 200 kudos for this fic, but I have a feeling something else will be on your mind by the end of this chapter 🙃

Lay All Your Love On Me | Rating: M

Chapter Twenty | Beginning

Prompt: glare Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know. 

The amber liquid in his glass swirls in a vortex as James stares – content to let his eyes linger – at the dark-haired witch as she runs a seductive hand down her target’s chest. She’s good; he barely catches the small tilt of her hand – and the palmed vial of clear liquid – that seals the wizard's fate.

It’s only a few minutes before she’s guiding the wizard to the back rooms the bar rents by the hour. He winds through the crowd as quickly as he can, only to be stopped by the slam of metal on wood as the clerk throws his flask down to squint at James. His skin is a peeling sallow, his eyes a pale lifeless blue.

“Room,” James says shortly, clunking down a few sickles.

“Where’s your whore?” Yellow teeth glint in the candlelight as cracked lips stretch into a ghoulish grin.

“Am I paying for an inquisition or a room?” James snaps, letting the tip of his wand slide from its holster.

“Room 4.” It’s the unfriendliest customer service voice James has ever heard in his life, but he snatches the key, swiftly rounding the corner towards his room. 

The hair on the back of his neck stands, but he’s not quick enough on the draw; the tip of a wand presses sharply into his ribs.

“Wand.” A tattooed hand extends, sharp purple nails glittering in the moonlight. The wand digs further into the crease between his ribs at his scoff. “Now.”

“You don’t want to do that, I –”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Potter.” 

He swivels to face her, the tip of her weapon jabbing unpleasantly into the softer part of his stomach. He ignores it. “You know who I am?” It’s not as silly of a question as it sounds; James is four transfigurations and two charms into a disguise.

“Guess you’re not as good as you think you are.” She shrugs carelessly. “Perhaps your wandwork needs some work.” Her blue eyes dip down past his waist suggestively. 

“My wandwork is just fine,” James bites out, glaring at her. 

���What do you want? Why are you here, following me?” James presses his lips together; he’s certainly not supposed to be here. “You’re the one holding me at wand point,” he deflects. “What do you want?”

He’s prepared for the hard push of her wand this time; it doesn’t sink far as he flexes. Annoyance flickers across her face – eyes narrowed and lips downturned – before the wand suddenly vanishes – he breathes out – only to reappear under his jaw where he has no muscles to protect him from the sharp pain to his throat. “I came to see how hard I can make you before I fuck you, Potter.”

She says it plainly, like it’s inevitable , but that doesn’t stop the guilt that grows ugly inside his chest as his cock twitches where she can feel it – close as she is now – against her thigh. How can he want to be here ? How can a morning spent buried inside searing warmth – green eyes gentle and red hair tousled from sleep – not be enough?

It should be, but it’s not.

He’s already straining against his trousers when his mouth follows his cock in turning traitor. 

“I’ll be doing the fucking Ella.”

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 451

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jungkook whispers against your cheek but it’s nothing like sweet nothings that would comfort you.

No. It’s dirty, it’s relentless when he hooks his fingers upwards against your spongey walls while his other hand clamps on your mouth to keep your gasps at bay. There’s nothing that you can do when he has your pleasure quite literally in the palm of his hands.

“Mmph.” You groan, hips bucking upwards despite your mind telling you that this was wrong, that you weren’t like this.

But Jungkook had a way of clouding your conscience and leading you to unmapped territories when he looks at you with his doe-eyes that looked nothing like innocence but more like trouble.

Jungkook’s absolutely brutal when he finger fucks your pussy until it's squelching within the bathroom walls, nearly overpowering the music from outside. You’re pathetically whining and moaning under him, back stained with sweat while he presses you against the sink. When he looks at you, it’s almost worth it.

Almost.

“This fucking pussy gets wet only for me, yeah?” He growls, eyes barring anomalistically when he releases his other hand from your mouth to grip your chin to look at him.

You can’t control the moan that you let out when he drags his fingertips across the spongey surface of your cunt, your hole fluttering around his long digits that hypnotised you every single time.

“J-Jungkook—” You gasp when he presses his thumb against your clit, your wetness lubricating the movement until your legs shudder around his hips while his eyes zero onto your pussy.

The way he revs up his spit at the back of his throat should’ve been disgusting and you should’ve run for the hills, but Jungkook had a way of making everything you were taught to avoid look appetising because a dollop of his slaver drops directly onto your clit and you feel your stomach clench.

“Fuck. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” He hisses, “Acting so prim and proper on the outside but you just wanna get fucked like a dirty little secret, huh?”

You shake your head when he pounds harder into you that your body is hiking up the sink with the force he’s exerting into shoving his fingers into your pussy. Tears of ecstasy or shame—you don’t know—but they’re accumulating at the edge of your eyes and threatening release, just like your orgasm that’s impending.

“You’re a liar.” He spits at you and it’s not as malicious as it should be because he’s smirking, a grin so menacing but addictive that you can’t help your dazed eyes that fall onto his face.

Your hand is gripping his shoulder while the other holds onto the sink because your pussy is spasming around his fingers and your wetness is everywhere. It’s on his jeans, fingers, and the remnants of your juice taint his lips—and you feel your stomach clench harder while your mind grows fuzzier.

“N-Not lying.” You whimper.

Jungkook scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “You’re a liar. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? What’s everyone going to think if they see you fucked out with just my fingers?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he leans down in one sudden motion that you can’t even catch up with and envelopes your throbbing bud into his mouth and sucks. Sucks so hard that you scream and you’re sure the partygoers know exactly what’s going on in the bathroom.

“Jungkook!” You scream, clutching his hair.

He chuckles darkly against your pussy but doesn’t relent his actions. The dark locks between your thighs make everything much harder to focus on, but all you can feel and see in Jungkook.

“N-No—I c-can’t—fuck!—” You’re not pushing him away but your hips are unconsciously grinding against his mouth when he finger fucks your pussy all while giving you the beautiful stimulation from his hot mouth.

“You’re going to cum for me and drench my face, yeah?” He mumbles into your pussy but it’s nothing short of demanding, “Gonna eat your fucking pussy clean.”

You’re so close, so so close and Jungkook feels it. He’s generous today, hooking his fingers deeper, and harder until—

“Fuck!” You scream.

Jungkook smirks against your pussy, knowing he’s found it. And Jungkook is someone who doesn’t stop when he knows he’s doing well, he just goes harder. That’s exactly what he does that pushes you over the edge.

He hooks his fingers until you’re nearly lifted off the sink, but his hand presses against your stomach to keep you still, prolonging the intense feeling of pleasure mixed with pain.

“J-Jungkook—f-fuck, I—can’t—p-please—I’m c-cumming—” You’re a blubbering mess and you’re outwardly crying, and Jungkook loves the tears that stream down your face as a result of his hard work on your pussy.

“Cum for me pretty.” He rubs your clit vigorously as he pulls away just to see you unravel.

And you do, so intensely and captivatingly that Jungkook nearly cums himself on the spot. But you were a sight to behold when your face contorts in pleasure, pussy clenching uncontrollably while you spurt the evidence of your orgasm all over the sink and onto Jungkook’s clothes.

Your orgasm is all too long and too short, but it’s good. It sends you away to a spiral of acute gratification that doesn’t disappoint. You barely make out Jungkook’s darkened but pleased expression when your body shudders from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

When you come down, and you blink your eyes to come back to the world—the first thing you see is Jungkook’s stained shirt like he spilled water on it but it was just the proof of your arousal and his effort.

Jungkook tugs you close to make sure you see the way he sticks his three fingers into his mouth, smirking at your wide eyes.

“Good girls taste the best.” He hums.

You blush despite the fact he’s seen the worst and best parts of you, hiding away from his keen gaze when he leans down to chase your lips.

“The p-party.” You mumble.

Jungkook scoffs with a wicked grin on his face, “Bet everyone heard how loud you get for me.”

You grimace at the thought of walking out there, where your friends and peers are after the session Jungkook put you through with the redness on your cheeks that could only allude to one thing.

And what you did with Jungkook comes crashing down onto you all at once, even if your stomach still flutters at the pleasure he’s given you. You weren’t like this. You didn’t follow men into bathrooms and let them stick their fingers into your pussy just so you could chase your high. You didn’t let men like Jungkook touch you the way he did when he squeezed your cheeks to look at him.

You broke all of the rules you made for yourself, compartmentalised in your brain—and you can only blame—

“Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes looking up to him and you’re sure he sees your dried tears, “This has to stop.”

For the second time of the night, Jungkook looks like he doesn’t believe you. And that’s probably because you don’t even believe yourself.

Jungkook smirks, “You say that every time it’s over but you’re the one looking for me when I’m gone.”

“I don’t look for you.” You frown.

He scoffs.

“You don’t? Then why would the esteemed _____ who sets the fucking curve all the damn time turn up at a house party where she doesn’t belong?”

You purse your lips and look away. You both knew that parties were not your thing and definitely not one where a bunch of drunk college students was involved.

“You know the only reason I’m here tonight is because of Jimin and Tae.” You snap.

He rolls his eyes before caging you into the sink, and you realise that your skirt is still lifted up—wetness sticking your thighs together in an uncomfortable way that makes you wince.

“And where are they now?” He sneers, looking at you in a mocking manner.

You clench your fists by your side and try to look brave in front of Jungkook. There was no reason why he had this effect on you when you were older than him when he used to worship the ground you walked on when you were children. Now that the tables were turned you had no clue how to navigate it.

“They’re—they’re …” You appeal helplessly, “Does it matter?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek in a way that you noted came from a childhood habit turned attractive, and you hate yourself even more for feeling your heart flutter.

“That’s what I thought.” Jungkook snorts.

He pushes himself off the sink and away from you, and you unconsciously find yourself chasing him. Jungkook notices this but chooses to just smirk at you. You try to glare at him and convince both of you that you didn’t want him, that you wouldn’t come back.

But when Jungkook cups your jaw with his right hand and brings his lips to yours before he leaves, you know that choice was never yours, to begin with.

Sana approaches you out of the blue after one of your lectures and you know something is up when her eyebrows are raised.

“Hey, ____!”

You turn around, nearly slamming into her when she steadies herself, eyes inquisitive with a knowing smile that you don’t like.

Sana was one of those people in college that you were friends with purely for convenience. She was in a few of your lectures and somehow always ended up in your group during projects; so it was strategic for you to maintain an amicable relationship with her.

You thought you could see yourself being good friends with her, but she was far too extroverted and involved in campus affairs. Not that was a bad thing—but it was bad for your social ineptness and lack of engagement in social settings. And the fact that wherever she went, gossip seemed to follow.

“Sana.” You greet with a small smile.

She nudges your shoulders before the two of you fall into similar steps as you make your way out of the lecture hall.

“How have you been?” You know it’s small talk and that she’s easing you in, which only settles the anxiety further at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve been busy.” You shrug, “Mid-terms are around the corner.”

She snorts, “By corner you mean two months down the road and you’re just being an overachiever?”

You blush at being called out and you know she meant no ill-intent. She laughs at your reaction while you offer her a sheepish smile in return.

“It’s always good to be prepared.”

She nods her head as the two of you approach the outdoor student lounge where a few other college kids were either dozing off or typing away on their laptops for last-minute assignments.

“So I heard …” Sana trails off and you sigh knowingly, already somewhat prepared.

“You heard …?” You parrot.

“You and Jeon are close, right?”

You stop in your tracks when you hear his name, as you feel her stop right behind you while you tuck your laptop to your chest.

“J-Jeon?”

Sana nods when you turn around to face her. You hope she isn’t as observant as you think she is because your face is undoubtedly red right now.

“Yeah. Jungkook.” She reaffirms.

“We’re … we grew up together.” You tell her, “With Jimin and Taehyung.”

You made sure to include your other two friends because you didn’t like where the conversation was going, and you needed to ensure there was some form of distance established between you and Jungkook, not wanting to further entangle yourself with him than you already are.

She raises an eyebrow, “So you’re close?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess you could say that. We went to the same high school so it was natural for our paths to cross.”

Sana nods her head slowly as if processing the information.

“Why—”

“But you’re older than him, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

You blink at her, then you nod. Redness on your cheeks already appearing.

“Yeah. B-But … I mean by only two years. It’s not like that’s a lot.” You say defensively.

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify that because there was no reason why Sana needed to know that you were just two years older than Jungkook. It was the type of information that was unnecessary and redundant given that she clearly pointed out the fact you were older.

Sana hums before looking at you with knowing eyes, but you try to pretend like you don’t see it.

“And you’ve never fooled around before?”

Her question makes you choke and causes heat to rapidly rush to your cheeks.

“What?” You cry, “Of course not!”

Sana looks at you dryly before schooling herself with a neutral smile.

“None at all?” She pries, “But he’s so hot?”

You roll your eyes, already wanting to leave the conversation, knowing it wasn’t the wisest decision to have allowed it to prolong this far after Jungkook’s name was brought up.

“He’s like a litter brother to me.” You snap.

You hate that you know you’re lying through your teeth because you would have not let a little brother do the things Jungkook has done to you.

Sana nods, sides of her lips twitching upwards at your answer.

You sigh, “What is this about?”

She waves you off.

“Just wanted to know if he was single.”

You raise an eyebrow, heart nearly stopping at the insinuation.

“Okay …?”

Sana smiles up at you like she wasn’t interrogating you on your apparent relationship with Jungkook, a young boy turned bad with the realism of college-hood and social interactions that you can’t even compare him to the boy you knew from high school; all awkward and limbs.

“My friend’s asking. You know Jennie?”

You almost turn pale. Because of course, you know Jennie because she’s beautiful, popular, outgoing and everything that you weren’t; and everything Jungkook should’ve liked—and you were sure he did.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter.

“She always thought you two were together so she never made her move. At least I can tell her that isn’t the case.” Sana chirps.

“Y-Yeah … you can.” You mumble, eyes looking away and the only thing plaguing your mind is the visual of Jennie and Jungkook together.

“But I always did try to tell her that she was in her head about the two of you.” Sana laughs.

You turn around, and your heart knows you should keep your mouth shut but you were always too curious for your own good.

“Oh?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Sana shrugs, “I mean. You’re top of the class, Ms. Student President and always put together. And not to say Jungkook isn’t but … he’s not exactly like you, you know?”

You know that. Because every time you look at old pictures of you and Jungkook you already felt the disparity, the clear-cut chase that he was at the top of the food chain while you were always left with the leftovers. You weren’t the type of girl that hung around Jungkook’s circle and he wasn’t the type of person you would hang out with.

The two of you weren’t young anymore and Jimin and Taehyung weren’t able to be that bridge between the both of you either. You and Jungkook were so drastically different and it scared you because you remember a time where you thought he was the endgame.

“I guess you’re right.” You say softly.

“Anyways. Sorry for bothering you!” Sana smiles before tugging her bag over her shoulder and offering you a small wave before she darts off in the other direction.

You’re left standing in the middle of the lounge with a heavier sense of dread on your shoulders, and the image of Jennie in your mind. She’s pretty. And you bet she’s nice too, but fun enough for Jungkook to want. Nothing like you.

But you shake your head off with the thoughts. You didn’t even deserve to think about this because Jungkook was never yours. Even if he tempts you with his words and his scalding touch, you were just someone familiar to him.

He didn’t want you.

You purse your lips and will yourself not to shed a tear in public, so you quickly turn on your heel to head towards the library; where the world is a lot quieter.

“Did you see this?” Jimin leans closer to shove his phone in front of your face.

You frown and ignore him, but he’s like an annoying brother who won’t budge when he waves the device even more.

“What?” You snap, eyes shut in irritation.

“Damn. Who pissed in your cereal?” Jimin mutters.

You roll your eyes and sigh, looking at him with a softer expression.

“Sorry.” You wince, “I just had a bad day and … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded it on you.”

Jimin smiles at you pitifully before turning to face you, placing his phone downwards on the table.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You think about what’s been bothering you and you can only think of Jungkook. How he pretended like he didn’t know you after he fingered you in the bathroom at a party. How Sana didn’t think you and Jungkook were possible. How Jennie was interested and she was gorgeous. How Jungkook would be too.

“Nah.” You wave him off, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Jimin eyes you sceptically but you rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You sure?”

You nod, before cocking your head to his phone.

“What did you want to show me?”

He blinks at his phone and then picks it up, already in a different mood when he opens his device to his Instagram page.

“Did you know Kook and Jennie were a thing?” Is the first thing you hear after Jimin shows you a video that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

It’s Jungkook—and Jennie.

But that’s not it.

They’re kissing, quite passionately and people are egging them on when Jungkook slips a leg between her thighs while he cradles her face against his own. You see people cheering and hollering when Jungkook slips his tongue into her mouth, and Jennie smiling against the kiss.

It was at the party. The party where he fingered you and kissed you on the lips before he proceeded to pretend like he didn’t know you and disappear.

You wonder how you missed all of that.

“______?” Jimin calls out to you.

You blink up at him before he looks at you with a confused yet concerned expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks.

You clear the lump in your throat, and your point is proven. They do look good together.

“I-I …” You mumble, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Jimin doesn’t believe you and he sets his phone down, but before he can say anything a new figure joins you at the table by slamming their stuff down.

When you look up, you see Jungkook—and it hurts so badly when you recognise his cocksure smirk with his eyes trained on your face.

“What are the two of you whispering about?” He snorts, settling into his seat.

Before Jimin can say anything, you push yourself up abruptly that startles both Jimin and Jungkook.

“I have to go.” You blurt.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, “Are you really okay—”

“Yes.” You say tightly, packing your belongings as quickly as you can without sparing Jungkook another glance.

“You’re not even going to say hi?” Jungkook asks, and if you were in a better headspace then you’d hear the slight irritation in his tone.

You purse your lips, but still, keep your eyes away from him. You don’t respond to him, and neither do you flatter Jimin’s concerned stare.

But before you can leave, Jimin grabs your wrist and your breath hitches, head-turning slowly to face him while you ignore Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Text me?” He says softly.

You knew from Jimin’s eyes that he’s worried, and you felt slightly guilty for leaving him behind like this when you promised him to study. But you couldn’t be around Jungkook right now. Not when your mind was everywhere and you were confused about everything.

Not when the video exists.

“I will.” You reply, equally as soft.

You tug your hands away and don’t spare Jungkook another glance before you’re rushing out of the library, the lump in your throat more apparent than ever.

[aminiatureworld]

Spotlight

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,707

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.

Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.

Albedo

Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.

You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.

The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.

“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”

“Only?”

“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”

“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.

“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.

Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.

Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”

Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.

“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.

“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.

Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.

This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.

Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.

Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.

 Kazuha

You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.

Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.

At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.

“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.

You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.

Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.

“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”

“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”

“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.

“Well you certainly are to me!”

Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.

At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.

“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.

Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.

After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.

“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”

“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”

“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”

“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”

Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.

Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.

“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”

“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”

Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.

Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.

To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.

Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.

“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.

Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.

“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”

Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?

You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.

Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.

All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.

 Xiao

Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.

Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.

“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.

“Playing the same piece as before?”

“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”

“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”

“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”

“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”

“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”

“…”

“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”

Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.

Fate, however, has a sense of humor.

To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.

“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.

“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”

It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.

Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.

Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.

To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.

Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.

So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.

“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.

“No, why would there be?”

“Because you’re staring at it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.

“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”

After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.

“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”

“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.

“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”

“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.

Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.

“Xiao?”

“Is this, too close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”

“I also like yours too.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.

Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.

So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Touch Starved

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Cursing, sfw fwb dynamic (lmao it’s secret hugging)

A/N:

*heavy breathing* I finally finished it!! I’ve had this request sitting in my inbox for literal months and I’m so sorry, anon, that you had to wait so long 😫. I hope you like what I came up with!

Also I ended up using she/her pronouns a bit towards the end, so if you’d like me to edit it so it has they/them I can repost it! Just let me know :)

-Sugar

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═══════ ∘♡༉∘ ═══════

● Bakugou's never been much for physical affection

● Or, at least, so he'd convinced himself

● Even around his family, he found himself shrinking back from hugs

● And anytime one of his friends would try to put an arm around him or pat him on the back, he'd flinch and tense up (Kirishima and Kaminari had a few special privileges, but even they were on thin fucking ice)

● A part of him craved that touch, wished it could last longer

● But his ego always got in the way

● From a young age, he'd viewed acts like this as showing weakness and vulnerability. It's no surprise that by the time he arrives at UA, the longing is a mostly ignorable dull throb

● Until he got to know you

● You were one of the most sickeningly sweet people Bakugou had ever seen, and he despised you

● You were just as bad as that Shitty Hair, if not worse; always grinning and trying to include everyone, even him

● He hated how his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own around you, never letting you leave their gaze when you were around him. He hated how your laugh made his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. And most of all, he hated when the tips of your fingers would brush against his arm, or when you tried to lean on his shoulder. You truly were the most intolerable of beings

● And it seems like you're even worse today

● Class was about to start and you were talking with Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari

● He honestly wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, that is, until he heard his name mentioned

● His red eyes flicked to you, since it had been your voice he'd heard say his name

● You had definitely been trying to get his attention. Now your gaze was directed at him

● "I've never seen you hug anyone, Bakugou," you said, your head tilted slightly as you addressed him

● "The hell does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled, already getting annoyed at the topic of conversation

● "Well, I read the other day that hugs can make you happier! And you always seem so grumpy all the time, so I was wondering if you just needed more hugs."

● You seemed oblivious to the way your classmates were staring at you. Even Bakugou couldn't bring himself to speak, merely glaring at you with a confused, almost offended expression

● Panicking at his lack of response, you bent down and threw your arms around his shoulders. You thought you heard a gasp from one or two of your classmates behind you

● Bakugou seemed to have no reaction other than mild shock. He just froze there, neither pushing you off nor reciprocating

● The whole thing was over within a few seconds, but it felt as though it had actually lasted much, much longer. Seconds after you pulled away, the bell rang for class to start, and everyone had to go back to their seats

● There was an abnormal silence in the class after that. It was as if nearly every student was thinking, Holy crap, (L/N) just hugged Bakugou freaking Katsuki

● Bakugou was weirdly silent too. It seemed as if he hadn't had any reaction at all

● Sike—it was pure chaos inside his head

● He's just been pounded with a whole slew of new feelings and emotions—give the boy a break (and a minute to process)

● He can scarcely pay attention during class (which he can afford to do, it's not like he doesn't already know most of this stuff)

● Katsuki can't tell if he hated it or not

● His immediate instinct is to reject it and say it was awful . . . but he can't deny that there's a teeny tiny part of his brain that wants you to do it again

● No one can ever know this, of course. He has a reputation to maintain, after all

● But in the safety of his own mind, he replays it over and over, trying to remember every detail of how your arms had felt around him for that brief moment

● Boy was hooked on you even more than he had been before

● But it's not like anyone can tell. Bakugou's good at that. No one would ever be able to tell he had any feelings towards the incident at all, negative or positive

● Even after his friends bombard him with questions after class, he gruffly brushes them all off. He acts so uninterestingly about it, they don't even bother asking him about it again

● Bakugou hopes that this will all blow over within the next few days. He'd surely stop thinking about you all the time, right? Maybe somehow, if he ignored these thoughts, his eyes wouldn't trail after you on their own accord, and his mind wouldn't jump at every opportunity to think about you

● For weeks, he told himself this, and time passed to nearly two months. He avoided you at all costs, refusing to speak to you or even make eye contact

● You felt horrible, blaming it on the dumb mistake you'd made to hug him that morning. No matter how hard you tried to approach him to apologize, he'd turn you away, and soon enough, you'd given up

● Until one night, he couldn't take it anymore

● He had just been fantasizing about that moment again, and tentatively wondering how it would feel to put his arms around you while he was out in the dorm hallway

● Even through the haze of his thoughts, he was quick to notice your head of hair about to turn into the hallway to your room

● You. Bubbly, bright, overly touchy and friendly you. Fuck you.

● You were always hugging everyone, right? You didn't really mean anything by it, right? It was no big deal when you hugged other people. So, maybe if he were to just ask . . .

● "Oi."

● You froze in your tracks. You'd caught sight of him in the hall, but you knew better than to try to attract his attention. He was dead set on avoiding you, and you'd pretty much accepted that by now

● Turning, you met his fiery red eyes for the first time in weeks. "Yeah?"

● There was something . . . apprehensive in his expression. You weren't sure if you'd ever seen anything like it on his face before

● "Get over here, I want to ask you something." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his glare to the carpet below him

● Uncertain of what might be going on, you cautiously made your way to him

● "What is it?" you asked, a little annoyed with how he'd been treating you lately

● "I, um, well—remember that thing you did a while ago?"

● You blinked at him, slowly. "I do a lot of things. You need to be more specific."

● You'd never seen him look so flustered. It was almost . . . cute

● "You—um, you hugged me. Remember?"

● Of course you remembered. That was what had made him hate you in the first place, right?

● You sighed and crossed your arms. "Look, I'm sorry I did that. I know it made you uncomfortable and I'm sorry it affected you so much. Really, I was just goofing around, and I'm sorry it got out of hand."

● He blinked at you. You were apologizing? Oh, maybe it did make sense, now that he thought about it. He had been being an ass to you

● "Is that what you wanted?" you asked. "I tried to apologize a long time ago but you wouldn't even look at me—"

● "Could you do it again?" he cut you off

● ". . . apologize?"

● "What?! No!" Bakugou's face reddened and he scanned the surroundings for a potential audience. He dropped his voice to a scarcely audible mumble. "I . . . —dammit, I want you to hug me again."

● You blinked at him, this time in surprise. You had, in fact, heard him, but you could barely believe it. You only knew that you'd understood him correctly by his posture, and how uncharacteristically flustered he was

● "You want another hug?"

● He scowled. "Don't make me say it twice."

● "So you liked it the first time?"

● "I never said that!"

● "Uh-huh."

● Even with your annoyed teasing, you felt as if you might be able to understand a little. Everything seemed to make more sense to you, and you were beginning to catch onto the bigger picture. He'd been embarrassed that he liked it, and that was why he'd been avoiding you

● "So do you want a hug now or—?"

● "Not where anyone could see!" Bakugou's eyes nervously darted around again. "We could . . . go in my room or something." His voice had dropped back to a mumble

● You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Secret hugs, huh? I didn't know I was in such high demand."

● "Shut up, dumbass. Just follow me."

● You do that, letting him lead you into his room. After he shuts the door behind you, you stand there awkwardly for a second

● "So . . . you just wanted a hug?"

● He shrugged. "Yeah."

● You closed the distance between you and took him into your arms

● He stiffened a little at the contact, heart pounding away in his chest. It was even better than he had remembered, and now he noticed even more things; like the way your chest felt pressed against his body, and how your hair smelled like shampoo, and—

● "Relax, idiot," you whispered beside his ear. Bakugou tried to let out some of the tension in his shoulders and even tried looping his own arms around you

● You snickered internally, until a thought struck you

● When you finally pulled away, you looked at him inquisitively. "When was the last time you hugged someone?" you asked. "Other than me."

● He frowned, still a little flustered. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. It's probably been a few years."

● You couldn't help but feel your heart pang a little bit for the boy. You knew how he felt about interacting with people. You'd seen how adverse he'd seemed towards physical interaction, even among his friends

●Touch starved, you thought. It was an awful thing to experience. Bakugou probably wasn't even aware of what he was missing

● You sighed. "We can do this again if you want," you offered, wondering if the proposition would set him off to ignore you again. "I won't tell anyone."

● "Better not," he muttered under his breath

● "Do you want me to come back or not?" you asked

● He shrugged. "S'whatever. Do whatever."

● You frowned right back at him. "Yes. Or no?"

● "Yes! Yes, come over here and hug me or whatever shit! Just—just leave now."

● You rolled your eyes at him, turning and twisting the doorknob. "Just ask when you're ready," you said before walking out of his room again

● Bakugou stared at the door for a long time after you'd left

● His chest felt like it had little explosions going off in it, and he couldn't help but feel ridiculously giddy

● What was he doing? But it had felt . . . amazing. And you'd offered to do it again, whenever he asked . . . .

● . . . You proved to stand by your word

● Sure enough, he'd catch you alone every few days and sneak off to his room for a quick hug. In return, he'd help you go over your notes for class

● Before long, you couldn't help but feel closer to Bakugou. Even with his harsh nature, you noticed how he could really be. Coupled with the moments of vulnerability he'd let you in on while you hugged in secret, your liking for the boy only grew

● And it did seem to have some effect on his mood. He wasn't so easily set off, and he yelled a bit less. Your fellow classmates didn't bring up the change, but they had certainly noticed it

● Even though no one was allowed to know about your shared moments together, Kirishima would often join you for a study session

● During those days, you'd wait until he left before going in to give Bakugou his hug

● Until the inevitable happened

● It was just you and Bakugou in his room. You'd gotten all your stuff packed up for the night and you were giving him one last hug

● He'd gotten better at it over the past couple of weeks, and he'd learned to relax more into your hold

● Of course, that was right when Kirishima came back in

● "Sorry, dude, I left my—" He froze at the sight before him

● Bakugou jumped back from you, trying to look as though it wasn't obvious what he'd just been doing

● "Sorry, guys!" he said, hovering in the doorway for a moment as he debated whether or not to grab whatever he'd forgotten before dashing back out. Ultimately he decided to go emptyhanded, slamming the door shut as he whisked back into his room

● You looked at Bakugou, trying to gauge how he'd taken this turn of events. He looked angry and flustered (a look on him you were starting to get used to), but he definitely could have looked more outraged

● You patted his back. "Are you okay?"

● The blond seemed speechless for once, unable to take his eyes off the door

● "It's just Kirishima," you assured him. "He'd get it. He's understanding."

● Bakugou wasn't so sure

● A few minutes after you left, there was another knock at Bakugou's door

● "What the hell do you want?"

● Kirishima poked his head in, making sure the coast was clear. "I just wanted my notebook back."

● Bakugou picked it up from his desk and launched it at Kirishima's head, which he barely managed to catch

● "Thanks, man." Even with his originally sought after item, the redhead proceeded to step into his friend's room. "So what's going on with you and (L/N)?"

● There it was, the question Bakugou knew was coming

● "Nothing." At least it wasn't a complete lie

● "No, you two were doing something," Kirishima smirked. "Are you dating in secret or something?"

● "What?! No! It's not like that! And besides, it's none of your fucking business."

● Kirishima shrugged. "That's fair. But if you're not dating, why was she hugging you?"

● Bakugou tched. "She hugs everyone, you know her."

● "Yeah, but you were hugging her back."

● "She just gives really nice hugs!"

● Kirishima pouted. "You never hug me."

● "That's because it's different!"

● "So does that mean you like her or something?"

● Bakugou froze for just a split second too long. "No."

● Kirishima gave him a look. "She might like you back. Just ask her out on a date."

● "I already said it wasn't like that—"

● Bakugou's friend shrugged. "Well, if it was . . . couldn't hurt to try."

● Once Kirishima was successfully kicked from Bakugou's room, he took a moment to think. Could he actually . . . like you? Maybe that would explain some of the things that he'd been feeling lately

● But what about you? Could you like him back?

● Bakugou rolled his shoulders. Of course you'd like him, what part of him wasn't perfect? But still . . . .

● One night a few days later, you were alone with Bakugou again in his room, doing homework together

● You couldn't help but notice that his vibe seemed off, and it looked like he was having trouble concentrating

● "Are you alright?" you finally asked him

● "Yeah," he snapped

● "You seem stressed," you commented.

● "I'm not fucking stressed," he said, refusing to meet your eyes as he glared at his notebook in front of him

● "Okay, then," you muttered, rolling your eyes to yourself and attempting to go back to your own notes

● You watched Bakugou fidget from the corner of your eye, but decided not to pay it any mind anymore. It wasn't long before you noticed that he hadn't turned a page in his book for the past several minutes

● Bakugou was, of course, internally raging

● Why couldn't he ask you a simple question? Did he even know what kind of question he wanted to ask, though?

●Go out on a date with me— too forward, it didn't sound right to him in his head

●For some reason, I think I might like you— no again, that wasn't right either

● His mind rolled over various phrasings, trying to figure out how to put his feelings to words. How was he supposed to do that?

● How could he iterate this weird burning mess he felt clawing in his chest every time he looked at you and touched you? How could he say that he wanted more than what you were doing? How was he supposed to get the reaction out of you that he wanted?

●Be fearless, he told himself. He'd faced worse than this before. He'd been through situations where his life had literally been on the line. How come you, of all people, made him feel more frightened than ever before? Why did he care about your opinion of him so goddamn much??

● He had to start somewhere. Maybe once he got going it would be easier

● "Oi," he said, straining to keep his voice steady and nonchalant as you looked up at his averted eyes

● "Yeah?"

● "I was . . . I was wondering if maybe you wanted to . . . study somewhere else sometime."

● You blinked at him. "Like . . . where?"

● He shrugged, just a bit too jerkily. "I don't know. There's this café a few blocks from campus."

● You squinted at him. "What's wrong with staying here?"

● He scowled, his eyes finally darting up to meet yours before dipping back down again. "I just wondered if we could maybe—do something together. Something a little different."

● A hint of realization dawned on you, causing a smile to alight on your lips and your eyebrow to quirk up. "Different like—a date? Are you asking me out on a date with you?"

● He shrugged again in the same manner, still scowling as he muttered, "Only if you want it to be."

● You considered for a moment. He was a decent enough guy. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you might say you'd developed a bit of a crush on him, actually. You'd never paid too much attention to it before, but now that he was asking . . . it couldn't hurt to try

● "Of course I'll go out with you," you said, breaking into an easy smile that Bakugou still wasn't certain if he adored or hated

● He immediately relaxed, a small smile of his own appearing on his face at your agreement

● He was glad it was you. You were the only person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around. He could already tell that he was growing to like you more and more with each passing day, and he could only hope that you felt the same

● You put up with him, and you were strong in your own way, and by goodness, he was beginning to fall for you so hard

● And maybe, if you agreed for him to be your boyfriend, you'd let him cuddle with you. It wouldn't be awkward, because that's what couples did. You'd be his and he'd be yours, and he wouldn't have to bottle up these annoying feelings anymore

● But that would be decided at some later time

● Even so, he couldn't wait for that day to come

═══════ ∘♡༉∘ ═══════

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @fourteenow @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @xoxopam4​​

[hford0311]

Welcome Back

*College age Peter Parker and Stark Reader-- 1.7K Words*

*Where Peter and Tony Stark's daughter meet up again at her welcome back party, and escape from the boring atmosphere*

"You know we're having a welcome home party for you tonight," Tony said as he leaned against your door frame. "Dad, you really don't have to. I mean it's not necessary." You replied and continued to put your stuff away in their proper locations. Tony scoffed, "You got straight As, and I never got a call from a hospital on your twenty-first birthday. You deserve it." You chuckled and rolled your eyes, "Okay, Dad...well, then can you at least tell me who's all coming to this party?" You questioned. Tony shrugged, "The usual crowd. Parker's going to be there too." You looked up from your boxes, "I forgot about Peter, is he balancing Spider-Man and college?" You respond. Your dad nodded, "Yeah, he's doing great. You guys should catch up tonight." You gave a quick laugh. "What? You should," he got defensive. "Dad, he never talked to me for more than ten minutes when I used to see him almost on a daily." You said then added, "I mean it's not like neither of us tried to talk to each other, it just never worked out like someone," you glanced up at Tony, "wants us to." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry that I want the two age appropriate people to be friends." You chuckled back at his remark. He looked around the room again, "Alright, well, I'll leave you to unpacking and see you later." You nodded and waved him away.

You sighed at the memories of Peter that filled your head. "Peter Parker, the son my dad never had, and apparently wants me to be just friends with," you spoke to yourself. You blew a raspberry and continued to unpack all of your belongings in your room.

***

You knew your father's welcome back parties. They were fancy, well most of your dad's party were. These party just had more of a focus on you; thus, you had to look nicer than the other parties.

Hair curled, make-up finished, you began to dress for your night. You saved the tight, off-shoulder maroon dress for a special occasion like this. You took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror one last time. "Alright, let's smile for the crowd." You told yourself and practiced your glamorous party smile for when your supposed to walk down the steps for everyone to look at you. It was the most main character action you have done ever since your sixteenth birthday party. Yes, sometimes it was unnecessary, but you did it all for your dad.

You repeated the same action you have years for now, never any less anxiety feeling with everyone's eyes on you after Tony announced your presence. However, you managed to do it all with grace. You waved to the adoring crowd with your royal wave and managed to walk down the steps in your high heels without effort. Your eyes kept meeting Peter Parker's along the way. It felt different than your first time when he came to one of your celebrations. He didn't quickly look away shyly, he kept looking at you this time. You tried to keep your eyes moving around the group of people while only having a few more steps to go, even though it felt like an eternity.

When you reach the floor, you took an invisible sigh of relief. Everyone seemed to form into their groups and continue conversing again. Your eyes caught Steve standing by himself at the bar. You shyly smiled and walked over to him. "You need to stop getting older," he smiled and hugged you. Steve always reflected on how much you grown physically and mentally from the time he has known you. It was comforting. Conversation was light. You knew most of them would be tonight with you, but you didn't mind. That's how your night mostly went. Walking around, or people walking up to you and talking. The conversations were incredibly repetitive. Apparently, when your in college there are three things people want to know: what you want to be after you graduate, where you want to move to, and if you are dating anyone. Boring and dull after the twenty-some time explaining.

You huffed after getting away from the pair of people you were talking to, now that you returned to the bar and made yourself a strong drink. Nat looked at you with raised eyebrows as you quickly drank it then made another one. "Having a good time, Y/n?" She questioned. You rolled your eyes, "If people could give me different questions to answer in conversation I might," you responded and took a sip of your drink. You noticed Tony wave you over while he stood by another group of people. You nodded and made your way over there. You were tempted to lie to away from the group. However, you didn't have to.

Peter tapped you on the shoulder. For once, you were truly delighted to see him. "Can I have a dance?" He questioned. You didn't even look at your father or anyone else in the group. "Please," You stated and started walking away with him, leaving your empty glass on a nearby surface. During the waltz, Peter talked to you, actually talked to you unlike most there. "I saw how bored you were, and I needed to save you." He stated as he led. You lightly chuckled, "Thank you for that. Are you getting the same questions too?" You responded. "Most likely," he said. You both joked about how dull the parties could become, and how really neither of you partied while you were in school. The two of you caught up and really got to know one another in the process.

At some point you caught the pair of you laughing as you never have before. You then gave him a curious look. "Peter," he raised his eyes as a response with anticipation for your words, "why have we never talked like this before," you lightly chuckled during the questioned. He shook his head, "I have no idea," he also laughed. It caught the attention of many others in the room. You looked around the room. "Looks like we're the life of the party," you smirked. "Well, the party is for you," Peter casually reminded you. You groaned and put your head on his shoulder, "What if I don't want it to be though?" He continued to sway back and forth, "Little late for that." You raised your head with a huff, "Don't remind me." Then, an idea popped in your head. You looked around the room and saw the attention diffused from the two of you.

"What do you say we get out of here," you questioned with excitement. He gave you an inquisitive look, "I don't think you can leave your own party." You shook your head, "Trust me, I've done it before. We just leave for about an hour and get away from all the noise." You reassured him. He agreed you and allowed you to lead him to a secret escape you had used for years now that led to the quiet upstairs.

You giggled as you led him in your room. "I can't believe I'm doing this, I mean Peter Parker is in my bedroom." You laughed and sat on the bed. "Not like I haven't been in here before, Y/n," he simply said, a little more sober than you. You scoffed, "Yeah, with my dad's permission you have, but you don't tonight." You watched him closely observe the details of your bedrooms. "You've changed," you pointed out. His head turned towards you, "W-what do you mean?" His voice in slight shock. You stood up next to him, very close, actually closer than the two of you when you were dancing. Your noses were almost touching.

"You're different," you stated and played with the end of his tie. "You're not that nervous and jittery kid that used to look away from me when we made eye contact." You explained. "Yeah, I guess I have," he exhaled. "Have I?" You looked up at him. "I-I mean, I guess, yeah," he cleared his throat and his cheeks changed to a tint of pink. "In a good way?" You softly spoke. Peter quickly nodded, "Y-yeah, I-I say so, Y/n. We've both grown up." You softly chuckled at his response. "Grown up," you repeated on an exhale, "I'd hate to do that. I want to stay just like this, you know what I mean?" You questioned. "I-I guess," he responded and placed his forehead on yours. "Be like Peter Pan," you breathed, "stay young forever with others that want to do the same." You softly kissed Peter at the end of your breathy sentence. His lips were soft. You melted into him, draping your arms around his neck to prevent you from falling. His arms wrapped around your waist. Both of your lips continued to unite together as did the rest of your bodies get closer.

"Eh-hem," Tony loudly cleared his throat to end the kiss. You drew away with a deep breath. The lovely moment taken away from your father. "Some guests want to see the guest of honor," Tony stated in stern tone. You looked into eyes, almost forgetting what he was talking about, "Um-yes, I'll -yeah- go down right away." You struggled to form the sentence before scattering back down the stairs. Tony gave Peter a questioning look, "Do I want to know to ask what happened?" He crossed his arms. Peter flattened his lips and shook his head. "Remember, Y/n is my daughter. So if she breaks, I break you." Tony stated. Peter nodded, continuing not to make eye contact. "So just don't break her," he said in more of a casual tone and uncrossed his arms. Peter looked up him with curiosity and confusion. "No, I'm not forbidding anything," Tony said with a light scoff. "I've just been waiting for it to happen." He added with a hint of a smile. Peter nervously smiled. "Just don't mess this up," Tony stated before walking back to the party, leaving Peter in shock from all of the events. "I just kissed Y/n Stark!"

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.��� Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 3 | And Miss Out on Mum Meeting the Girl You Married Without Telling Her? Not a Chance

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly finally gets to meet Luke and they try to convince him that this marriage is not some elaborate plot to manipulate the press.  And Tom makes a critical error.  We learn more about Molly and her past. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Tom regretted drinking two cups of espresso the next morning before heading to Luke’s. He definitely regretted not eating anything more than a piece of toast with butter and marmalade. Even after Molly offered to make something for him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you eggs, an omelette? I could probably manage some French toast before we have to leave.” Molly sipped her tea as she ate some oatmeal. 

French toast sounded divine at the moment as Tom’s stomach did somersaults. Molly’s knee bounced in the passenger seat on the way to the Prosper office. 

“Do you think Luke will yell at me?” Molly asked. “I don’t do well when people yell at me.”

Tom’s head snapped over at her. She sighed. 

“Foster parents are not always kind. Bio parents can be worse.” She wrung her hands. 

He reached over and squeezed Molly’s knee. “I promise I won’t let him yell at you.” 

“Thank you, Tom. Are we telling him the truth?” 

“Only if necessary.” 

“Then what are we telling him?” 

“That I went to Vegas, and I fell madly in love with you and on a whim we got married.”

“A fanciful tale.” Her head dropped to her chest. 

“Oh, I don’t know, darling. You sell yourself short. You’re bright, funny, caring and dare I even say easy on the eyes.”

Molly blushed. “Thank you. You are not so bad yourself. Although I seriously question your dietary habits.”

Tom chuckled. “I’ll work on it. And I hope after all of this we will be good friends.”

“Me too.” 

“Looks like we are here.” Tom parked the car on the street. He hustled around to open Molly’s door and help her out. “Time to face the firing squad.” Her eyes widened. “Kidding!”

By the time the meeting was done, Molly wished it had been a firing squad. 

-

“Luke, this is Molly Bishop, now Hiddleston.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist. “My wife.” 

“My condolences.” Luke shook Molly’s hand. 

Molly’s brow furrowed. “I…” 

“Of all the stupid shit you have ever fucking done—” Luke started in on Tom. 

“Luke, watch your tone.” Tom jabbed a finger in his publicist’s face. “You are not to yell at Molly.” His bright blue eyes flashed and his fists clenched. 

Luke took a step back. “Right. Take a seat and let’s see if we can straighten this out.” 

They sat next to each other. Molly reached for Tom’s hand and he took it. Luke sat down behind his desk, staring at the two of them. Luke pinched his nose hard and took several deep breaths. Before speaking, he poured a glass of water and dropped two Alka-Seltzer into the water. Molly stared at the whole thing. Tom leaned over. 

“For later. Luke says I give him indigestion.” he whispered.

“And headaches.” Luke added.

“I can understand the feeling.” Molly muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon!” Tom twisted around to face Molly. “Et tu. Is this about the vegetables?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat one every so often. You’re not 21 anymore.”

Tom gritted his teeth. “I said I would work on it. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“You’re the one who brought it up. I was just making a comment.”

Luke’s head bounced back and forth like watching a tennis match, a smirk growing on his face.

“You two are good. Really good. Damn Tom, the lengths you will go to… hiring an actress to pretend to be your wife, that’s—”

“We got married, Luke. In Vegas.” Tom retorted. “Darling, do you have the copy of the license?”

Molly grumbled. “I do, but we are not done with the whole diet thing.” She rummaged through her purse and produced the folded piece of paper. “Show him the photos.” She whispered to Tom as she handed over the license. 

“I’m not showing him the photos unless I have to.” Tom hissed.

“Show me the photos, Tom.” Luke beckoned him. 

Tom side eyed Molly and handed over the license and his phone. Luke glanced at the license and then scrolled through the photos, eyes growing wider. He zoomed in on one and squinted. 

“Is that a spider ring?” he asked.

“His name is Clive.” Tom deadpanned.

Luke cuts his eyes at Tom. “Of course, you named it. You wouldn’t happen to have the ring, would you?” He turned to Molly.

She let loose a breath, exasperated. “Honestly,” she jabbed a finger at Tom and then Luke. “I was not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.” She dug through her purse again. “You are both lucky that I planned ahead.” Molly slammed the two Tiffany boxes on the desk. “There, here is your pound of flesh.”

Luke opened the boxes and found the spider ring and plastic gem ring. His eyes went to their proper rings and then ran his hands through his hair. 

“Holy shit, you got married.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I have been saying that for the last 24 hours, mate. Can we move on?”

Molly giggled. 

“I… I… apologize. Sorry.” He sputtered, he turned to Molly. “I’m sorry, Molly. You have no idea the things this man has put me through.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hey! I—”

“Not talking to you, Tom.” Luke held up a hand. “I am talking to your bride. Clearly the reasonable one. Although she did marry you, so…”

Tom slumped in the chair. “Two of you. I thought you were on my side.”

Molly reached over and rubbed his arm. “I’m always on your side, honey.”

Tom smiled and leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, darling. Do you believe me now, Luke?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I do.” He slammed his hand on his desk, rattling his water. “Now let’s talk about these.” He held up several newspapers.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally ended the meeting. Tom was starving. Luke grilled Molly about her background. By the end of everything, Tom now knew that Molly spent the ages of 12-18 in foster care, went to college where she worked two jobs to make ends meet, and has no contact with her younger brother who was adopted. Tom felt a twinge of guilt listening to Molly tell her life story. He never really bothered to ask. 

Luke led them to the door but stopped short. 

“How did your mom take the news, Tom?” Luke asked. Tom froze and paled. Luke leaned in. “You did tell her?”

Molly glanced between them. “I thought you called her when we got home.”

Tom ran his hands through his hair. Little bits stuck up. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “I forgot. I was distracted by someone yelling at me.”

“You haven’t told your mother about us?!” Molly screeched. 

Luke chuckled, which soon turned into a full belly laugh. “You are so dead, Tom.” Molly gasped. “You will be fine, Molly, but pray for your husband. There is nothing scarier in this world than Diana Hiddleston mad at her only son.” 

Molly gulped. “I will keep that in mind. Now if you excuse us, we have some calls to make.” 

Tom nodded, still reeling from the fact he didn’t tell his mum, or his sisters, that he got married. Fake or not. He hoped she hadn’t seen any of the photos yet. But knowing Emma and Sarah, they sent her the links. “Right, calls.” 

Molly pushed Tom out of the office and towards the elevator. She waved bye to Luke as the doors closed. 

“That went better than expected.” Molly shifted her weight from side to side.

“Yeah, yeah!” Tom blinked and came back to reality. “You were brilliant. What made you think to bring the rings?”

“People have the tendency to believe you when you can present physical evidence. That, coupled with the photos, lends credibility. I mean, who gets married with a plastic spider ring?” She laughed and Tom joined in. 

“Genius, really. Luke would have never—” Tom’s stomach rumbled. He blushed. “You were right I should have eaten something.” 

Molly stretched to reach his cheek and gave him a quick peck. “You will soon learn I am always right. Let’s find you some food and then you call your mother.”

“Fine.”

-

They found a place for Tom to grab a sandwich since it was too late for breakfast and not quite time for lunch. Molly stared on as Tom inhaled the sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water. 

“Did you taste any of that?”

Tom glanced up at her as he poked the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes.” 

She shoved a napkin towards him. “You have crumbs on your face.”

Tom swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Call your mother.” 

Tom slouched. “Can’t we wait until we get home?” 

“No.” She stared him down. “If you don’t do it, I will.” Molly lunged for his phone, but Tom was too fast and grabbed it first.

“I’m calling her right now.” He held the phone to his ear, praying it would go to voicemail.

“Tom!” Diana’s warm voice filled his ear. “How are you doing, love?”

“Doing good. A bit of jet lag, I was in Vegas over the weekend.”

Diana hummed. “And how is Luke?”

Tom chuckled. “Angry at me as always.”

“If you would just listen to him…”

“I like her.” Molly popped in.

Tom waved her off. 

“I know, Mother. Listen,” He fidgeted with his hair again. Molly realized it was an absolute tell when Tom was nervous. “I was wondering if you might like to grab some lunch this week. We can catch up. So much as happened since I last saw you.”

“I would be delighted, Thomas. Why don’t you come up to the house? Does Wednesday work for you?”

Tom mouthed “Wednesday” to Molly, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Like I’m doing anything? You and Luke are the only people I know here.”

“Right.” He returned to the call. “Wednesday is perfect, mum. Noon?”

“It’s a date. Don’t forget to bring that wife of yours, Thomas. I am quite keen on meeting her.”

All the blood drained from Tom’s face. “I… I… can explain—”

“I’m sure you can. On Wednesday. I have to go, love. It was good to chat.” The line went dead.

Tom stared at the phone. “I’m so dead. She knows about you.”

“Oh, she knows. You are her son. And didn’t you mention having sisters? They totally ratted you out.” Molly smiled at him.

-

Tom had some appointments on Tuesday which kept his mind occupied from seeing his mother the next day. Molly took some time to figure out how to change her name, get a new passport, and figure out how to maneuver life in a foreign country. Tom took her to get a phone that would work. 

“Here you go.” 

The first thing she did was snap Tom to add to his contact list. He was laughing in the photo.

“Don’t use that one!” Tom pouted. “Let me pose.”

“But I like this one. It captures your essence.”

But now it is Wednesday morning. Tom woke up early to go for a run. Molly was already up, sipping tea in the living room.

“Can I join you?” she asked upon seeing Tom in workout gear.

“I run about three miles…”

“Sounds perfect. Give me two minutes.” She bounded off the couch towards her bedroom. 

Tom fiddled with his headphones until Molly emerged in sneakers and workout leggings. Over the ear headphones around her neck. 

“Ready to go.” She tucked her phone into a pocket. “I will just follow you.”

“Let me know if you need to turn around.” Tom winked as they set off.

They returned home about thirty minutes later.

“Sure you don’t want to go another mile?” Molly bounced on her feet. 

Tom breathed hard. “Maybe another time. I’m a bit out of shape. You run?”

Molly nodded. “Most days I run. If I get up in time. I miss the gym.”

Tom chuckled. “We need to get you a membership. And I need to ..get into shape myself. Can’t let my wife show me up in paparazzi photos.” he half-joked. 

Molly coughed. “They take photos of you running?!”

“Sometimes.” He took a sip of water, his heart rate going back to normal. “Definitely now with you in the picture.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, stepping towards him, grabbing the water bottle from him. “Think they are out there right now?” 

Tom glanced around and sure enough, he spied a few cameras with zoom lenses down the street.

“Yup.” 

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe we should give them a more scandalous photo.” 

Tom leaned down. “What did you have in mind?” he smirked as Molly tugged his head towards her and her lips crashed against his. She sighed and Tom slipped his tongue into her mouth. Molly did the same. As he fisted the back of her shirt, Tom noticed one of Molly’s arms moving. 

“AH!!” He screamed as the cold water poured down on his head and Molly jumped back laughing.

“I thought you needed a little cooling off.” she laughed.

Tom lunged for her with a smile on his face, droplets of water falling from his hair. 

“You’ll pay for that!” Tom gave chase, while Molly dashed into the house, screaming and laughing.

She made it as far as the living room before Tom’s long legs caught up with her.

“Got you!” 

Tom grabbed her by the waist to pull her towards him, but their feet slipped and they ended up on the couch. Tom on top of her. Their eyes locked for a moment before Tom scrambled to his feet. 

“I’ll get you all wet.” he commented nervously. “I should…”

“Right.” Molly nodded, sitting up. “I’ll make some breakfast. Eggs and toast. I don’t know what your mother is planning on for lunch.”

“A light breakfast would be best.” Tom shook out his now soaked t-shirt and Molly caught a glimpse of his abs. 

“No problem.” She smiled. 

They both headed off in different directions. When it was time to leave for Diana’s house, Molly fidgeted with her casual dress and knee-high boots.

“Do I look okay?” she glanced at Tom in jeans and a sweater. “I’m overdressed. Look at you, casually gorgeous. I’m going to change. I have nothing to wear. Nothing to wear…” Molly’s face broke down.

Tom wrapped his arms around her. “What’s going on, darling?” She buried her head in his sweater. “You didn’t freak out like this when we went to go see Luke.”

“That was business. This is your mother. I don’t do well with families, particularly mothers. What if she hates me?” 

He kissed the top of her head. “First off, you look beautiful. Second, if my mum hates anyone between the two of us, it will be me. She is going to love you, darling.” 

Molly sniffled and dabbed her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Really?”

“I am 100% certain. Now let’s get on the road.”

Molly smiled and nodded. The fear wasn’t gone, but she felt better knowing Tom would be there with her. That fear came rushing back as they stood on the front step of the house of Diana Hiddleston. Tom reached for Molly first. 

“I’ve got you, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek right as the door opened.

“Gross, Tom. And at Mum’s house no less.” Emma gagged.

Tom’s cheeks turned a bright pink. “Emma! I didn’t expect you to be here.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “What a surprise.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And miss out on Mum meeting the girl you married without telling her, not a chance.” Emma turned to Molly. “Emma.”

“Molly B… Hiddleston.” She smiled and extended her hand. Emma shook it with a firm grip.

“The papers didn’t give a name. She seems nice, Tom. Clearly she doesn’t know the real you.”

Tom continued to blush. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Em. Can we come in or are we eating on the front step?”

Emma held the door open wide and stepped aside. They stepped inside. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

As if on cue, Diana’s voice rang out. “Is that them, Emma?” 

“They just got here!” she yelled before turning back to them. “She’s been cooking all day.” 

Molly gulped. Tom squeezed her hand. An older woman with grey white shoulder length hair. She came up to Tom's shoulder, if that.

“You were supposed to tell me when they got here.” she scolded Emma.

“I was on my way to tell you.” 

“Go take the food out of the oven.”

“But…” Emma protested.

“Go, child. You’ll have the entire meal to listen to me yell. Right now I need a word with your brother.”

Emma pursed her lips as she walked into the kitchen but made a slashing throat gesture, mouthing the words “you’re so dead” at Tom before disappearing. 

Diana wiped her hands on her apron. “Now where is my new daughter-in-law?” 

Molly raised her hand. “That would be me. Molly, ma’am.”

Diana held open her arms and wrapped them around Molly tight. She realized where Tom got his hugging skills. 

“You are just a doll. Is my son treating you well?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“So polite and much shorter than the last one. Right at eye height for me.”

“Mother…”

Diana waved Tom off. “And please call me Diana or Mum or Mom. I promise I don’t bite.”

Molly giggled. “Yes, ma.. Diana.”

Diana hugged her again before spinning to face her son.

“Tom.” She crossed her arms.

“Mum.” Tom grew very interested in the rug on the floor. 

“Do I get a hug?” Diana smiled. 

Tom looked up and grinned. “Always.” The two of them hugged tight, Tom bending at the knees to wrap his arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Diana pulled back.

Her hand reached out and smacked Tom right upside the head. Tom cowered, covering his head.

“Mum!” he howled.

“You got married and didn’t tell me!”

“I was getting around to it. Luke distracted me!” Tom explained. 

Diana smacked his arm. “Do not blame Luke for this, he is a saint! You were keeping this lovely girl away from me.”

Molly beamed as Diana smacked Tom one more time. 

“You think I’m lovely?” she asked.

Diana turned to Molly. “Oh dear. You are perfectly charming. Unlike my wretch of a son.” Another smack to the chest.

“Really, Mum? In front of our guest?” Tom flinched.

“Molly is family.” Diana stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Now with that sorted, let’s go eat.” She spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen. 

Tom hooked his arm with Molly’s. “My mother.”

“I like her.” 

-

Emma and Diane pumped the two of them for every detail about this abbreviated courtship.

“A chapel in Vegas, Tom? Romantic.” Emma sneered.

“I thought so.” Molly added.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom leaned against her. 

“Awww.” Emma commented.

Diana stood to clear the dishes as Emma examined Molly’s ring.

“Let me help you.” Tom rose to help, taking the rest of the dishes. Diana grabbed his arm when they reached the sink.

“I really like her, Thomas. You did well.”

“Thank you. She is something.” Tom smiled.

“Much better than the last girl you brought home.”

Tom frowned. “Mum, I…”

Diana held up her hand. “I know. Don’t mention her. But I will say this. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with me.” 

“You never said anything to me.”

Diana smiled softly and cupped Tom’s cheek. “You seemed so in love and happy. And all I have ever wanted for all my kids is to be happy.”

“Oh.”

“But none of that matters. You have Molly now and the two of you have years of happiness ahead.” 

Tom glanced over to where Emma and Molly hunched over Emma’s phone. Tom’s heart twinged with guilt. 

“Right. Of course.” He smiled.

Molly burst out in laughter.

“What is so funny over there?” Tom called out, heading over to the table.

Emma giggled. “Just some old pictures.”

Tom’s face fell. “No, you didn’t…”

Molly giggled. “You were so skinny and that hair!” 

The two girls fell into a fit of giggles as Diane placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Yes, I like her very much.” she whispered. “Why don’t we pull out the old picture albums?”

Tom groaned. 

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.15

Stressed

01/16/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,747

Warnings: angst, jealousy, anxiety, talks of pregnancy, conception troubles

A/N: I’m sorry this came so late and that it’s taking me time to get these out. I’m writing very slowly right now and I only have my brain to blame. I’m finding it so hard to focus right now and I’m not sure why. I’ve gotten away from my usual habit of writing when I wake up and before I go to sleep. Hopefully, I’ll get back to normal soon. I hope y’all like (hate?) this chapter! Things will start to get tough from here on out. I hope y’all will stick with me through it. xoxo

“Well, I’ve got to get back to my girls. Some of them have taken to sneaking out at night in an attempt to earn their wings. If I catch them, I get to make them do whatever I want and I’m not going to lie, it’s the best part of my day.”

Hilde smiles at you, and you try to give her a returning social exchange with the same energy but your mind and eyes keep drifting back to the astronomer across the room currently chatting with Bruce and Tony animatedly about something scientific that you don’t understand.

“Are you seriously stressing about her?” Hilde asks, exasperated with you already.

“No,” you answer with your feathers obviously ruffled. “I’m not.”

Hilde clearly doesn’t believe you as she skews her lips and tilts her head.

“I’m not!”

You say it too loudly and the trio on the other side of the table turn to look at you.

“Not what?” Tony asks, brow furrowed a little with curiosity.

“She’s not tired,” Hilde covers. “How about a tour from Her Majesty?”

“Uh, yeah, I can give you all a tour of the palace. It’s really big.”

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “No tour for me. As fun as following you around while you brag about how much bigger your house is than mine sounds, I just spent weeks in the trenches and I’m going to try and get some sleep or Pepper will ground me and won’t let me come out and play. So, I think, good night?”

“Right. Of course, yeah. Estrid?” You call out to the two large open doors.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Estrid hurries into view, giving you a quick curtsy before standing with her hands at her front.

“Can you show Mr. Stark-”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous.

“Sorry, habit,” you laugh nervously. “Can you show Tony to his room, please? And Bruce?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d love some sleep,” he nods, rubbing his chest with one hand in slow circles.

“And Bruce as well,” you nod to Estrid who gives you another curtsy.

They all begin to stand, shoving their chairs back in under the table and taking a last drink.

“And…” with odd trepidation, you look at your husband’s very recent former lover and try not to feel too overwhelmed. “Jane?”

“No, actually I was hoping I could speak with you?”

She takes a step towards you, hands pulled to her front as she fidgets with the tips of her fingers for a second then drops them at her sides.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you, Estrid. When you’ve escorted the gentlemen to their rooms, come find me so that you can show Jane hers when she’s ready.”

“Very good, Your Majesty,” Estrid nods, another curtsy before she turns to Bruce and Tony who now look nervous too as they give you and then Jane inquisitive looks. “This way, gentlemen.”

As Estrid disappears into the hallway, Tony and Bruce follow slowly leaving you, Hilde, and Jane to stand awkwardly in the smaller of the two dining rooms in the palace.

“Should I stay?” Hilde wonders, inching a little closer to you and reaching out to grab your elbow.

“Hm? No. It’s okay. But if you’re going-?”

“Your Majesty,” Heimdall’s warm voice fills the space strangely washing over you with a soothing calm.

Something about Heimdall always makes you feel at ease and the night suddenly seems very bearable.

“Heimdall will be taking over your care until Thor returns, is that alright?” Hilde checks, sounding genuinely worried.

“Will I do, Your Majesty?” Heimdall asks, his voice a gentle teasing.

“Of course, Heimdall!” your huff of a laugh pulls from him a gentle chuckle and he moves around towards you to draw your hand up to his lips.

It’s a genuine sign of respect and it warms your heart.

“Alright, well, I’m off. I will see you tomorrow, Your Majesty. Jane.” Hilde gives her a nod and quickly slides from the room eager to catch her troops out of bed.

Heimdall makes his way towards Jane and as she turns to him, she smiles wide, “Heimdall, it’s so nice to see you again.”

“Jane Foster,” he says her name in full though it doesn’t sound as if he’s being formal.

In fact, they sound pretty close.

“It has been quite a while.” They hug and your heart gives a strange uncertain clench. “How are you?”

“I’m good, all things considered,” Jane says.

All things considered? What things considered?

“Yes, well…” Heimdall leaves his words hanging there, full of meaning that you don’t understand and suddenly the warmth his greeting had left you with is gone and in its place is a sense of intrusion.

Jane was the Queen they had all been expecting. Suddenly feeling dismal, you turn away from their reunion to fill up your fancy silver cup with wine and take a nice long drink.

Without turning back around to look at her because in the moment you can’t really bear it, you address her and hope that your voice doesn’t give you away.

“What was it that you wanted to speak to me about, Jane?”

Hopefully it has nothing to do with Thor or you might just lose your head a little. While a part of you would very much like to bury the hatchet and put everything that happened with her and Thor in the past behind you, in this moment, the last thing you want to do is talk about how she is or was the love of his life.

That you know, right?

This is all so fucked.

“I was actually just wondering if you had a space that I could set up my equipment? Somewhere with clear access to the sky is preferable, and lots of space? I’ll need to set up my equipment to show Thor--and yourself what I’ve been seeing the last few months.”

You can hear it in her voice that she added you as an afterthought. She came to show Thor. To see him?

You hate this sudden insecurity growing inside of you, this second guessing that didn’t even exist until she walked into your home tonight.

Are you thinking too much? Is this wrong of you? Thor is your husband. He loves you. He says it every day. Several times a day because he knows you need to hear it. He physically shows you, also several times a day if he can. Just today, in the hallway downstairs…

“Your Majesty?” Heimdall prompts, pulling you from your thoughts.

You dismiss his concern without acknowledging it because it’s in his all-seeing eyes. Instead, you focus on Jane.

“I have the perfect space. It’s a bit of a walk. I mean, it’s still on palace grounds, just a bit further up the hill behind us. But it’s an observation tower Loki was having built probably for this exact reason.”

“Perfect,” she smiles, then moves to her chair to pick up a large brown bag you hadn’t noticed she’d brought in here with her. “After you?”

Heimdall follows behind the two of you and Jane follows a step behind as you lead her out of the palace back entrance which is hidden behind a smaller room behind the throne room.

The night is chilly and you wrap your arms around yourself and regret the shorter choice of dress.

Jane also seems to shiver for a moment but her own clothes are more tailored to the weather outside than yours is. Her shiver passes.

“Do you enjoy living here?” she asks.

For a moment you don’t realize she’s talking to you, then when no one else answers, you start and quickly clear your throat.

“Yes, I do. I mean, it’s cold a lot. I’ll be glad when Summer’s here. Spring is also kind of on the chillier side.”

“Yeah,” she smiles, as if she’s been here often.

The silence after her affirmation grows tense and your heart begins to pound as your mind goes into a flurry of what she might have gotten up to here in New Asgard before you’d come into the picture.

Warmth suddenly envelops you and you turn to look at Heimdall as he places his dark cloak over your shoulders.

“Thank you, Heimdall,” you gasp, reaching up to pull the cloak around yourself more tightly.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Heimdall nods, “It’s my honor.”

The terrain suddenly grows more rugged and Heimdall is quick to offer you his arm as you adjust your steps to accommodate the rockier path.

You make a mental note to have this pathway fixed. Smoothed out and maybe even given a railing as it gets steeper.

The only thing you can hear is the sound of three pairs of feet trudging along shifting stone and dirt then a softer step as the hill evens out a bit more and becomes covered in grass.

When you don’t have to look down at where you’re stepping anymore, you look up at the tower that looms ahead.

The base is made of heavy stone, each placed with precision and reinforced with steel supports. Wooden beams line each of the corners, decorated with carved images of what you can only assume are Asgardian moments in history.

When you’d come to see its progress at the beginning of its creation, you’d recognized the images of Thor and Odin in battle just above the beam that lines the doorway.

The rest of the tower is a mix of wood, stone, and iron. The aesthetic is very much like the palace, Asgardian curves and shapes fit into more modern Norse lines.

The three of you stop as you reach it and Heimdall hurries forward to throw the large door open.

As you step through, you see that the inside of the tower has not changed much since the last time you came to inspect it.

The bottom floor is a large empty room with only a fireplace against the back wall, exposed rafters up above before the height is cut short by the ceiling.

“Wow,” Jane does sound impressed, “This is great. Is there a-?”

“Upstairs,” you point towards the staircase to the right that rises up around the side of the room. “There’s another room, smaller, but it has a lot of balcony space.”

“Great! Thanks,” she sighs with relief as if she really didn’t expect you to give her some space to work, then heads towards the staircase.

“Um, there’s no furniture in here yet. I’ll have someone bring you some tables and chairs, is there anything more specific that you need?”

Jane stops at the foot of the stairs then turns to look at you and then the space of the bottom floor.

“Would it be possible to get a bed in here? You’re right, and it is a long way from the palace. I’m gonna be in here probably all the time so…?”

You know that she isn’t asking for the impossible or anything out of the question, but suddenly the idea of making this tower her little space has a whole other life playing out in your head.

A life where you had married Thor and he had been unable to give up Jane. A life of her living here at the palace with you in her own space where Thor can come and be with her in private away from prying eyes while still giving the appearance of being with you, his Queen in name only.

“Your Majesty?” Heimdall prompts you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow again and pull you from the pain and panic you’re trying to hide.

You force a smile, a small shake of your head, “Yes, of course. Sorry, I’ve had a busy day. I’ll have them bring you everything you need within the hour.”

“Thank you. Once I have everything set up I’ll make sure to show you what I’ve found and then Thor can um, plan for what might come?”

“Of course,” you agree, eager to get the hell out of here and back to your room where you can fall apart in private. “Now, I hope you’ll excuse my bad hosting skills, but I really am super tired and I think I’m going to turn in a little early.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! No problem at all,” Jane smiles, “Thank you for all your help. And dinner! Dinner was so good. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. I’ll let Cook know,” you nod, hoping that your smile isn’t too tense for the moment. “Good night.”

“Night!”

You’re almost grateful for the cold night air as it bites the skin of your cheeks. Anything is better than the stress you just felt in that tower.

You hear the heavy door of the tower close behind you, then Heimdall’s footsteps join your own though your heavy breathing is alone as he walks calmly beside you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Heimdall wonders, gentle and honestly concerned.

“I’m fine,” You lie.

“Does having Jane Foster here bother you? There is no need for you to worry. I have seen Thor be with many women-”

“Oh, my God,” and you can’t help but huff a laugh. “Not helping, Heimdall.”

“-and I have never seen him be with anyone the way he is with you. It’s more than just love. It's a partnership. Companionship. It’s friendship. Trust. After their initial reconnection, Thor’s trust in Jane and their courtship dwindled and as you know, by the end, it was completely gone.”

“So, what you’re saying is he’s so sure that I love him that he has no reason to worry?”

Which is true, you do and he has no reason to worry about you not loving him or falling for someone else at this point. You can’t even imagine being with anyone the way you’ve been with Thor.

“He’s not afraid to lose me?” You hate giving into these thoughts.

Honestly though, talking about them to someone will help you sleep tonight. Maybe.

“Yes,” Heimdall agrees. “And no. Even now, this very moment, all he can think of is you.”

You stop walking, stunned by his words because you’ve never asked him to look for you. You’ve heard Thor ask him to see things before, to search, and Heimdall always has. It had never crossed your mind to do the same.

Then again, this is the first time you and Thor have been apart since before you were married.

“What-You can see him?” Heimdall looks down at your feet, focuses what must be his mental eyes, and then slowly nods.

“He’s distressed at leaving you here alone, he’s finding it hard to focus on what Fandral is telling him and Fandral is growing more and more upset.”

You smile, completely absorbed by this information.

“Did he ever ask you to look for her? For Jane?”

Your words are quiet, hesitant, though your heart feels slightly more at ease by Heimdall’s reassurance.

“In the very beginning of their courtship, just after he left Earth and the bifrost was destroyed. Their love was new then. It was short-lived. Then Thor came back to Earth and they were able to be together, for a time.

“But their compatibility has always had its trials. After some time together, Thor was called back to the Universe and Jane had her own work to do. Their responsibilities have always pulled them apart and if I’m honest, Thor is the more hopeless romantic between them.”

You think about all of the small things that Thor has done for you since you came back home. The flowers, the baths, surprise dinners, the small presents hidden under your pillow or in drawers he knows you’ll get into. He’s done a lot more to show you he’s thinking about you during the day than you have and you can understand what Heimdall is saying.

You’re not so much a gift giver in love it seems, and instead give him all of the affection he’d seemed so starved for in the beginning.

“Her being here will not damage your marriage. Trust me.” Heimdall finishes.

You lead the walk again, moving slower but calmer after Heimdall’s reassurance.

“Will you come back up and check that Jane gets everything she needs? We really should have had the tower set up a long time ago.”

“As soon as I am certain you are in your quarters safe, with a guard outside your door, yes. I can ensure that she has everything that she requires.”

For a few minutes you walk in silence, at ease. When you reach the back doors of the palace however and he holds the doors open for you, you turn to Heimdall and after a quick bite to your lip, “Is he still with Fandral?”

Heimdall smiles and nods, “Fandral is yelling at him for not paying attention.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s so early when you wake. It’s still dark outside and you’re almost sure that sunrise is still a few hours away.

You’re exhausted. Eyes burning as you push yourself up and the night plays itself over.

So suddenly you’re anxious again, nerves making your fingertips tingle and your stomach do an uncomfortable flip as you turn over onto your back to look at Thor’s side of the bed.

It’s undisturbed. Both pillows are still in their made up position.

He said he’d be back very late at night, early morning at the latest. You’d been hoping for the former.

With a groan, you sit up, sliding slowly down to the end of the bed and the bench where Thor sits to put his boots on.

You’re so groggy. The night was restless and you’ve really only gotten about an hour of sleep. Two at the most.

It’s stuffy in the room, the fire still burning and leaving you a little sticky from being huddled underneath a heavy blanket because you’d missed the weight of Thor’s arms all night.

The large glass doors across from you rattle from the wintry breeze outside, beckoning you forward for relief from this heat.

As you step on the floor, your body is rocked with a shiver that pushes you up onto your toes. As fancy as this palace is, you’ll have to ask Thor if it’s possible to get some heated floors installed.

Moving as quickly as you can, you don’t stop until you’re at the doors and then thrust them open and absolutely inhale the frigid late night air.

You scan the distant ocean as it spreads into the horizon, the sky it touches still an inky black with a breathtaking scattering of stars.

You can hear the Valkyrie below in their barracks and training grounds already working hard to get into shape. Hilde must have really caught them sneaking out.

Heimdall should be waiting close by. You really want to see if he has news about Thor’s schedule and if maybe he’s on his way home and just running late.

As you turn to walk back into the room, you freeze as your eyes scan the tower you’d set Jane up in.

From this angle you have a clear view of the balcony. She’s already set up her equipment. You didn’t know that you could see this well into the tower.

It’s all lit up like a beacon in the dark.

It’s an unpleasant reminder that she’s here and you make a mental note to keep the curtains drawn when you know she’s up there. Which you realize that unfortunately, will probably mean all the time.

Sighing, you move towards the door but then freeze again as Thor moves from the balcony doorway towards a large telescope attached to what looks like heavily modified computers.

He’s still in uniform, smiling. Behind him, Jane follows, arms wrapped around herself before she stops too close to Thor for your liking.

She rushes around him and looks through the eyepiece. You can see her talking away, mouth moving at the speed of light as she explains something to him, her hands flying around her as she talks, apparently the cold is forgotten.

She pulls away from the telescope as Thor chuckles then moves back inside out of sight as Thor sidles up to the eyepiece but doesn’t touch it yet.

The telescope moves, clearly Jane adjusting it from inside where she must have set up her computer equipment.

Thor takes a step back then the telescope stops and Jane flutters back out onto the balcony and gestures for Thor to look through.

He does, Jane moves in beside him, saying something that must be a whisper if she’s standing that close. He says something back.

The two of them having a pleasant conversation.

The clench in your chest feels choking.

Thor pulls back from the eyepiece and turns to look at her.

He’s too far away for you to see his expression, too small. But their faces are so close and he doesn’t pull away.

You sink back into your room, terrified to see something that will ruin the perfect bliss you’ve been in these first three months of your marriage.

Not that it isn’t already ruined. You’ve been a mess since Jane showed her face and now with what you just saw, how can you feel anything but lousy?

You don’t do what you want to do. You don’t slink back into bed and hide under the covers to wallow.

Instead you move to your closet and look for a dignified dress. Something that you can wear that will scream Queen of New Asgard but also be relaxed enough for you to work in.

You choose something with a simple cut. Long sleeves, a deep V in the front, with a loose flowing skirt but a tight bodice to match the equally tight sleeves. The color is an iridescent black that shimmers in teal and startling pink.

The color reminds you of the northern lights with a splash of the hazy pink in the orion nebula. It’s beautiful and otherworldly, and it screams Queen of Asgard in casual formal.

With the dress you move back into the room and hang it on the small stand in front of the full length mirror by your vanity before grabbing some new underwear and moving into the bath.

You ignore the large tub you and Thor have spent hours upon hours in and quickly shower instead. You emerge fresh and clean, though not exactly refreshed.

You’re stepping out of the shower when your bedroom doors open and you freeze, staring at them as they swing forward with your hands pressed to the top of your towel holding it shut.

Your heart drops when Estrid smiles prettily at you, turning around to close the doors as she greets you.

“Good morning, Your Majesty, did you sleep well?” She moves straight for your vanity to pull out the brush, pins, and makeup she usually uses on you in the morning.

She’s in here much earlier than normal and she can’t have gotten that much sleep herself. She’s so attuned to you now that you’re worried for her but also grateful.

“Good morning, Estrid,” you reply, refusing to answer her question because she’d only worry. “Did Ms. Foster get all of the things she needed in the tower?”

“Yes, m’am. Heimdall made sure that she had everything she would need for her research before he retired to stand guard at your door.”

You have an endless stream of questions about Thor in your head, things you want to ask Estrid but you bite your tongue as Estrid helps you on with your dress then sits you down at your vanity to dry your hair and work on today’s set of braids.

Time passes as she works. Time that feels like seconds to you as your mind works hard to try and reassure your heart that you have nothing to worry about, and yet, it still aches.

“You’re very quiet this morning, Your Majesty,” she observes.

“Yeah. I don’t really feel like talking unless I have to.”

“Very well, Your Majesty,” she accepts, but then after a few minutes of silence. “Are you not feeling well? Shall I send for the doctor?”

“No, Estrid. I’m not sick. I’m-shit, what’s the date today?”

Reaching around, you look for your phone to check the date.

“‘Tis the fifteenth, Your Majesty,” Estrid informs you.

“Did you forget about me already?” A deep smooth voice slides in from your doorway and you turn in search of the comfort the tone gives you.

“David!”

On your feet and across the room, David greets you with open arms. A small firm hug is what he gives you before kissing the side of your head and then pushing you back to look at you.

His eyes linger on your stomach for a moment before he frowns playfully.

“Nothing yet? I guess we’ll find out today if we’re to expect anything in the next month.”

“No pressure,” you reply sarcastically.

David chuckles, his fancy four piece navy suit a display of his busy nature. As much as he wants to visit, you know that he’s busier now with so many people wanting his services. The prestige of being the Queen of New Asgard’s lawyer has brought him a windfall.

Not that he needs it, but he appreciates the work.

“I did forget we had a testing today. Something happened yesterday.”

Your voice filters into a whisper at the end, though you’re not even aware of it.

David matches your energy, though he doesn’t whisper, he recognizes your stress and concern saturates his entire person.

“What’s happened?”

“I-” You look towards Estrid, and she’s so good that she’s cleaning your vanity, ignoring your conversation as best she can, but still. “Estrid, were you finished with my hair?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she turns to you and smiles. “Will you be needing anything else? Breakfast in the breakfast room?”

“Are you hungry, David?”

“No, I’m not. Thank you.”

“No breakfast, Estrid. Thank you. When the doctor arrives, can you show him in?”

Estrid curtsies, and without another word, she leaves you and David in the room.

“You look beautiful today, by the way,” David tells you as he moves towards the small table in the corner to sit but waits for you to reach your chair first to pull it out for you.

“Thanks, I chose it very carefully,” you admit. “Does it make me look like a real Queen?”

“You are a real Queen,” David assures you, then cocks his head as he registers your stress again. “What happened last night?”

You sigh heavily, using your nails to pick at the woodgrain of the table, shoulders slouched a little as you deflate.

“Jane showed up with Tony and Bruce,” you reveal, a shaky breath accompanying your desperate information.

“Oh? At Thor’s invitation?” David wonders, which honestly sobers you up a little from your depression.

“No. I don’t think so. I mean, Tony and Bruce were supposed to come to install a security system for the palace and I guess maybe she just tagged along?”

“And you are upset that your husband’s former lover has forced her way into your new home.”

It’s not a question. David has always been very observant and he sucks for it. Jerk.

“Well...yeah. But that’s not why-”

“Something else happened?”

David leans towards you and places his hand over yours, a soft knowing look on your surrogate father’s face.

With a quick little sigh you tell him about your stress over not getting pregnant and the pressures from the ambassadors to do that before more time goes by to secure the ties between the Asgardians to Earth. You tell him about your worries about Jane that have died down a little since you and Thor got married but have never truly gone away. Lastly, you tell him about what you saw this morning and how you’d been expecting Thor to come directly to you when he got back but clearly that’s not happening.

“Maybe I’m being too sensitive? But I mean, it’s been what? An hour and a half since you got here and he still hasn’t come to look for me?”

You reach over and rub your arm, the soft fabric of your dress pleasing but only in the back of your mind where you’re not thinking about Thor and Jane.

“If that is how you feel, then that is how you feel. The important part now is talking to Thor about it. Couples lose out when they feel about something the way that they do and then keep it to themselves. Even Gods are not mind readers.”

David tilts his head, eyes looking across the room for a moment before he looks right back at you.

“At least not to my knowledge.”

You almost smile, but the stress of talking to Thor about this is giving your anxiety a nice boost.

“What if I don’t like what he says?”

“Then you don’t like it. You cannot avoid the confrontation because you might not hear what you want to hear. That is not how a marriage, or any relationship works. In big moments like these, honesty I think is the best policy.”

He’s right of course. You know he is. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

You close your eyes and try to see Thor’s handsome face smiling sweetly at you, just as he had yesterday before he left. Instead you see him smiling down at Jane next to that stupid telescope, him chuckling at whatever she’s saying as she talks away about her work.

Two knocks to your door pull you from your stupid thoughts and drop your heart into the pit of your stomach, but Estrid peeks in to make sure that you’re okay to see her.

Suddenly, you’re dreading seeing Thor.

“Come in, Estrid.”

She moves in, behind her follows two doctors. One is a woman with a lovely heart shaped face and long full dark brown hair that compliments her olive skin. She’s wearing a sleek gray pantsuit, pink camisole underneath, and a thick black coat draped over her arm.

Her name is Amana Wilson and she has been your gynecologist since David gave you your inheritance and you were able to afford better healthcare.

The second doctor is an older man with a thick black beard streaked through with bits of gray. He glows an almost ethereal way. Clearly Asgardian. Your general caregiver since you moved to New Asgard, Doctor Alric Orvinson smiles eagerly, kindly, a pure excitement radiating off of him.

He’s always so eager to put everything he’s learning into practice.

Doctor Wilson curtsies and Doctor Alric bows before they both greet you in unison.

“Your Majesty,” they say.

David waits until you’re standing before he stands too, but then he moves towards the doors.

“I think I’ll go have some of that breakfast you offered me,” he tells you then makes his way towards the large doors. “Doctors, I know you will give Her Majesty the best care you can offer?”

“Of course,” Doctor Wilson assures him and he leaves you with a quick wink of his eye.

“Thank you, Estrid. Make sure David gets a proper meal? No pop tarts!”

“Party pooper!” David shouts back.

Estrid curtsies, “Right away, Your Majesty.”

She leaves you quickly with a chuckle in her throat at your exchange with David.

As the door closes, you take a step towards your doctors and slowly release a held breath.

“So, what will it be today? Should I go strip or…?”

“No. Not today. Since we did a physical on you last time, we won’t worry about that during this visit,” Doctor Wilson assures you.

“Today, Doctor Wilson will be watching me take some blood and perform a pregnancy test to see if you are expecting our heir!”

Our heir?

New Asgard sees the future prince or princess to come as their own. It’s not just your and Thor’s baby. This baby, if and when there is a baby, is an entire people’s baby.

You feel your anxiety rise again. Clenching your hands, you nod and force a smile as Doctor Alric moves towards you with a large metallic box that he places down and opens.

Inside comes a rush of cold air and what looks like medical equipment used to test blood. You don’t know what it’s called and it’s super high tech. Nothing that you’ve ever seen before.

Your two tests before had been sent to labs and then you’d received the results a few days later, if they’re testing the blood here, does that mean faster results?

“So, how long will I have to wait this time then? To know whether I’m doing my job or not?”

Doctor Alric looks up at you with slight surprise and worry.

There must be something in your voice since he seems to realize what he’s said is putting pressure on you because he stands up straight and fixes his own suit jacket before speaking.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, but Doctor Wilson moves to stand beside you and places her hand on your shoulder.

“Within the hour. This is Stark tech, so it’ll be quick and accurate. Have you been stressing about getting pregnant?” She’s so much softer than Doctor Alric, but not because she’s a woman.

She just knows you better.

“Kinda hard not to with an entire planet waiting for it,” you admit. “Do you think that if-if it’s negative, should Thor and I stop trying so hard? We’re trying daily. No breaks.”

“I think the stress more than the trying will probably make it harder but you’re both healthy. It will happen. If you are tired and you think the stress is too much, then take a break. It won’t do any harm if you lose a couple nights of sleeping with your husband.”

You feel a swell of relief for this human woman who knows just what to say. You give her a sly smirk.

“Have you seen my husband? It’ll hurt.”

She laughs a quick knowing chuckle, “Trust me, you don’t gotta tell me how fine he is, Your Majesty.”

Both of you laugh a few seconds then you take the seat that Doctor Alric sets beside you and while you roll up your sleeve, he and Doctor Wilson fly off into medical jargon that you don’t understand and consequently zone out into thoughts of Thor and why the fuck he still hasn’t come to see you.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing iii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 393

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re bailing again?” Taehyung looks up from his stack of books for the first time in the last hour since the two of you have started your study date. Granted, he meant no spite but he didn’t understand what set you to flee. The name that was almost taboo to you; the name that brings more tugs to your heart that hurts than one that’s fond.

You glance up at him with meek eyes, “I have an office hour with my economics professor in half an hour.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“This is the fourth time this week you’ve ditched.” Taehyung sounds mildly irritated and you don’t blame him. You made a promise months ago before mid-terms coming up that you’d help him with statistics. But before the two of you could ever get into the nitty-gritty details of math; somehow the forbidden name comes up.

“I know.” You say softly. “I’m sorry …” You don’t say anything else because your heart is speeding up in a way that is anxiety-inducing. Because Taehyung off-handedly mentioned that Jungkook would be dropping by in a few; and you didn’t know when he’d turn up and you rather not stick around to find out.

His words still linger in your mind and every time there was any prompt to remind you of his face, or his name—you remember the way his words sounded so assured in the context of the situation first. You remember the malevolence that lied behind his usually kind eyes. But it’s like the eyes filled with desire in a one-dimensional view of your body replaced the youthful mirth you grew up with.

“Look.” Taehyung sighs, pushing himself up to look at you with a stern stare. “If you don’t want to tutor me that’s fine. I can find another tutor. But I’d appreciate if you’d let me know beforehand so I don’t have to come all the way just for an hour then have you leave once the content begins to get tougher.”

Taehyung was by no means being rude or outwardly offensive. He was straightforward and you appreciated that he was honest with you. And rather, you feel guilty of the fact that you bailed for your own selfish reasons.

“I do want to tutor you.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes dart to the doors of the library. “It really just slipped my mind.”

It sounds lame, even to you; and Taehyung picks up on it too.

“You don’t forget things like this.” He says pointedly. “It’s like every time I mention—”

Taehyung stops himself and your eyes dart away, hands already tugging your bag over your shoulder. Maybe if you sped up, he wouldn’t stare at you with an inquisitive stare that looked similar to one of realisation.

“Did something happen between you and Kook?”

You wince. Taehyung is observant.

“Are the two of you—?”

“I’m fine.” You snap, tone defensive and on edge when you hear the bell of the library door ring. You don’t dare to turn to look. “We’re fine.”

“_____ …” Taehyung frowns.

“I gotta go. Okay?” You huff, offering one last apologetic look before you turn to leave. But in your haste, you bump into a solid figure and you’re terrified that it’s—

“Careful.” A deeper, unfamiliar but welcomed voice murmurs.

When your eyes look up, it’s just someone you recognise from Jungkook’s football games. You were sure he was a key player too. His stature was definitely one of an athlete. He was tall, broad, and firm; and the black shirt that hugged his chest only emphasised your guess.

“S-Sorry.” You squeak, looking down.

You brush past him before he can get another word in, and only when you slip past him do you see Jungkook lingering behind with a frown on his face.

“______—” He calls.

You’re able to leave before he can get a hold of you; and that only causes the frown on Jungkook’s face to harden.

When the door rings once more to signal your departure, Jungkook is already sat with Taehyung and the other person that bumped into you.

“What’s up with the two of you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook stiffens and responds with a grit of his teeth. “Nothing.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced and Namjoon—though recently enlightened with the fact that there was potentially something brewing between the two of you—was also observant enough to pick up on the tense atmosphere that you left with.

“Aren’t the two of you super close?” Namjoon says offhandedly, already shifting through his assignments while he lays them out.

Jungkook wants to let out a dry scoff at the assumption. Sure, the two of you were close. He isn’t so sure about that anymore.

“You’re clearly lying to me.” Taehyung snorts. “So whatever it is the two of you are keeping a secret please just sort it out because I need _____ here to tutor me and you’re getting in the way of my education.”

Taehyung mostly says this as a joke, but it strikes Jungkook straight where it’s vulnerable. He wasn’t going to be the first to break, nor will he indulge Taehyung into what he said to you in the same library they were in at this very moment.

So instead, Jungkook brushes it off like he’s been doing so more recently than ever.

“Whatever.” He mutters.

For some reason, you see Jungkook again on the same day—accompanied by the same person that you bumped into.

You realise that you’ve spent more time avoiding him than dealing with your feelings after what transpired. But you’re weak and you suppose you’ve always been weak when it came to Jungkook.

It was difficult … to say the least. Because while Jungkook’s words were malicious and filled with the intent to hurt and break you; the better (and foolish) part of you wanted to believe that he was angry. Driven by emotions that he wasn’t thinking straight. But while you were naive, you were also substantially aware that there had to be some form of truth to the words he’s thrown at you.

But this was the same Jungkook that you grew up with, the young boy you’ve somehow seen transition from awkward and endearing teen to … to the confident and assured man he was. You didn’t want to make any excuses for him but you’ve always been soft. And you hated that your eyes somehow still linger on his approaching figure when the rational side of your brain tells you to run away.

However, it’s not him who greets you. It’s his friend. The one you vaguely recognise but can’t quite put a name to a face.

“Hey!” He calls out to you.

His smile is easy with a dimple appearing on his cheeks. He looks kind and soft for someone that was easily a head taller than you were, and despite his height—there was something oddly comforting about the way he approaches you as if he knows you.

You try to ignore the coldness from Jungkook’s end and remind yourself that you should’ve felt angry—not the other way around.

“Hi?” You say, or more appropriately ask.

Jungkook’s expression is still blank; every time your eyes briefly linger on his face you wonder how it’d ended up this way.

“_____, right? I’ve seen you at a few of our games.” His friend enters a conversation so seamlessly. “Kook’s never introduced us, though.”

You clear your throat and you hope your face isn’t a dead giveaway of your discomfort. Especially when you blatantly ignore Jungkook’s piercing stare on the side of your temple.

“I don’t … mingle around that much.” You say softly,

And it’s parallel to the image that Jungkook has of you. The quiet, timid girl that’s free time is consumed with books and assignments than a social life to make up for it. You used to think that maybe you weren’t the type that enjoyed large or loud gatherings. But Jungkook’s voice only makes you wonder if you were the problem instead.

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” He smiles at you, offering a grin filled with teeth that you find yourself unconsciously returning, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you … uh … Namjoon.” You mumble, and your eyes nearly land on Jungkook’s face out of pure habit, but you stop yourself before you hurt yourself even more.

“It’s nice to formally meet you too. I’ve been asking Jungkook to introduce the two of us since forever ago but he seemed dead set on keeping you to himself.” Namjoon jokes lightly. And you almost miss it, but you swear Jungkook stiffens by his side.

“Ah …” You reply lamely, fingering your strap as you shift on your heels.

It feels awkward to not acknowledge Jungkook; you’re wondering if Namjoon picks up on the cold air between the both of you. Namjoon looks like he’s thinking of something, but before he can say anything—Jungkook is tugging his arm roughly.

“We have practice.” Jungkook grits, finally making himself known.

Your eyes dart to your feet, and you hate how small you feel in his presence. It should’ve been easy but this was the hardest part of it all. Pretending like you were objectively okay when his words constantly lingered at the back of your mind.

“Go ahead without me. I want to ask _____ something.” Namjoon shrugs Jungkook’s hand off of him. And this time you catch the venomous glare that he shoots his friend, accompanied by the clench of his jaw.

“Coach will—”

“I’m the captain, remember?” Namjoon snorts, but it’s not condescending. Just a reminder.

Jungkook purses his lips and his eyes dart between the two of you; and you know him well enough to know that there’s something on his mind, especially with the way he nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Don’t be late.” Jungkook grits, stomping off in the other direction without even sparing you a glance.

You frown at him because he was the one that came to you that day unwarranted; treating you like absolutely nothing as if there weren’t years of history behind the two of you.

But Namjoon is large enough to distract you because he quite literally blocks the view of Jungkook’s disappearing body with his own when he stands right in front of you.

“Sorry about that.” Namjoon looks sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind …” He trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “N-No! It’s fine. Just … uh … what’s up?” You wince inwardly at your horrible social skills and you have a slight understanding of why Jungkook pointed out the things he did. Maybe he was right—

“I—well …” Namjoon mumbles, and he seems less assured than he was earlier. “I think—you’re really—cool?—and smart—you seem nice so … sorry! God.” He rambles as he brushes his hands over his face.

You blink at him.

Namjoon takes your reaction as a bad one as he winces, chuckling lowly.

“I’m sorry. I’m not this … awkward.” He tells you.

You nod your head slowly trying to process his words. And you feel a little guilty knowing that your lack of response probably pushes Namjoon further into his shell. But he has a glare in his eye that shows that he won’t be affected so easily.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “I follow your podcast. And I think it’s really great. You offer some really interesting perspectives on the War on Drugs—or as you mentioned—the disproportionate effects of racial tension that lead to unjustified or mass incarceration rates in the U.S.”

Somehow you know you’ve said the exact same words in the monthly podcast you do with the International Relations department for extra credit. But when Namjoon speaks, it’s as if he’s carefully picking apart the context and nuance of your words so carefully before he quotes it back to you; as if he treats your opinion with heavy regard and not one of the light matters.

You feel flattered.

“Oh.” You blink. “Thank you?”

Namjoon offers you an easy grin. And you recall: captain of the football team, he says? He doesn’t really … fit the stereotype. Besides the fact that he looked insanely fit. He was gentle, that much you could tell. But you also were a little biased when it came to footballers because you only had Jungkook to compare him with.

“Sorry for just springing that on you.” He apologises sheepishly and you’re even more confused as to why he feels the need to say sorry. “It’s just that Kook was always so bitchy about introducing me to you whenever I asked so … I thought why not take the chance myself?”

You gape at him. You don’t know what to do with the set of new information you’re presented with. Firstly, the fact that someone like Namjoon paid attention to a nobody like you? And secondly, the weird revelation that Jungkook somehow gate kept his friendship … or whatever the fuck it was … with you.

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I’m really flattered. Thank you. No one’s ever … told me that before.” You give him a gentle smile because that’s all you can muster.

Namjoon returns it tenfold as he hikes his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, I gotta go now. Practice calls.” He jokes, waving at you. For a moment, he stills; as if remembering something before he fishes out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it to you in a haste.

“What is—?”

“My number. You know—if you ever want to talk. About … stuff. I think you’re super smart—and intelligent. They’re synonymous but yeah. If you want.” He rambles.

You blink up at him and before you can muster a response, he’s darting away.

You watch his figure retreat and notice that Jungkook is waiting for him a good distance away. But his eyes aren’t on Namjoon’s somewhat giddy figure—but on you.

He stares at you long and hard, and you feel conflicted. The paper in your hand nearly chafes, but the feeling is easily forgotten when his expression hardens.

When Namjoon reaches him with a clasp to his back, the pair walks off. Not before he gives you one passing glance over his shoulder that leaves you feeling more restless than ever.

[ktheist]

you can sit with us. | m

pairings. taehyung x reader x jungkook

genre. slice of life

words. 5.7k

warnings. explicit content, semi-public sex, threesome (obviously), everyone’s a switch at this point, but top!jungkook, big dick!tae, big dick!jungkook, discussions of sexuality

synopsis. the person frowns, confusion clearly painted on his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people.”

x

the first time you met jeon jungkook and kim taehyung was at a bar downtown. you’d bumped into the tall, dark haired man at the bar who was in the middle of turning around after what seemed to be a reminder for the bartender to serve him and his companion at “table 6.”

“oh sorry,” you find yourself saying to a broad chest before letting your eyes travel up past the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple and finally his beautiful, mesmerizing eyes but it was the sweet, tender smile that gets you clenching your hands together in hopes to stop them from coming up to fan yourself, “oh there you are! wow, you’re tall!”

the sound of his chuckle was music to your ears, “i get that a lot - have a good one,” with a good natured nod and a parting farewell, he disappeared into the crowd.

you knocked on the counter, fixing the bartender a smile, “hi,” your half buzzed smile dragged out the word into something that might or might be interpreted the wrong way, especially considering where you were but when she smirked at you, you knew this one was going to be on the house, “oh, your teeth are so pretty!”

“thanks, baby, what can i get you?” as self-assured as she was, she still steered the conversation back to the reason you’re there, butt half sitting on the stool and arms propped over the counter, leaning a little too close than one should.

“oh!” you gasped as though you’d just remembered something, “can i have a bloody mary, please?”

“sure thing, sweets,” she winked and you giggled.

the whole time she was preparing your order, she’d kept her eyes on you and you were a giggling mess, eyes of stars staring at the way her nimble hands did their work up till the moment she slid it over to you with a, “it’s on the house.”

“oh my god, thank you!” a pause in the moment and a linger of gaze later, you were pushing the piece of paper with a sequence of numbers into your bra.

there was skip to your step as you made your way over to what was supposed to be a booth that you booked with your friends - who, in the short span of time managed to get their of companions for the night and consequently left no space for you to even sit.

so you stood there, not knowing how much time passed, with your jaws on the ground and the bloody mary held midair. completely frozen in place.

that was, until the handsome stranger beckoned you over from two seats away. he only had one other person with him. if his hair was dark, his companion’s was jet black, “hey, you can sit with us.”

with a dry sniffle, you’d marched way over. a stomp in your steps and a huff as you plopped down across from him and his companion. he’d introduced himself as taehyung and his companion, jungkook. and you had, forgetting everything about your untasteful encounter, brightly announced your name, “thanks so much for letting me sit with you guys,” you gushed, “me and my girlfriends made a promise that we’d never let any man or woman get in our way of girl’s night,” with an face full of dissatisfaction and an exhalation, you continued, “but guess that plan went out of the window.”

“is this your first time? don’t think we’ve seen you before,” jungkook’s voice, if there existed a word to sum up how to describe it, it would be melodic. a hymn of the heavens in the body of a man - a very beautiful man at that.

“no but this is my second time,” and halfway-drunk you had no filter or any sense of shutting the fuck up before you shared too much to strangers, you went on about how “a girl i was sorta a thing with brought me here,” you and her clearly didn’t work out because, otherwise why would you be here with, “so my girlfriends wanted to go to a gay bar and thought why not bring them here, right?” you scoffed, remembering the sisterhood promise made just a few hours ago, “wrong - they ditched me as soon as they saw the only few straight men here.”

that seemed to bring a rise of chuckle from taehyung and a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff from jungkook. for the rest of the night, you drank and did shots and danced on the floor - the two of them seemed a tad bit protective over you, especially when a man got too close. they weren’t looking for any because, “so how long have you guys been dating?”

“we’ve known each other for seven years and we’ve been dating for-” jungkook began before taehyung chirped in, “two years.”

“oh my god, you guys finish each other’s sentences,” you cooed, vision blurred but still somewhat able to process the information that went through your ears “goals.”

so they had no reason to let anyone else come into your little circle of three on top of the very obvious fact that you were too far gone to even consent to even a dance with any man or woman.

you remembered your friends, some time into the night, finding you and thanking the two men for looking out for you before they dragged you out with them. neither of them actually went home with anyone but it still didn’t stop you from holding a vendetta against them because, “girls, we made a sacred promise and you broke it!”

they’d bribed you with ice cream and sushi and you were a puddle of delighted jelly by the time you all walked out of the sushi place.

it was a month later that you’d returned to the bar, decked in your best curve-hugging skin-tight dress. this time, you were alone.

the plan to earn brownie points from the bartender fell through when you found out that she was quit a few days ago and the employer refused to give you any details about her - even her number to you because you’d regrettably got it wet beyond repair after dumping the clothes you’d worn that night into the washer before going to bed and setting the laundry to wash the next morning, forgetting the treasure that you’d gained the night before.

with shoulders sagged and a mournful pout, you’d walked over to one of those two-people tables, hoping to get a beer in a leave. but then they were there, sitting at the same table, beckoning you over like the good overnight friends that they were.

“what’s with the long face, sweetie?” taehyung pouted, eyebrows knitting together as he shot you the prettiest puppy eye to which made you giggle in response.

so you’d told them about how you’d fucked up with one of the cutest girl you’d seen in ages. “ugh, i hate when that happens,” jungkook made an over exaggerated eyeroll, probably to cheer you up which partially worked.

until you three decided to dance again with taehyung holding your hand up as you twirled around like a princess in red. when it’s jungkook’s turn to twirl, he had to bend his knees and gradually make a full circle in an awkward way but still ended with a hair flip.

and so it went, a friendship of mutuality and overflowing gayness. you’d become eating buddies who travelled all over seoul for the best foodplace that’s ever been reviewed. had stay overs when you’d driven out of town and back to their place. went to the bar every so often which they’d taken up the task of being your wingmen.

they succeeded in their jobs a few times. but the girls you’d slept with never stayed and you never thought of proceeding to reach out beyond a one nightstand. because you were young and they were sweet but you didn’t think a relationship of trust and confidence could ever spawn from meetings at bars and spurred into a hot, passionate romance that simmered into ashes the next day.

“i don’t know you guys,” you sigh, “i think i’m done with girls.”

“oh no,” taehyung looks genuinely mortified while jungkook shakes his head “a loss for the gays and girls” and you giggle-  never a dull moment with these two.

“i’m not saying i’m done done but it’s been awhile since i’ve sucked a dick, you know?” and with friendship came honesty and the comfortableness of saying things for what it is without being judged for it.

“oh don’t we know,” jungkook snickers, while taehyung shoots him a look - he’d always been the shy one between the two. the younger man goes in for a kiss, to which the elder accepts, meeting him halfway.

and all of it only makes you a tad bit lonely as you scan the crowd. some gorgeous beings catches your eye and you’d like to think you caught theirs too but instead of the gentle and loving affection you’d seen between the two men, their eyes were sparked with lust and passion. like nymphs of the night who’d leave you high and dry once they got what they wanted.

so you left to get a drink at the bar, ordering a shot of jeager in hopes of drinking away the creeping hollowness that begins to fill the lonely parts of your heart. several shots in and you’re tumbling over to your two friends who seem to be have taken things up several notches after your leave. with taehyung on top of jungkook and the first not so shy anymore to let out unrestrained moans as his younger other half laps on his neck.

you’re halfway drowned into your own little world and probably will be going home with them and crashing in that spare bedroom you’ve started calling your part time bedroom.

until you lock eyes with jungkook. his lower face buried in taehyung’s shoulder while the latter pauses, glancing over to you as though just remembering that you were there. still having the sense to lift an inquisitive eyebrow, you do so with a, “oh don’t mind me, i’m just happy that you guys are getting some tonight.”

“you know,” jungkook pauses, letting the seconds trickle on like the droplets of on the wall of the glass before it hits the surface of the table, “you wanted to suck a dick, right? welll we’ve got dicks.”

it takes you a long winded, painful moment to digest his words. another to let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff as if to say, “you’re kidding...” but the “...right?” comes a second too late. a second too hopeful.

and that’s how you end up in the washroom - you’re not quite sure if it’s the men or women’s but you’re surprised that it could fit three adults in one tiny cubicle. but the matter of how to suck whose dick was an entirely different problem.

“shit ___, your elbow’s in my stomach,” jungkook hisses in a muted whisper, his hand on your hip, no doubt the culprit of your ridden up dress until your cotton panties are out in the open.

“fuck, jungkook, move over, i can’t reach tae’s dick,” you grumble out, the aforementioned man’s hardened dick in your hand but the space not allowing you to even crouch in front of him as he sat on the toilet whilst jungkook stood behind you.

“will someone just suck my dick?” the latter sighs just as he throbs in your hand.

“wait,” jungkook says, earning a dissatisfied groan from you and his boyfriend but before either of you can say anything, he’s turning you around, hands guiding your hips, “tae, push her panties down.”

almost as though controlled by an invisible force, the man’s hands are quick to get those baby pink panties down until they’re hanging around your ankles.

“hey wait wait wait!” you repeat like a mantra as you feel jungkook’s hands guiding you down onto taehyung’s lap which, if you remember correctly, was sporting a protruding hardness in between.

“oh fuck,” yes, you’d just confirmed that an extremely erected and extravagantly lively dick is excitingly welcoming you with the way it’s jolting against your lower lips.

“oh my god,” taehyung moans, hands on the curve of your hips as he gently lowers you onto him until he’s fully inside you.

“that’s nice that you two are enjoying yourselves but - remember i’m the one that made this work,” a voice says before a hand wraps around your wrist, guiding it to a similarly throbbing hardness but of a lesser length than taehyung’s to which you soon realize that he makes it up with his girth.

“someone’s jealous,” the person behind you snickers - you have half a mind to join in on the teasing if it isn’t for your hips and knees focusing on keeping up your weight whilst you hand strokes the length in front of you, mouth lapping on his tip.

“shut up and kiss me, pretty boy,” you can almost hear the eye roll from jungkook’s voice as the tip of your nose hits his pelvic, mouth stretching wider as his leans over you, possibly to lock lips with the man he vindictive but lovingly complimented.

and so it goes, your first dick - two actually - after a long while. needless to say, you come out flushed and walking silly but both men had their hands around the opposite hip from the side they’re standing beside. it helps you hold yourself up at least until you’re in their car, switching from sticking your tongue in taehyung’s throat to jungkook’s when he stops at a red light. body stretching over the leg space between the passenger seat and the back of the driver’s seat, his neck probably hurting from having to crane around until he reaches your lips whilst taehyung’s keeps himself busy with a hand under your panties. teasing, rubbing your pleasure nub just above your lips until you’re soaking by the time the car rolled to a stop in their parking lot.

“scoot over,” jungkook instructs, unbuckling his seatbelt, “we really need to normalize waiting for the third person to finish doing whatever they were doing before deciding to fuck in the back seat of the car while they’re driving.”

“can i have your mouth, sweetie?” taehyung announces, sending waves of excitement down your core as you feel yourself clench in anticipation.

there’s just something about how they manhandle you - your hips particularly as taehyung lifts you up and slides away to the right of the car and setting you down like a little doll, hand pushing down his pants and letting his erection shoot up like a roly poly.

“great cause i want her pussy,” jungkook’s displeased tone is replaced by a breathy agreement.

and just like his other half, he’s making you stand on your knees, body bent over taehyung until his dick is in your face, oozing with precum.

“tae baby, at this point, you don’t even have to ask,” you fix him a smirk, savoring the way his eyes darken with a sort of godless desire as you lap at his tip like you would a lollipop.

the second time around, you’re much better at focusing on what’s in front of you despite the other length filling you up balls deep.

you’re not sure when you’d stopped or what time you fell asleep. but all you knew, you were sore and full by the time you were drifting between the waking world and the dream world.

the morning when you woke up, it’s been because of the way the bed shook like an earthquake was wrecking up the room. an earthquake that moaned, “deeper, jungkook, oh fuck.”

the sight before you has you clenching your thighs together but at the same time, the giggle that left your lips is what causes heads to turn and eyes to focus on you.

“did we wake you up, sweetie? i’m so sorry,” taehyung is the first to worry, “oh yes-” but that worry subsides when jungkook starts moving again, skin slapping skin.

but the elder isn’t quite ready to give up just yet, “we wanted to wait for you to- ah - get up - fuck - oh,” he whimpers, burying his face into the mattress before peeking at you with eyebrows knitting together, “when we were talking about l-last night, we - we couldn’t help ourselves.”

“don’t worry about me, i had plenty of dick to go for at least a whole month,” you stare at taehyung’s pinked lips for the briefest moment before searching his eyes, feeling a sudden heat rise to your cheeks when you notice he’d caught the lingering stare - last night was fun but all three of you were buzzed and possibly horny as hell, you’re not so sure if a kiss would be welcomed by either of them now that you’re all sober and awake.

“i’m gonna go shower,” you announce, throwing your feet over the edge of the bed, the sound of your padding steps drowned by their pleasured moans.

the hot shower helps ease the knots in your muscles and calm your mind - or at least partially. the sight of the two boyfriends shamelessly fucking in front of your eyes still plays at the back of your mind like a graphic scene. and so you find yourself caressing your hardened nipples, your free hand snaking down between your legs as a whimper escapes your mouth. almost as though anything louder, and the whole world would know what you’re doing.

“what? you’re touching yourself?” a melodic but dangerous voice reverberates against the wall and cuts through the sound of running shower.

before you can even call out - ask who it is even though it’s obvious whose voice it belongs to, the curtain is torn open, revealing a sculpted god - you didn’t notice last night because it was dark but even then you’d known those strong arms that held you must be hiding something else underneath those layer of clothes.

“oh, hey, tae - the bathroom’s kinda oc-” you were about to ask what he was doing because the bathroom was obviously occupied - besides the fact that it’s the guest room’s bedroom and the main bedroom had their own bathroom - but before you can, a pair of arms are pulling you against another body. muscular and deliciously built but exceptionally predatory.

“you weren’t gonna come without us, are you?” taehyung’s crestfallen expression is all you see. his downturned lips and puckered lips being your weakness.

“y-you guys were busy, so i-” your words are cut short when you feel the coldness of a breath against you damp ear, “uh-uh, who said we were?” jungkook’s teasing denial is what makes you clench your legs together, only for them to be pried open by the dark haired man who’s fallen to his knees right in front of you.

“tae!” you shriek, caught by surprised at the sudden lost of balance as he hooks one leg over his shoulder whilst your hand claws onto jungkook’s arms that’s banded over your chest for a sort of leviation.

“shhh,” jungkook hums in your ears, as though to say ‘we’d never let you fall’.

but you didn’t fall and taehyung’s looking at you with the prettiest eyes, “what? you said i didn’t have to ask, right?”

“n-no,” the heat comes on full force - all of a sudden, the hot water trickling down your bodies aren’t even remotely sufficient to keep you warm, “you don’t have to.”

and so it goes, your many firsts within the short span of less than 24 hours, spurred by the two wonderful souls you never thought you’d come to know so closely within the duration of your friendship.

you waited with nothing but a towel around your body until jungkook knocked on the door, a folded set of clothes in hand.

“oh hey thanks - don’t know what i’d do if i had to walk in the streets in fishnets and flashy red dress,” you force out a chuckle, cheeks heating up as you swipe the clothes off his hands in a blink of an eye. to which he heaves out a sigh, but the smile on his lips tells you that he’s all but angry.

“hey, i know what went on in the last few hours was crazy,” he starts, sounding uncannily casual about it, “but we don’t want this to get in the way of what we’ve built - can we talk about this over breakfast? tae’s making it now but- i mean, if you want to, of course.”

and that’s when you finally let the walls come tumbling down. standing there bare - quite literally - with your chest washed off its initial worries, “honestly, i’d really like that.”

“perfect,” the brightest smile lights up on his face and for a moment, you thought everything went back to normal. back when all three of you are hanging out and joking about the littlest things one of you realized and pointed out to the other two.

“oh and,” jungkook tilts his head to the side, “sorry if i was rude or anything last night,” he quickly adds, “and just now - i tend to be like that during sex.”

“oh,” is all that follows your response, thoughts running around before you can actually reach out one by one to process it - so single celled brain goes, “i kind of like that side of you, actually.”

“really?” there it goes the smile that could quite literally blind you as his shoulders visibly sags, “tae hates it when i boss him around - thank god that’s not the majority opinion from now on.”

“from now on?” you echo his words but before you can interrogate him some more, he’s out of the door and yelling for you to come to the kitchen when you’re done putting on the clothes.

so you find yourself sitting in front of the two boyfriend whom you’ve spend quite a night knowing. they’re gazing at you with eyes that can’t stop squinting into crescents and smile that can’t stop smiling.

“okay should i tell or you?” taehyung turns to the darker haired male, their hands that are twined together moving towards the man he’s pointing.

“how about together?” jungkook suggests, a glint in his eyes that makes you stare, wide eyed and unblinking. pancake lying cold and uneaten as you wait with bated breath, “...tell me what?”

before you can even finish your words, the two bursts out in exclamation, “we like you.”

taehyung’s is a bit more excited while jungkook’s is a tad bit reserved.

“i like you guys too!” you declare, hands clapping together in excitement.

“oh my god, you do?” taehyung squeals, bringing his free hand and the one he has twined with jungkook to his heart.

“don’t i?” you make a ridiculous sound, hand waving away the ludicrosity of the possibility of you saying otherwise, “i’m glad we get to put last night behind us and still be friends.”

“i don’t think she gets it,” jungkook says a whole heartbeat later whilst taehyung’s upturned lips gradually but surely falls.

“what?” your eyes flit between the two, as if trying to spot the thing you seem to obviously miss.

“sweetie,” taehyung reaches his hand to you, to which you gladly accept before jungkook does the same with his other hand and you similarly meet halfway over the table “we like like you,” the taller man emphasizes.

it takes you a moment to digest his words. another to squint your eyes at them with a ‘okay where’s the punchline?’ kind of smile. and one last moment for it to sink in, “i thought you guys were gay and last night and this morning was a mistake?”

“i thought so too,” taehyung is the first to break the bond, his free hand coming to his chest, bent in a 90 degrees angle, “but i’ve had girl crushes and they went away after i met jungkook so i thought they were just me being in denial of my sexuality but i like spending time with you and jungkook,” he slips his large hand into yours that stays frozen on the table where he’d left it, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “i like the way you smile, the way you’d team up with me to tease jungkook,” that receives a snort from the man in question, “the way you’re always so supportive and optimistic- i just - i like you.”

“well, what he said except i like everything he’s not about you,” jungkook simply says, “and unlike him, i know i’m bi.”

“and we want you to be a part of this wonderful, beautiful, delightful relationship,” taehyung adds, fixing you the most tender smile as he gazes at you as though he’s never seen such a magnificent creature before.

“i mean...” you breathe out, a sea of emotions crashing against your chest before you finally say, “this is a lot to take in guys. i don’t know what to say - i think i need some time for myself.”

“oh,” it’s the way taehyung seems like he has more to say, the way his smile is completely replaced with a hesitant flat line and the way jungkook lets go of their twined hands to rub the elder man’s back.

“it’s okay, take your time,” he says, and you shoot him a grateful but awkward smile before taking your things and leaving through the door. unsure of whether you’ll ever return. whether you’ll ever laugh about the stupidity of bravely idiotic characters in horror movies again. whether you’ll ever huddle in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for three again. whether those peaceful days will ever be yours again depending on your own choices.

days go by and then one week and then two and you’ve confided in at least two people whose reactions are similarly perturbed by what you’ve told them until you’ve concluded that nobody will truly understand the confusion and frustration and jitters that courses through your veins when you think about the two charming but glaringly different ends of the spectrum men.

one is like the blue sky, bright yet vast and a trove of never ending possibilities while the other is like the midnight sky, decked with fleeting moments of vulnerability and endless mystery. but both, you’ve come to realize, are the reasons your view of the world has changed for the better. made your days a little more worth looking forward to. and it’s exiting and daunting all at once because the people you’ve confided in have expressed their concerns and dissertation of what they think hides behind the veils of normality. a box they’re not so used to stepping out of and deems those beyond the cardboards uncommon. foreign. unknown.

and truthfully, you’ve already decided what you want - know what you want to do on your way back that day after you’d made a beeline for the door. and as you stand in front of the same door, sniffling from the remnants of your fight with your parents after your sister - one of the people you’d confided in - deliberately told them about what she thinks - and she thought right - you’re about to do.

two rings later, you’re staring at a face of an angel. doe eyes hiding behind jet black locks widening as the sight of you hits him like a brick.

“____, hey, it’s okay,” jungkook says in the softest voice as he gathers you in his arms like an old cardigan.

“baby, who’s at the door?” comes the loud but smooth baritone a minute later.

he must have seen himself - who their uninvited guest is as silence settles in between all three of you before taehyung’s coos, “oh, sweetie.”

it’s only after an hour of ice cream and watching friends and the two boyfriends wrapping you up in a burrito blanket that you blanket do you spill the beans on why you showed up at their door at 11 in the evening, looking like a mess they never ordered.

your parents are livid. they think this isn’t real - that you’re being delusional and that both taehyung and jungkook were messing with you. it was the slander on the two soul’s names that has you unleashing the words you’d never thought you’d say to your own parents.

“i can take liking girls. that’s fine - but a relationship of three?” your father had stood in front of you, fingers pointing at his head as he spat out, “are you crazy?”

the family dinner had turned into a family quarrel. and your sister had been caught up in between - she’d wanted you too see the ludicrosity of it all and if not her, then maybe you’d listened to your parents.

and listened you did.

like a time bomb surrounded with dynamites, you’d eventually exploded. anything you say would never get through the and anything they said, you’d taken negatively.

so you took the cab straight to taehyung and jungkook’s.

“i just - it hurts because they won’t accept you guys and that means they’re rejecting me,” you sniffle, “i’m sorry i took so long.”

“hey, it’s okay, you’re with us now,” jungkook gathers you in lap whilst taehyung wraps his arms around the both of you from your other side, “yeah, cry all you want sweetie, we’re here for you.”

you wake up the next morning huddled up in a king sized bed with the two men on either side of you, almost like a knights protecting their princess as she slept like a baby after crying her eyes out for another half hour. your legs are tangled together, a pair of mismatched hands on your stomach while a snore resounds from your left where taehyung is sleeping like a beauty and jungkook on your right like an angel.

and for the first time in a long time, that hollowness in your chest cowers away in the light of the day that seeps through the blinds, painting paralleled shadows over your skin.

“i love you,” you whisper, looking between their two peacefully sleeping faces.

x

“hey, beautiful, you come here often?” a gruff voice reverberates in your ears just as you’ve placed the order for you and-

“yeah, with my boyfriends,” you shoot him a polite smile before attempting to slip past him and the stools you’re trapped in between but before you can even manage to move, he inches closer.

it’s been a year since you’ve been dating taehyung and jungkook. eight months since you’ve decided to move in with them for good. your parents reached out to you two months ago after declaring your banishment from ever stepping in their property let alone attend family dinners and gatherings. your relatives have all heard about your unusual but not unreal relationship and so have taehyung’s and jungkook’s families.

opposition still rises from both sides of the families’ distant relatives. it’s not too far off from yours.

“oh, you mean how girls call their lady friends girlfriends,” a lecherous grin forms on his face, “i get it.”

“no,” you hiss, needles of annoyance getting to you earlier tonight than most nights, “i mean my boyfriends who i’m dating.”

the person frowns, confusion clearly painted in his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?” he doesn’t even wait for your response as he takes a step back, “a simple ‘no’ could’ve done the trick, you think you’re better than me?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people,” you tilt your head to the side just the slightest bit, seeing him in a different but not any more attractive angle, “and honey, i know i’m better than you.”

and with that, you raise a challenging brow, daring him to say otherwise just as a smooth but deadly voice calls for you, “____, you were taking so long so we decided to check on you, is everything okay, sweetie?”

“hey man, what business do you have with our girlfriend?” jungkook lifts an eyebrow in a similar fashion as you as he glares down at the man who’s at least a few inches short.

“you-” the man steals a petrified glance at you as the realization sinks in his eyes but before he can say anything, you strut in between the two men, smirking when one of their arms snake around your waist in a possessive nature.

“nope,” you say simply, “shorty here was just leaving, weren’t you?”

he mumbles out something incoherent, between a ‘liar’ and ‘rude’ before scurrying away and out into another part of the bar until you can no longer see him.

“thanks for having my back, babes,” you stand on your tip toe only to have taehyung chuckle, bending over until your lips press his before doing the same to jungkook, “baby,” and the two sharing a kiss together a heartbeat later.

“let’s dance!” you grab their hands and begin to drag them to the dance floor which does nothing if they hadn’t move themselves and they know it too as they laugh, the taller men patting your hair gently because he knows how long you worked on it.

“our girlfriend is so cute, isn’t she?”

jungkook pushes taehyung’s hands away only to ruffle the top of your hair despite your protest, “sure is.”

“my hair!” you lament, “babes, baby messed up my hair!”

you tug on your boyfriend’s sleeve, the man looking between you and his boyfriend, unsure of whether to be the pacifier or the scolder. in the end, he goes in for a kiss on your pouted lips, “you look beautiful either way, sweetie.”

“oh my god, it’s ruined, isn’t it?” you question, eyes filling with dread.

the culprit has the gal to laugh at your predicament until you announce your choice of dance partner being your taller boyfriend for the rest of the night and him not exactly opposing it whilst jungkook is left to trail behind you until he catches up between you, arms around your waist and taehyung’s, “okay, okay, sorry - i’ll make it up to both of you later tonight!”

at that bold yet careless exclamation, you look at taehyung, only to see the corners of his lips lifting into a devious smirk similar to yours.

“it’s been awhile since we took out the whip, hasn’t it?”

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee x Reader Fanfiction (Transformers): Chapter 2

“Alright mom I heard you the first time. “

She really was protective. Most afternoons you had to talk her into even letting you go out. Coming home that night after your discovery, well you supposed she got suspicious to why you’d been so strangely quiet. Now sometimes it’s like she was watching you like a hawk.

“Don’t be all hours either young lady. I don’t want to have to come looking for you.” you grumbled.

“Okay okay I won’t.” you grabbed your bike, taking off. Riding in the afternoon was your stress reliever. A way to forget about the weight of everything and just relax. The car that beeped at you made you stop. You pulled off to the side, searching for some type of insignia. You sighed when you realized what was going on.

“Damn, they made me paranoid. “

Sam knew he couldn’t pretend you hadn’t seen what you did that night, so he told you everything. Autobots, Cybertron and of course Decepticons. You swore you saw one a couple times, but you realized you were just overthinking. He didn’t sugarcoat it either. They weren’t like the Autobots, and the unfortunate situation where you would meet one, you could only guess that he wanted you to be prepared. 

Getting back on the bike, you started pedaling, a bit distracting. It was a bit immature, but you were avoiding Sam. Whenever you had to leave you always took the long route, just to stay away from his house. It was petty, and it wasn’t like he’d meant for you to find out. Everything would have been fine if you’d just mind your own business, but you couldn’t help it. 

Now you were just...terrified.

“Aliens..”

You felt bad for laughing at some of the theorists out there. If a planet with giant robots exists, who knows what else did. The possibilities, that’s what really scared you. The unknown.

“I’m a coward.”

Sam was literally your age, but from the way he spoke, he’d already been through so much, yet he didn't seem phased. All you did was find out, and you were already running for the hills. Your gaze shifted when you saw a flash of black and yellow from your peripheral view. You squinted, still steering your bike ahead. Glancing behind slightly, you huffed. You weren’t imagining it. Making a sharp turn, you swing down a familiar street. Passing a few houses you realize the car was not far behind.

It went on like that for a while, and when you got to the huge abandoned building, your bike tires screeched as you came to an abrupt stop, facing the yellow Camaro that pulled up right in front of you. 

You stumbled off the bike, taking steps back. Bumblebee must have noticed your unease, because he started shifting, the gears of the car turning as he stood upright. That form didn’t bring you much more comfort, just added to your inner turmoil.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.” 

The clicking of his radio station always seemed to catch you a little off guard. Another piece of technology you’d probably be paranoid about.

“Why are you following me..” you were beyond scared, and he raised his hands in the air to show no ill intent.

“Optimus said. Keep an eye on her. We have to be safe. Humans can be just as deceptive.”

Optimus, another Autobot. Another alien. Your hands were firmly at your sides, and despite your best efforts to seem strong, you were trembling. You hated it, the way you felt now. Helpless, weak, scared. Bumblebee was still gazing at you inquisitively. He took a step forward, and the vibrations ran all the way to your feet, up your body. You didn’t move, felt like you weren’t even breathing. He just kept moving forward, and when his hand reached out, you closed your eyes tightly. 

The feel of metal on your cheek is what knocks you out of your shock. You were so sure he would attack or something. But as you stared back into the glowing blue eyes, you couldn’t see even a hint of malice. There was almost affection in his robotic gaze.

“You’re pretty.” you blinked, and he must have realized what came out the radio. He yanked back his hand so quickly, backing away so crazily that he fell unto his butt. Even when he was down, the radio kept switching.

“Abort, abort mission soldier!”

For a while you couldn’t do much as he tried to pull himself together. It was a bit comedic. It’s then it really hits you. If he wanted to cause harm, he would have done it by now. He could have at any time.

“He’s not gonna hurt me.” It is an unconscious thought, but you’re starting to realize it’s true.

You couldn’t even remember why you were scared. The static ramblings made you smile.

“He’s...kind of cute.”

Bumblebee noticed the smile that was now playing on your lips, and he lowered his hands, titling his head.

“Can we..be friends.” you didn’t expect him to say that, not at all. Especially after you’d been looking at him like he was some kind of monster, treating him like one too.

“You wanna be my friend?” he nodded excitedly.

“Yes sir.” An authoritative voice answered from his radio.

“Friends.”

He wasn’t a monster, far from it. He may not have been human, but he was still a being with feelings. You understood that now.

“I’d really like that Bumblebee.” The glow in his eyes got brighter, and he jumped to his feet, causing tremors to rock the ground. You stumbled, and he reached out to steady you. You grabbed unto his metal arm, and he scratched his head with the free hand.

“Sorry.” you shook your head, giggling softly.

“It’s okay.”

This would surely be an interesting friendship.

[palbabor-writes]

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

[topazy]

Silent Bloom

Parings: Finn Collins/reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: None

Chapter: 2.01

"Ok, tell me again."

You groaned into your hands. You had explained everything that had happened, from the mountain men chasing you to Ada letting you go countless times that morning. Blinking against the sun shining in your eyes, you let out a deep sigh. "I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’ve gone over it so many times the details are starting to become fuzzy."

Clarke gave you an uncertain look before leaning back in her chair. You yawned into your hand and fought against the urge to close your eyes. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

Bellamy cleared his throat, which helped ease the growing awkwardness. "Tell us again what the plan is."

"It's a labyrinth. We got to the dam through this tunnel. It's all connected to the mine system. That's our way in."

Bellamy looked skeptical. "Are you sure we can get past the reapers and the..." He paused as his eyes lingered on you before continuing, "mountain men? I swear to God if your mom doesn’t sanction the mission, I’m going by myself."

"You won't be by yourself," Clarke confirmed.

Your jaw opened slightly as you noticed Finn walking towards your table. Gulping, you did your best not to make eye contact with him. "Guess the inquisitions are over," Bellamy said, giving you a sympathetic look. "How's Finn doing anyway?"

You shrugged. "I haven’t spoken to him since...since I came back."

"Hey," Finn said softly.

You continued staring at the table in front of you while Finn made small talk with Bellamy, and Clarke. You were afraid to look at him. The Finn Collins who did this wasn’t the same boy you grew up with. He wasn’t your best friend, or lover. The person standing next to you was a stranger. A murderer.

"Next round on me," Bellamy said as he stood up to leave the table. He squeezed your shoulder as he walked behind you.

Finn sat down across from you. "Mount weather, what’s the plan?"

"Still working on it."

Glancing at the blonde beside you, it finally sank in how Finn’s actions had affected everyone. Clarke had lost one of the few friends she had, and you couldn’t even imagine what this was doing to Raven. You stood up from your chair and finally made eye contact with Finn. Staring into his brown eyes hurt. He looked so lost and confused, but it still didn’t change what happened. "Excuse me, I need to get some fresh air."

—

"You look lonely out here."

You frowned instantly upon hearing his voice. You weren’t in the mood. "What do you want, Murphy?"

Murphy placed his hands on his chest, pretending to be hurt, before sitting down on the ground next to you. "Not interested in our hero’s gathering either?"

"I came outside because I needed some air."

Murphy made a scoffing noise, "I thought you would have been the council's new shiny toy. I’d heard you’d escaped grounders and our good friends from the mountain."

"And I heard Bellamy almost beat you to death again for trying to hang him."

You noticed Murphy toying with his fingers. "Yeah yeah, the same old Murphy that everyone hates."

"I don’t hate you." You looked at him, confused, as he shook his head, and scoffed. Did Murphy think you were mocking him? Despite everything that he’s done, you didn’t hate him.

"What, do you think I’m lying?"

"You kicked me down a ladder."

"In all fairness, you had it coming." Murphy nudged your shoulder as you both laughed until you saw the others getting ready to leave. "Can I ask you something? Would you have done it?"

Murphy let out a sigh, before answering. Even without saying the actual words, he knew what you meant. "I tried to stop him...I’ve done similar things to survive."

"No, no you haven’t. We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, but nothing... eighteen people are dead. I always thought I’d do anything to protect my friends, but after this, I’m honestly not so sure."

"He didn’t do that because he was looking for a friend. Finn did it because he’s in love with you."

As you opened your mouth to reply, Octavia’s voice cut you off. "We are getting ready to leave."

"Try to stay out of trouble, Murphy," you said as you nodded and stood up to join her.

"Right back at ya, Daze."

You walked beside Octavia in silence until you approached the rest of the group. The first thing you noticed was Abby shaking her head. "No, absolutely not. I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t come with us?"

"Why?"

"Because..." her eyes moved to the side where Finn was standing.

"I’ll be a distraction."

The older woman nodded, "there are plenty of ways you can help in camp."

You rolled your eyes. Abby’s tone was patronising but you decided not to think much about it. You hugged Octavia. "Watch what you're doing out there, okay? I need you to come back in one piece."

She chuckled softly, "I always do."

You stepped back to let her pass and felt somebody squeezing your shoulder gently. Spinning round, you smiled, seeing Bellamy staring at you. He looked worried. "You’re not coming?"

"This is one party I’m not invited to."

"Voluntarily?" You didn’t expect to hear the harshness in Bellamy’s voice as he spoke.

"Abby has a point," you said quietly. Something seemed off. Bellamy was more intense than usual. Placing your hand on his, you sighed. "It’s probably for the best that I sit this one out."

You looked back to hear Clarke calling his name. "You need to go. Just…"

He chuckled, "I’ll keep them safe."

You smiled softly before letting his hand go. You watched the small group walk away while finding it hard not to worry.

—

"Hey."

You jumped when you heard somebody talking, dropping the pen and paper that were in your hand. "Jesus Finn, you scared me!"

"Sorry...I’ll leave you to it."

"No, I’m sorry." You sighed, "I just got a fright because I didn’t hear you come in. When did you guys come back?"

"About an hour ago, I was surprised I didn’t see you."

"I’ve been in here doing the food inventory. Is anybody hurt?"

"One of the guards died, but other than that, no," Finn said, leaning against the wall, his head bowed. "We almost got caught by acid fog but everyone managed to hide."

"Then what happened to the guard?" You asked.

"Lincoln killed him. He has been turned into a reaper. The mountain men turned him into one of them."

You stared at Finn's mouth agape while trying to process the information. If mountain men were able to turn Lincoln into a reaper, you dread to think what could be happening to Monty and Jasper. "God, I need to go find Octavia."

"Daisy, can you wait? We need to talk."

A wave of guilt washed over you. "I know we do, but Octavia-"

"O will need me," you said, frowning when Finn cut you off.

"She has Clarke and Bellamy with her."

You picked up the pen and paper you dropped previously in silence. You didn’t know how to talk to him anymore.

"You can’t stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"I’m a monster you're afraid of."

"I don’t think you’re a monster, you just made a really bad judgment call."

The haunted look on his face sent a chill down your spine. "I thought they had you, and everybody else. When I saw Clarke’s father's watch, something just snapped inside me. I can’t explain it."

You look down at the ground, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t imagine the guilt that must have been eating away at him.

"Do you think we can ever get it back? What did we have before?"

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "I..I don’t know. So many things have happened, and I hope we can be friends again, but it will take time."

"What I did in the village was wrong, but at the time I thought it was the right thing."

"It's not just about the village..." you couldn't stop crying as your voice broke."You chose her over me."

"Daze…"

"No, don’t keep cutting me off. Do you know how hard it was watching you with somebody else? Especially when you spent the night before with me? I was heartbroken Finn but I kept it together the best I could. You made your choice. You chose Raven over me and expect me to act like nothing happened."

"It wasn’t like that Daisy. Raven means so much to me, I didn’t want to hurt her."

His words stung the same way being physically hurt would. Finn had a big heart, and regardless of how much he cared, you’d always be second best, and you couldn’t settle for it anymore. Hearing footsteps getting closer, you did your best to compose your emotions.

"I need to hand this in, and check on Octavia." You sighed, looking at him, "You still mean a lot to me, Finn. I’ve never stopped caring about you. We just need to take it slow with rebuilding our friendship again."

"Baby steps?"

You chuckled, "baby steps are fine with me."

Season two

Notes:

So here we are at season two, and Daisy has finally started to get the closure that she needs to move on from her relationship with Finn. Thanks again to everyone who’s shared or liked silent bloom so far!!